The Rampage MC #3: Atlas and Joy

Epilogue 2 (Atlas): My Forever

Some years down the road...

It's rare that you can actually see your future, your forever, walking toward you. But on our wedding day, there I was, standing up by Beard with my groomsmen standing beside me, my eyes on Joy as she walked down the aisle to me on Kilian's arm. 

I felt my breath hitch in my throat. This beautiful, incredible woman was walking toward me to begin our future. She was walking toward me. That thought never failed to just about bring me to my knees. Does every man stand and watch his wife-to-be coming toward him and realize just how unworthy he was? Because that sure as fuck was going through my head. On the heels of that thought came a surge of determination to make myself deserving of this incredible woman who was about to tie herself to me for life.

All of her perfection was walking toward all of my imperfection.

Then, her eyes lifted to mine and there was that smile I loved, aimed right at me. She wasn't even looking at the brothers standing by their bikes, which made up the aisle, aimed away from the front so they could easily follow us on what we called the Got Hitched Run. 

My bike was parked the farthest away since we would be leading the procession on the forty mile round-trip ride. The girls had blinged the hell out of Joy's helmet and attached a veil to it, which they swore would never come off, and somehow, whatever they did to it, it never did. The veil might be tattered and torn by the end of the run, but it was still attached by some miracle.

I smiled back at Joy. My Joy. Forever my Joy after today.

My breath hitched again as I thought about how I'd almost ruined what was between us. This moment wouldn't be happening and I'd have been lost. I rubbed my hand over my face, hoping that would stop the moisture gathering in my eyes.

"Fucking hell," Beard hissed. "You fucking cry and I'll punch you in the kidney. No one would see, and I don't need your brother running back to his Prez and telling him we've turned into the pussy brigade here."

"Glass houses, Beard," I said out of the side of my mouth. "Glass houses and I'd hate to bring out the video to remind you."

"Fucker," he said, but he shut up.

By then, Joy was standing in front of me and her brother put her hand in mine.

"You go live your life easy now, Joy," he said to her, and then kissed her cheek and stepped away.

Beard married us, the words simple but packed with power.

Love. Honor. Cherish. For better or worse. In sickness and health. 'Til death parted us.

Sign me the hell up because this was Joy and she was my future. We were breaking ground on our house in a month, with Joy's dream kitchen being the heart of the home. We were currently in negotiations about her job at the MC. I wanted her to quit and pursue school full time and she was resisting. She was now offering me a compromise of her only cooking dinners, and I was thinking about my counteroffer. Dancing around issues like this with her involved a lot of sex.

She'd be draped over my chest after I'd worn us out and she'd laugh.

"I don't know what it is about debating with you, Kit, but good gravy, it gets my sauce simmering."

Her cooking analogies got more outrageous every time she made one up.

But good pot roast, you get my meat juicy.

But good pasta, you get my noodles boiled.

Then I'd roll her to her back and leer at her. "I need to taste that sauce, sweetheart."