The sun is rising with no clouds in sight. It’s gonna be another perfect summer day. Dawn and Tara are forever tied together in my mind. Probably because she gets up to watch it so often, like she’s doing right now, sitting at the very edge of the cliffs and staring off at the horizon. Her long honey-colored hair is falling in thick waves over her back, moving slightly in the breeze.

I can’t believe it, but Tara is still the only woman I want. That doesn’t mean I don’t notice others, especially the ones that frolic around topless on all those European beaches we visited. But Tara is still the only one I want to come home to, go home with, kiss, make love to, and fuck. That last is important. Tara still has moments when she can’t quite surrender to me, but they’re fewer and further between now. So much so, they surprise both of us when they happen.

A year ago, if someone said I would be settled down, I’d have laughed and laughed, and probably call them an idiot or worse. But I can’t deny it now. And it’s not funny. It’s just perfect. It’s ridiculously perfect. I’ve never been this happy. I never even wanted to be. And I certainly didn’t know what I was missing.

We’ve travelled all over Europe. London, Paris, Rome, Venice, Greece, Romania, even Monte Negro and Croatia. But it’s Italy we keep returning to. We’re in Sicily now. And it’s time.

Tara turns and smiles as she notices me watching her from the doorway of our bus-home. No picket fence, but it’s got everything else we need.

I smile back and walk over to her. I’m so nervous my legs are stiff. But I don’t think I need to be. And I’d have to be unable to move and think to not want Tara beside me. Hell, I’d have to be dead.

The paperwork took forever to assemble, and I think she was getting a little suspicious of all my absences while we were in Rome. But she didn’t say anything. That’s not Tara’s way. She almost never complains, and doesn’t ask for very much at all. She’s grateful for everything, and I still want to give her anything she wants. Sometimes, I’d rather she did just ask, because then I’d know for sure what she needs. But guessing isn’t that hard either.

She leans against my leg once I stop next to her. The touch of her fingers as she runs them along my calf sends a jolt of electricity through me, burning away my nervousness. She looks up at me and smiles. “It’s going to be another sunny day.”

“Yeah, it looks that way.” It’s the best I can do, my nervousness now back and constricting my throat like an iron fist is clutching it. I know exactly what she means though. We’ve had nothing but icy cold rain and gale-force winds, since we arrived back to Italy a couple of weeks ago. It got so bad they paused the ferry transfers to Sicily for awhile. But these last two days, the weather’s held.

Maybe I should have picked a more romantic way of doing this, but sunrise is her favorite time of the day and this is one of her favorite spots in the world. She told me so before we returned to Italy to spend the rest of the summer here.

I stroke her soft, luscious hair then reach down to take her hand and guide her to her feet. It’s time. And me kneeling won’t exactly work if she’s sitting down.

She gives me a puzzled look, which only grows more surprised as I go down on one knee on the rocky ground, open the little box I’ve been clutching in my hand, and offer her the ring. “I love you, Tara. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

I practiced the words. But there was no need. They’d just flow from my mouth anyway. Her hand is covering her lips, but she’s nodding fast as she drops down to her knees too. She grabs the ring with one hand, pulls me into a hug with the other.

“Yes, Tommy, I’ll marry you,” she finally says, her lips less than half an inch from mine, her eyes glistening.

I kiss her deeply, passionately, lovingly, until everything but the soft touch of her lips, the warmth of her presence disappears, becomes inconsequential. Because it is. She’s all that matters.

Her eyes are brimming with tears when we finally break apart and she lets me put the ring on her finger. And I’d prefer it if she weren’t crying, but then again, she’s not doing it in sadness but joy, and tears are just one of those things I was able to give back to her. And I count that as a win, however messed up it sounds.

I wish I could give her my real name though, not this new one the witness protection program assigned me, and that desire is assaulting my mind pretty hard right now, taking chunks out of what should be a happy moment.

We’re sitting side by side on the cliffs now, and she’s leaning against me, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, mine around her shoulders.

“Can we get married here?” she asks admiring the way her ring sparkles in the sun’s rays.

“Yes, we can,” I say grinning at her. “I have all the paperwork ready. We can do it today, if you want.”

“You have all the paperwork? How did you know I’d say yes?” she asks wryly, smirking at me, her eyes the exact color of the ocean stretching out below us.

“I wanted to be ready,” I tell her. “And I was pretty sure you’d say yes.”

She nods slowly, knowingly, her eyes changing color again until they’re exactly like the summer sky just after sunrise.

“I thought that little church on the hill would be perfect,” she says and points off to the right. I know exactly which one she means. She goes there to pray sometimes. And the fact that she’d been imagining our wedding there just makes this moment that much more perfect, even lets me forget about my inability to give her my real last name. I betrayed the MC. I made my choices. I can’t say I regret them, not exactly, but maybe it could’ve all gone a different way.

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that,” I tell and pull her closer to me. She’s my rock and my reasons. “We can get married anywhere you want.”

She presses even closer to me until there’s literally no space left between us. I could just sit here, holding her all day. All year. My whole life. And maybe I don’t deserve to be this happy, but Tara does. And that’s the only thing that really matters.

* * *

Ready for the next installment in the Viper’s Bite MC series? Check out OUTLAW’S SALVATION (Viper’s Bite MC, Book 2), which tells Brett and Samantha’s story.