Big Timber (Royal Bastards MC: Flagstaff Chapter #7)

Epilogue

Timber

“Sir?” The word sounds foreign to me as I address Talia’s father as he’s exiting the bathroom. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just hard to find a quiet place and I wanted to talk to you.”

The surprise on his face subtly shifts to a more thoughtful expression and he swings his thumb over his shoulder. “Come on, the front porch is probably our best bet.”

Heading out that way, stay standing even after he sits down.

“There are a couple of things I wanted to ask you,” I immediately start, trying to ignore the churning in my gut. Sliding my sweaty palms against my jeans before I continue. “I love your daughter and I want to marry her.”

He remains still, his eyes shifting over my shoulder, and I wonder if I should make my second request or give him a minute.

“You’ve already made her your Ol’ Lady,” he finally breaks the silence between us, his darker green eyes refocusing on me. “My understanding is that is considered married among your—well, among those in a motorcycle club. Why are you asking for my approval now?”

“This whole family thing,” I answer, waving my hand in the direction of the front door to indicate everyone inside. “It isn’t like anything I’ve ever experienced. And if I’m being honest, it takes some getting used to. But you all have included me in it from the moment you saw me in the kitchen that day, and that means a lot to me. More than I can put to words.”

“Talia’s never given us a reason to doubt her judgment,” he says with a shrug. “She may have said she acted impulsively that day, but her mom and I think she’d already knew you were the one for her.”

“Can I have your blessing to marry her?” I ask, more formally this time.

“Yes,” he replies with a smile. “But you said you had a couple of questions for me, so what’s the second one?”

“Yeah, I was also wondering if I could have your last name?”

I almost laugh at his expression and open mouth, but I’m dead serious about it, so I quietly wait for him to process my words, only continuing once he’s closed his jaw.

“My last name was just something I was born with. I don’t feel any connection to it or to anyone else with the name,” I explain my reasoning to him, not bothering to get into the fact that my sister had a different last name than me. “The Workman family, even with those who have taken their husbands’ last names, the name is like a bond between you. I would proudly carry it and never disrespect what it means. And, when we have them, I’d like our children to have it also.”

There’s no missing the tears in Bill’s eyes when he stands up, wrapping his arms tightly around me. I’m a little stiff at first, never having been hugged by a man before, but eventually I reciprocate and awkwardly pat him on the back.

“Welcome to the family, son,” he gasps out the words as he tries to keep his voice level.

“Dad? Tarak?” Talia steps out onto the porch with a puzzled expression on her face and I can see Tiny wringing her hands in the entryway behind her. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bill says, taking a deep breath and turning with an arm out.

Talia immediately steps forward, putting an arm around both of us. “What’s the huddle for?” she asks with a small smile on her face.

“I like him, sweetheart,” he tells her, tilting his head to lean it against hers.

“Well, he’s mine, so you can’t have him,” she sasses back, still looking perplexed about how she found us.

He throws his head back, laughing, and I can see the sparkle in Tiny’s eyes as she comes up behind him.

“I love your daughter,” I tell Tiny, and she smiles knowingly as she cuddles up to us opposite Talia.

“Well, any fool can see that,” she replies, and I can’t wipe the grin off my face at these two contrary women.

“Welcome to the family, son,” Bill says, unashamed of the tears in his eyes as he smiles at me.

Something in me shifted the day I met Talia, a weight that I must have carried my entire life, because I never noticed it was there until it started to crack and chip.

What takes water ions to do to rock, Talia and the Workman family accomplished within months. In fact, a few short months ago, I would have laughed my ass off at anyone who would have told me I’d be on a porch, in a huddle with the love of my life and her parents, close to tears.

Instead of the weight of anger and distrust that I’ve always carried, whatever it is that’s taking up residence in my chest feels a bit like what I’ve always seen shining from Talia’s eyes.

Love, hope, and humor.

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