After I had parked my brand new silver Mercedes in our driveway, I pulled my phone out again and found a volley of text messages in my inbox. Eight of them were from my mom and a few of them from my dad. They had been texting me non-stop for the past week since my last explosive phone call with them.

That phone call had been an olive branch from me. Since they hadn’t attended the wedding and refused to meet Tank; I had made up my mind to keep my distance from them. However, the older our baby doll grew, the more I wondered if it was right on my part to keep her separated from her grandparents.

So, on a quiet Sunday morning, when Tank and Jolie had both been asleep, I’d called my parent’s home. That conversation, which I had tried starting off by being apologetic but firm, had quickly spiraled out of control. They blamed me for everything; for ruining my life and theirs, for getting pregnant out of wedlock, for marrying a man who they didn’t only disapprove of, but were also afraid. I had ended the call and threw my phone against the wall from rage.

I hadn’t told Tank anything because he would have been upset to see me upset and probably blamed himself. Instead, he had gone out and bought me a new phone when I told him I dropped my cellphone accidentally.

It was nearly ten at night, I was still in my scrubs from the hospital and exhausted from a tiring shift. I climbed up the short flight of steps that led into our porch, and I stared up at the house.

It was a beautiful red brick house, in a quiet suburban neighborhood and there was nothing that Tank didn’t provide for. He had insisted on me having a career, taking as much time away from the MC work as he could to care for Jolie. Brooklyn, Kylie, and Rebecca had all stepped in to help with raising Jolie, and I stopped for a few moments, to wonder how my life would have turned out if I hadn’t met Tank. If it could have been any better. Now, despite all of the hateful messages in my phone’s inbox in my purse; I couldn’t think of a single way in which my life might have been better. What more could I have asked for?

My parents disapproved of Tank’s lifestyle, but they didn’t know him. They didn’t know him for the man he was. He was the only man in the world who would have taken a bullet for Jolie and me, and I loved him. I couldn’t get enough of him.

Biting down on my lip, at the thought of seeing Tank and Jolie again, I opened the door of the house and stepped in.

The house was warm, and a curious smell of home cooked food wafted in from the kitchen as I walked towards it.

“Tank?” I called out for him. When I entered the kitchen, I was amazed by the sight that greeted me, and a hand rose up to my heart.

Tank had not only prepared a dinner of roasted vegetables and lasagna, but he was now laying the table out for us. Two candles were lit between the plates, and he was pouring a glass of wine for me as I walked towards him. A bottle of beer was lying unopened on his side.

He smiled at me in greeting, and my gaze fell on Jolie sleeping soundly in her cot.

“She ate, played, tried to have a conversation with me and then fell asleep,” Tank whispered in my ear when I came to him.

My heart was flooding with joy and happiness. I couldn’t believe that I had allowed myself to think, even for a second, about the things that my parents had said to me. They had no idea how beautiful my life was, how much I would have missed if I had married stupid Damien Robinson instead. My parents would never understand the love I had with Tank and how powerful and real it truly was.

He drew me into his arms, and I kissed him. My lips slid over his, his tongue parted my mouth and thrust in. His hand traveled over my back and down to my ass, and he pressed himself against me, rubbing his growing cock against my pussy.

“Every time I see you in these scrubs, it reminds me of the time I kissed you in that supply closet,” Tank said when he pulled away from me for breath. I was already breathing hard, my eyelids with heavy with desire for the man I had married. The handsome man, with his chiseled features and muscular body. His dark hair tied in a short ponytail behind his neck. His large warm hands settled on my ass, and he squeezed and drew in a sharp breath.

“You are even sexier now, Noelle,” he whispered in my ear, and I smiled. It delighted me to know that Tank was always so conscious and aware of being around Jolie. Like he was afraid that she would understand and disapprove her daddy having his hands all over her mommy.

“And I want to thank you,” I said, looking into Tank’s eyes, as his eyebrows furrowed from surprise.

“You mean for getting Jolie to sleep? You know she doesn’t throw a fuss. It was easy,” he said, rocking me as we held each other.

“Not just for that, but for everything,” I said and laid my head on his chest so that I could hear his heart beating in his chest. He was stroking my hair now.

“I am so glad that I wasn’t stupid enough to walk away from all this. I am so happy that I wasn’t scared of the unknown and I trusted in you, and my love for you,” I continued, and Tank tipped my face up so he could look into my eyes.

“I’m not sure what’s brought this on, but princess, you should never thank me for what I do. Just like you should never apologize. I fucking love you, Noelle,” he said, and we were kissing again. This time, Tank didn’t care that Jolie was in the same room.