Money Shot: Selected Sinners MC Romance (22 page)

Everyone was standing around the table talking.

“Glad you could make it,” Axton said.

“We were just taking a tour,” Vince said.

I grinned at Avery and immediately felt guilty, so I shifted my eyes to the table.

“Been talking to Otis?” Axton asked.

I glanced up. Axton’s eyes were fixed on Vince’s.

“Who’s Otis?” I asked.

Axton shifted his eyes toward me. “He’s one of the fellas. His Ol’ Lady’s got a flower garden and gazebo just like what’s out there. They sure like it.”

I nodded my head and grinned. Axton shifted his eyes back to Vince and smiled. “They use it a lot. I was just wondering if ol’ Vince here had been talking to Otis about it. Maybe getting a few pointers.”

Axton chuckled and turned to face me.

“So how you doing, Kid?” he asked.

“Good,” I said.

“I bet you are,” he said with a nod. “I bet you are.”

VINCE

If I ever felt like something was important enough to be
important
, it was pretty damned important.

“I told you once, I don’t think I should just have to keep repeating myself,” I said.

“Well, that is a sketch made on a note pad. A sketch. It’s not a precision drawing, and…”

I was done listening to this asshole, and was about ready to either beat the living shit out of him or go elsewhere.

“What you think because I’m a fucking biker I’m some dumb fuck?” I asked.

He shook his head. “That’s not an accurate statement.”

I pointed toward the drawing and tossed my hands in the air. “I didn’t draw that fucker with a crayon; I drew it with an architect’s pencil. That, that right fucking there,
that’s
what I want.”

“Very well. Identical to what is depicted?” he asked.

I nodded my head. “Exactly.”

He glanced at the drawing, shook his head from side to side, and sighed heavily. “But, the dimensions, it’s not drawn to scale, and it’s…”

“Who says it’s not drawn to scale?” I asked.

“Well, I assume based disproportionate nature, and the sheer size of the…”

“Just. Like. The. Fucking. Drawing,” I said flatly.

He picked up the paper, nodded his head, and shifted his eyes toward the parking lot where I had parked my bike.

“And, the manner in which you’ll resolve payment?” he asked.

I reached inside my cut, pulled out a banded stack of hundred dollar bills, and flopped it onto the edge of the counter.

“Cash. That ought to get you started,” I said.

He picked up the bills, flipped through them, and grinned. “It certainly will.”

“Your name?” he asked as he picked up a clipboard.

I pointed to the drawing, shifted my finger toward the money he held, and nodded my head.

“Name’s Vince, that’s it. No phone number, no address. I’ll be back in a week,” I said.

“The pleasure’s mine, Mr. Vince,” he said.

“Exactly like the drawing,” I said.

He glanced down at the drawing, nodded his head once, and grinned. “It will be.”

And as far as I was concerned, that was all that mattered.

SIENNA

There should come a time in every girl’s life when she feels she can safely exhale. At least that’s what I had always believed. I doubted each and every girl on the earth reached that point, and the thought saddened me that some didn’t, but I did.

And I was grateful when the day finally came.

“I had no idea there were carriage rides in Old Town,” I said.

The man driving the carriage was actually wearing a top hat. The carriage was white, and rather ornate, with carvings along the sides and on the armrests. The seats were red velvet, and quite comfortable for a wooden carriage. As the mad whipped the reigns up and down, the Clydesdale horses picked up the pace slightly.

We’d been in the carriage for half an hour, taking a tour of Old Town in downtown Wichita. Vince had spent the entire time checking his watch, so I realized he must have had other plans, but I had no idea what they were.

The evening was perfect, and for Kansas in the fall, rather enjoyable. It was just under sixty degrees, the dark sky overhead was filled with stars, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. As we sipped out hot apple cider, the carriage came around the corner.

“The Keen Kutter building,” the man said as he motioned toward the brick building on our right side.

Vince checked his watch.

“Built in 1906 by Wurster Construction, the building was used by Keen Kutter until the early 1920’s when Winchester Arms merged with Keen Kutter to utilize…”

Vince checked his watch again.

The carriage slowed down slightly, and the sound of the horse’s hooves slapping against the brick street became almost musical. I took a sip of cider and gazed off to the left at the renovated one hundred year old buildings that had been developed into housing, eateries, and bars.

Vince checked his watch.

I shook my head and turned to the side and watched as two people walked by hand in hand, probably on their way to the wine bar half way down the block. It was almost midnight and the bars were all that was really left open. I shifted my eyes toward the front of the carriage, only to see that Vince had moved to the seat in front of me.

