I was alone with Mouse, and I wrapped my arms tightly around him and dropped my head into his chest.
“You okay?” he asked, hugging me back.
“I am just so... overwhelmed. I love you. Thank you for taking this risk with me.”
I’d come to find out that Mouse had taken ten-thousand dollars out of his life savings to make this dream happen for me, so the risk for him was just as big. Maybe bigger.
“I will do anything with, and for, you, Kennedy.”
“I know,” I breathed out. “I will never take that for granted.”
He grinned, leaning down to kiss me. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Merry Christmas indeed.”
I kissed him again and we spent the rest of the evening prepping to do it all again the next morning.
This man, this biker, had healed me on a level I had not expected, and I was the luckiest girl on earth.
Unedited Excerpt ©2020 Piper Davenport
CHAPTER ONE
Posey
My doorbell rang and I opened the door to find a large box on the porch. I frowned. I recognized the logo because the ads for the recipe and ingredient company were constantly popping up on my social media accounts.
The problem was, I hadn’t ordered it.
“Oh my god,” I breathed out.
But I knew who had, so I locked my door, carried the box into the kitchen and called my mother.
“Did you get it?” she asked.
“No, ‘hello my beautiful girl, how are you’?” I admonished.
“Hello, my beautiful girl, how are you? Did you get it?”
I laughed. “Yes, Mama, I got it, but I don’t know why you’re trying... again. I can’t cook. I celebrate the fact I can’t cook, and I don’t want anyone to change me.”
“But you have to cook for your husband.”
“Oh, my lord, Mama, it’s not nineteen-fifty! I don’t want a husband.”
“Yes, you do. You just can’t cook so you don’t think you can find one.”
My mother had absolutely no filter.
“This is not true, and you know it.” I ran a knife down the seam of the tape keeping the box closed. “If I find a husband because some man drops in my lap and says he can’t live without me, then he will be able to cook.”
She scoffed. “I have failed you as a mother.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m still southern to the core, Mama.”
“We’ll argue about that later.”
I grinned, pulling the items out of the box. “Or we won’t.”
“Please make your dinner, honey. Don’t order pizza.”
“I’ll try, Mom. I’ll send you photos of how it all turns out.”
“There’s the spirit. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” I said, and hung up.
Once I read through the instructions, I felt like it wasn’t going to be that hard and set out to make my own dinner.
* * *
Shadow
“Probee!” my captain bellowed.
I dragged my hands through my hair as I swept it into a tight bun on top of my head, and rushed into the firehouse kitchen. I was a probationary firefighter for the Savannah Fire Department, and I was taking my lumps. Much like when I was as a prospect for the Dogs of Fire Motorcycle Club. I don’t know why I was taking this double barrel of abuse to the face, but I’d found my dreams colliding and I decided I’d take whatever they dished out.
Thankfully, I was now a fully patched member of the club and didn’t have long before I’d earn my stripes as a new firefighter.
“Yes, sir?” I asked, as I walked into the room, and stalled.
I glanced around and found my crew sitting at the large dining table.
“Goddammit, probee, it’s your night to cook, we’re all sitting here starving to death.”
“I’m sorry, Cap, I thought it was Rondle’s night.” I rubbed the back of my neck as my stomach churned. The cardinal sin of any firehouse was to miss a chow shift, and I was exhausted, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that I forgot. I was working my twenty-four hour shifts, forty-eight off, but I was coming up on the max I was able to work in a month, which meant I had a week off starting the day after tomorrow. “I must have got my days mixed up. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re goddamn right it’s not going to happen again. ’Cause this is your last screw up as a probee...”
Shit, I couldn’t lose this job.
“...and your first as what I’m sure will be many as a member of SFD.”
The room erupted into cheers as everyone gathered around me, slapping me on my back, then the rescue team walked in, our head EMT Marney, holding a cake complete with sparklers in it, and I grinned. I fuckin’ loved cake.
Rondle handed me a can of whipped cream. “Time to put out your first official fire.”
I laughed and used the can like a fire extinguisher, smothering the fireworks.
“Since tonight is a celebration night, we’ve ordered from Boon’s,” Sarge said, and I grinned.
“I fuckin’ love Boon’s.”
“Yeah, we know,” Rondle said with a laugh, punching my shoulder.
Boon’s was a local, hole in the wall, barbeque joint and it was a favorite among pretty much anyone who loved food.
“Have a seat,” my captain ordered and a plate of ribs was set in front of me.
I rubbed my hands together, lifted a rib to my mouth and took a bite... just as the alarm sounded.
“Engine Twelve, residential fire, 5-1-5 Montgomery Street,” our dispatcher said over the intercom.
Shit. The Bowery could mean multiple apartments could be at risk. We all pushed back from the table and made a run for our boots. We suited up and then it was go-time. I climbed into the truck after Rondle and tried to stamp down the excitement as we hauled ass to the site of the fire.
* * *
Posey
I stood outside my apartment building and covered my face with my hands.
“It’s okay, darlin’,” my elderly neighbor, Sharon, crooned, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.
The flashing red lights of the fire truck lit up
