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them hanging out and not contributing other than tantrums and bitchy fights. She’d mentioned it to Rider recently, who smirked and told her to do whatever she wanted.

Well, fine. She would.

Rider was looking into more properties. If these women wanted to keep hanging out, then they could interview for job positions. She’d put a notice on the bulletin board as soon as she knew what jobs would be available.

“Queen kicking ass again.” An entertained voice said, and Zara turned around to look at Grinder. She flushed because it still made her shy to know the boys thought of her that way.

Zara chuckled. “Would you be so pleased about me kicking them out if you were still footloose and fancy-free?”

Grinder grinned, rubbed his thick beard, clipped tight around his lips. “Maybe not, but you gotta do what you gotta do, Z-girl. The groupies' respect when the alpha dog speaks.”

She didn’t know about that, but she wasn’t making friends with these women if they couldn’t abide by the rules. This wasn’t high school fighting over a good-looking boy.

It came as a shock to her sometimes how much she loved this MC life. She loved going to the summer rallies on the back of Rider’s bike. Loved meeting all the different Souls chapters and seeing how they respected Rider, turning to him for advice.

Office work was satisfying, especially this past few months, while Rider got her input on the new business ideas. The day to day running of the club took a lot of hands. Rider at the helm. And she enjoyed being at his side.

Her confidence had grown.

She probably wasn’t the best MC queen the club had ever seen, but there was no other woman who would give everything to her club family either. Other clubs might not approve of a woman influencing how a motorcycle clubhouse is run. She knew some clubs across the States saw women as only something to stick their dick into. Never thinking they’d have a brain and something to contribute to a conglomerate.

Zara didn’t interfere on any of the harsher sides to how Rider operated, but she was his sounding board and confidant when he needed it. She wouldn’t deny she’d been able to influence great changes within the clubhouse.

She used to wonder when she was an immature girl who knew nothing of men and relationships, why a woman would marry a biker if she had no rights.

The way her old friend, the one who’d brought her to the Souls club for the first time, would talk about bikers, she made them sound like Gods with very backward ideas of what women were for. Was she pleased she’d had a positive impact on the Souls? Yeah, she was. Zara did not doubt her friends influenced their men and the choices they made too.

Now, if only she could get her surprise to go off without a hitch.

It was one of the rare occasions she was alone without her guard. If Pretty-Boy thought she wasn’t staying home, he’d have a fit, and Rider would have a fit alongside him. She wasn’t going far and wouldn’t be alone for long.

Sure enough, Hawk and Gia were already at the destination when she pulled up in her yellow hatchback. Even now, the boys ragged on her for the ‘banana skin’ car. She was due for an upgrade, but she had sentimental attachments to this vehicle.

Shivering against the snowy chill, she pulled the coat around herself as she stepped out, lifting the dress a little so it wouldn’t trail in the mounds of slush along the curb.

“Hey, guys. Thanks for coming.”

“Rider’s gonna lose his mind knowing you’re out here without Pretty,” Hawk stated in his monosyllabic tone, looking imposing in his club clothes of jeans, cut, and a leather jacket. His hand reached out to curl around Gia’s waist when she backhanded him gently in the stomach and told him, “hush you, no he won’t, it’s romantic.”

Her soon-to-be sister-in-law beamed at Zara, and the two women hugged. “I’m so excited. Thanks for including us.”

Zara couldn’t think of two better people to have here with her.

She was nervous but enthusiastic too. And that enthusiasm tripled when she heard the familiar roar of engine pipes coming around the corner. They stood by the curb, watching Rider’s big Harley growing closer.

Though he gave his VP and sister a curious glance when he pulled in and switched off the engine, his gaze was all for Zara. He lifted off the helmet, hung it from the handlebars, and swung his leg over the bike, climbing down.

“I got your weird message to meet you here. What’s going on, Icy?”

Navy eyes scanned her from top to toe and back to her face. She reached out and took his hand, the cold palm wrapped around hers, and she went toe-to-toe with her biker-man.

It was crazy; she was feeling nervous.

Her heart was rattling like chains in her chest.

This was Rider. The least complicated man she knew. He went above and beyond to make her happy, to make their kids happy, and to keep their spark alive. She felt it now, sizzling along her arms and making her chest bloom with heated love. Their lives could have been so different, so empty without each other.

But here they were on the cusp of their wedding day.

A day neither of them thought would come.

Being happy as they were, she’d been apprehensively to rock the boat, assuming getting married would somehow jinx what they had. But Rider, loyal and lovely Rider, persevered until she’d been ready. It was a kick in the pants how she’d waited all this time to marry him.

Now she couldn’t wait.

“We’re getting married.” She exclaimed, beaming up at him. She watched his dark eyebrows fold in, kicking a glance to the other two for a second before coming

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