The carriage seated six people, and Vince had rented the entire carriage to give us privacy. Although he had been seated at my side all night, he obviously got bored and moved.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his coat and leaned forward.

“Sienna, I can say this without hesitation,” he said. “You are the only woman I have ever loved. I know that now, I know it.”

“Awwe, thank you,” I said as I leaned forward and kissed him.

“I want this to last forever,” he said.

“The ride?” I asked with a grin.

He shook his head. “This. You and me.”

“Me too,” I said.

“So,” he said as he raised himself from the seat.

He removed his right hand from his jacket, lowered himself onto one knee, and raised his hand in front of me. I glanced at his hand.

Oh God…

Vince.

“Sienna, I would be the proudest man on earth if you would agree to marry me,” he said.

I bit into my lip and nodded my head, incapable of speaking. I mouthed the words “I will” as tears began to well in my eyes.

I reached for the ring and nodded my head again. I had read about this moment in thousands of books, but nothing could have prepared me for what was happening. He shook his head, reached for my hand, and slipped the ring onto my finger.

I glanced down at the ring. It was a ridiculously huge round diamond, and the sides of the ring were covered in smaller diamonds, fading into small slivers at the bottom.

It was breathtaking.

“I love you,” I said as I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks.

Vince turned toward the man driving and nodded his head. The man raised his hand to his mouth, pulled the reigns downward, and stopped the carriage. As the carriage came to a halt, the man whistled a shrill whistle loud enough for the entire city to hear.

“And off to the left, you can see the not so historic Warren Theatre parking garage,” he said as he pointed toward the structure on the left.

Vince turned to the left and stared, pulling me in his arms as he did so. Under the streetlights and illuminated enough for me to see I wasn’t the only one crying, he looked peaceful and content.

I was in heaven.

A huge boom, followed by another, and another caused me to jump in my seat. The top of the parking garage illuminated underneath the fireworks display over our heads. It was just like the Fourth of July, the sky glowing with pinks, reds, blues, and yellows, one burst after the other.

I smiled as I stared out at the display, only to see the top of someone’s head clearing the top of the roof and peering down below.

The unmistakable “Whoop” of Biscuit making a cat-call made me giggle, and I waved at him from the carriage.

“Congrats, Motherfuckers!” I heard Jackson scream.

“All of this,” I said as I waved toward the fireworks. “You’re amazing.”

“No, you’re amazing,” he said.

“I’m just surprised…” I paused and shook my head.

The next day was November 9
th
, the anniversary of our first kiss. I found it odd he didn’t wait until the next day to propose.

“What?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and admired my ring. “Nothing.”

“Surprised I didn’t wait ‘till the 9
th
?” he asked.

I nodded my head. He pointed to his watch. “It’s the 9
th
. It’s been the 9
th
for some time now.”

I realized it was past midnight, and the 9
th
of November.

A true romantic, the love of my life had just proposed to me on the anniversary of our first kiss. Directly above us the fireworks continued to explode, illuminating the sky entirely. I pointed up at the sky, down at my ring, and shook my head.

“What?” he asked.

“This,” I said.

“What about it?” he asked.

“
This
is the money shot,” I said.

He grinned and pulled me in for a kiss. “It sure is.”

And it was. The perfect night. The perfect man. The perfect romantic moment. If our lives were ever written into a book, it would be the perfect…

Money shot.

EPILOGUE

AXTON BISHOP

The fellas in my club weren’t simply friends, brothers, or people who I expected to have my back when times were tough. Each and every one of them was a part of a machine. In the absence of one man, the machine would be incomplete. In the absence of some men, the machine would break down.

It took time, but Vince had become a critical component in the machine. Without him there was no doubt in my mind, the machine would cease to exist.

I held my head high and walked as straight as possible. It was something I had never imagined I would have to do, but I agreed to do so as a matter of respect. Well, that and I couldn’t imagine anyone else doing it with such devotion.

The slight tug on my right arm reminded me of my commitment. I blinked my eyes, lowered my chin, and waited.

He shifted his eyes upward and gazed at me blankly. “Who gives this woman to be married to this man on this beautiful day?”

“I do. Axton Bishop,” I responded with a proud nod.

“And, Mr. Bishop, do I have your blessing to move forward with this ceremony of marriage?” he asked.

I lowered my chin and smiled. “Yes, Sir. You do.”

Sienna pinched my arm.

