Page 129 of Ridin’ Dirty

His expression turned to a silent glower before he turned on his heel. “I’ll be in the truck,” he mumbled.

I smiled at his retreating figure, laughing softly when he grumbled at Reaper to follow. She got up from where she laid at my feet, obediently trailing after him. I couldn’t blame her. There wasn’t much he could demand I wouldn’t do, either.

Fuck, but I loved him.

When I was finished applying my bright red lipstick, I slipped the tube into my pocket, ran my fingers through my hair, winked at my reflection, and went to don my boots.

Because I wasn’t totally insane, I slipped into my jean jacket before I grabbed my purse and hurried for the truck. It was nice and toasty warm when I climbed into the cab.

Yeah—my man loved me, too.

We pulled onto the compound a few minutes after eight, and I was practically bouncing in my seat from excitement. When Riley parked and killed the engine, he reached over and took hold of my thigh before I could jump out. His hand was rough and warm, his touch possessive and gentle, just the way I liked.

“Wait up a minute,” he said softly.

“Baby, I’ve been waiting all day. I can’t do it a second longer.”

He gave my thigh a squeeze, speaking through a smile when he replied, “No turnin’ back after this.”

Rather than reach for the door, I leaned toward my husband until my arm was brushing against his.

“You say that like you haven’t got an entire back piece that marks you as mine.”

It was true. A few weeks ago, when the dust of chaos began to settle, we spent a week in Gillette so he could get it done. I went with him because he asked me to and because it gave me the excuse to hang with Charity and Bodhi for a while. I didn’t know until after his first session—after we were alone in our hotel room—that the tattoo was for me, the two black angel wings spanning the length of his torso a symbol of his devotion.

He told me, then, why he called me angel—because he believed me to be his.

Not that I needed another reason to love him, but after he told me that? This night couldn’t come soon enough.

“Also,” I grinned, wiggling my left fingers in front of his face. “You already can’t get rid of me.”

“That ring’s nothin’ special, angel.”

I lowered my hand, pouting a little as I spun the white gold band around my finger.

“Might not sparkle, but that doesn’t make it any less special to me.”

I meant what I said. My wedding band was a reminder of how we started.

It had been a wild ride.

My absolute favorite kind.

“Sweet you think so, but figured it was about time you had yourself a ring better suited for an ol’ lady.”

As he said the words, he took my hand and slid a new, very sparkly diamond ring onto my finger. It was huge. So huge, I didn’t even need the overhead cab lights to see the solitaire, round cut stone glint. For a second, I sat motionless, staring down at the thing.

“Baby,” I whispered. “It’s perfect.”

“Glad to hear it, angel.”

Hearing him call me that still made my heart flutter.

“Come on. Let’s get you inside before you start to freeze.”

“Wait,” I insisted, reaching for his face.

He didn’t fight me as I pulled him toward me. As soon as my lips were pressed against his, he took hold of the back of my neck, held me where he wanted, and devoured me. We kissed until we were breathless; until my lipstick was hardly more than a faded smear across both our faces; until my thong was soaked and my heart as full as it had ever been.