Kadence reconnecting on her terms meant she didn’t want to have anything to do with the Deranged Hounds. So, we balance between meeting them for dinner every once in a while, or heading to an amusement park with the kids, or simply meet up to have a chat and a drink at a local diner.
We didn’t bring Walker this time because our son wanted to spend time with my sister’s kids. Mayven and Ledger have two daughters, Heather who is around Walker’s age, and Rose who is almost three. Suggesting my sister and Ledger build a cabin next to ours has turned out to be one of my most brilliant ideas.
Not only do we enjoy their company from time to time but having our kids grow up close together, and always having a babysitter near is damn well perfect. Of course, a lot of my brothers also have kids, and the clubhouse is a good place any time of day, it’s just perfect to live together on the edge of the property.
But for now, Kadence and I have the night all to ourselves. Maybe that’s also why Kadence enjoyed herself today, but both Rowen and her got along great this afternoon. Her brother never forgave himself for the shit he’s done–and let’s face it, it was fucking disgusting. But he’s also shown remorse for putting the club first.
He kept saying it was a desperate grasp to hold onto Kadence, made in a moment of grief of losing both their mother and father. He needed his only living relative close, especially at a time the club was falling apart. And he honestly believed Cannon had feelings for Kadence.
Stalker level feelings for fucking sure, the guy was twisted as fuck. And Kadence knows the weight Rowen had on his shoulders, and like I said…she accepts some form of family connection between them now. Though the life we built together is where true family has forged bonds strong enough to face anything.
The same thing can be said about the strong connection between me and my woman. Riding together, either horseback, or like now on my bike. Working at the ranch where she helps out during the time she isn’t busy with my sister’s company, taking care of the kids, our house, or enjoying the late evenings where we watch our horses silently graze in the meadow as the moonlight shines down on all of us.
Yeah, life is pretty damn good. And when we’re finally locked inside our hotel room tonight…it just might get a little better since I have the whole night planned. Okay, I have just one thing planned, and that’s the gift I have in my pocket.
It’s not a wedding ring since we have been already married for five years now. But tonight happens to be our anniversary. I had a massive silver cuff bracelet handmade by a friend of my sister who she met through her company. My sister was right, the jewelry designer is brilliant and crafted the heads of our two horses on the cuff bracelet from a few photographs I gave her.
The resemblance is astonishing and I would have wanted it for myself as well, but it’s made especially for Kadence. Though, I might have mentioned to the designer I wanted to have one with a thicker cuff made for me to match the one for my wife, but she said she was fully booked for the next couple of months. It doesn’t matter. I have the perfect gift for my woman, and I know for sure she’s going to love it.
“Did you want to run a bath first or have a beer at the bar downstairs?” She removes the hair tie and her thick, gorgeous dark red hair falls free in waves down her back. After all these years it still only takes one look at my woman to get me hard.
“I’d like to give you this first.” I hold out the big black velvet square box and Kadence gasps as I tell her, “Happy anniversary, doll.”
She covers her mouth with her hand and takes a step back. “Oh no.”
Okay, that’s not the reaction I was going for here.
Her hand goes in my direction, palm up as if she wants to stop me. “Hang on,” she says and rushes to her backpack.
She pulls out the same fucking box. “Happy anniversary,” she croaks and winces.
We swap boxes and open them simultaneously. I have no fucking words for what my eyes are taking in. It’s from the same designer for sure. But the cuff I’m holding is massive and made for a man my size.
Where I had one made for my woman’s wrist with the heads of our horses, I’m staring at our horses running through a meadow while the moon is shining upon them and it’s fucking magnificent.
Seconds tick by where we only stare at the same–and yet different–gift we gave one another. I know my sister had something to do with this and yet it’s our personal touch what makes it so damn perfect.
I hand her my cuff while I take hers and the arm I want to put it on. She watches my moves and returns the favor to put the cuff on my wrist. I wrap my fingers around her nape to pull her close and lean in to kiss her.
I take my time to let our tongues perform a sensual slow dance. But I need more when I feel her nipples poking through the material of her blouse and bra. Or I might be imagining them because I know every inch of her lovely body.
Her blouse is damn frustrating with the tiny buttons. My thick fingers and my patience has blown to shit, causing me to grip the fabric and rip it apart. Buttons fly through the air as