You little shit.

The pastor motioned for her to come forward. I stepped aside, turned and walked to the open seat beside Avery and sat down.

It seemed strange for me to be dressed in a tuxedo for a biker wedding, but I should have known Vince wouldn’t do anything traditional to the one percenter. He was a romantic at heart, and I admired him for it. 

The pastor shifted his eyes throughout the crowd. The entire yard was decorated and filled with chairs, a stage, band, and rented dance floor. Vince’s mother’s home was perfect for the marriage, and she sure seemed excited to plan the event entirely, and no expense was spared.

“
Marriage is a solemn institution to be held in honor by all, it is the cornerstone of the family and of the community. It requires of those who undertake it a complete and unreserved giving of one's self. It is not to be entered into lightly, as marriage is a sincere and mutual commitment to love one another,” he said.

He turned and exchanged glances at Vince and Sienna. “This commitment symbolizes the intimate sharing of two lives and still enhances the individuality of each of you.”

“Will rings be exchanged as a symbol of this union in marriage?”

Vince nodded his head and motioned toward the ring bearer. Biscuit grinned, raised the silk pillow, and waited as Vince removed the rings and handed them to the pastor.

“
A ring is a circle with no beginning and no end. Love without end is what we hope to achieve in marriage.
As this ring is placed upon your fingers remember that it is your love for one another that has brought you here, and it is that love that will guide you down the pathways of your lives.”

The pastor turned toward Vince and nodded his head.

Vince gazed into Sienna’s eyes and held the ring in his hand. “I promise to you to have all the patience required to comfort you through the life we share and as we grow and learn to love one another. I promise to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and understanding of all you may need, desire, or require of me. Above all, I promise to love you today and every day following no less than the previous, and to never anger beyond what words cannot repair.”

The pastor nodded his head.

Vince slipped the ring on Sienna’s finger.

The pastor turned to face Sienna.

She grinned, reached for the ring, and held it between her fingers. “I promise to be understanding of your needs, accepting of your shortcomings, and open to your requests of me. I promise to be loving of you now, tomorrow, and for every day we share, and to place my love for you above all other needs. Above all, I promise when you do anger, to be patient, and allow time to pass and wounds to heal, for man is imperfect, and the world knows this to be fact.”

The pastor nodded his head.

Sienna placed the ring on Vince’s finger.

“Repeat after me,” he said. “With this ring I make this vow to you before God, before witness, and before my brothers.”

They each repeated the vow.

“Stephen Vincent Ames,
do you take this woman to be your wedded wife? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health, remaining faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”

“Yes, Sir. I do,” Vince said.

“Anita Ghee Boyco, do you take this man to be your wedded husband? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health, remaining faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

“I certainly do,” she said.

The pastor glanced at each of them and bowed his head slightly. “Then by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

They kissed a kiss I damned sure wouldn’t have kissed at my wedding. After a few
get a room
remarks were shouted by various Sinners, they separated and turned to face the crowd.

I couldn’t have been more proud of one of my boys and his new wife. I turned toward Avery, smiled, and kissed her.

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you,” she responded.

She looked remarkable in her dress. She made me proud in what she had done with Jackson, work, life, and finally making amends with her parents. One day I would make her my wife, I was sure of it. When the day came, I would stand proud before my brothers and take the vow with honor and respect.

As the evening turned into night, and the alcohol became part of the occasion, the DJ tapped his finger on the microphone and got everyone’s attention.

“I’d like to make an announcement,” he said. “It’s time for the father-daughter dance. The song chosen was by the daughter, and I want to make sure everyone in attendance is ready. Axton?” he motioned toward me with his free hand.

Oh shit, that’s me.

It was the least I could do for a member of my family whose father was deceased. This dance was a matter of respect.

I turned to the side and reached for Sienna’s hand, fully expecting a slow dance. She raised her hand in the air away from me, shook her head, and kicked her shoes to the side.

I wrinkled my brow and stared.

She turned her head and shouted over her shoulder at the DJ. “Hit it.”

The music began, and the floor began to shake. It wasn’t what I expected, but I gave my word. I grabbed the lapel of my jacket, pulled it off, and tossed it to Anita. I couldn’t wear a jacket and dance to the song she’d chosen, there was no way.

And as “
Christmas in Hollis
,” by Run DMC played, I came to realize although we were all Selected Sinners, we were all different.

But for that moment, Sienna and I were exactly the same.

And I danced like it was the last time I would ever have a chance.