Diesel had finished the basement and turned it into a gym with enough space to practice self-defense. They’d worked out an agreement with the gym, and they’d been teaching self-defense classes for five weeks, sometimes with Lior, sometimes without, but always together. They offered free classes to the women at the Parkvale shelter. They both still worked at the bar, sneaking kisses, doing dirty things after hours, and loving every second of it.

Tracey heard Diesel moving around in the bedroom and glanced in that direction, her eyes catching on her guitar propped up beside the couch in the living room. He’d surprised her before Thanksgiving with a month of guitar lessons from a local musician, and he loved listening to her play as much as she loved playing. She looked at the pictures of their families and friends decorating the walls. Many of which were from his childhood. Tracey swore the pictures of his mother added more than a little dash of magic to their life. They’d brought her hobbit snow globe and other items from Colorado, and Diesel smiled every time he saw them. For a man who had lived life on the road, never staying long enough for grass to grow beneath his feet, he sure knew how to make a warm, loving home. She looked up at the ceiling, sending a silent thank-you to his mother.

She had a feeling their mothers would have been best friends. They saw her mother’s family often, and out of the blue, her mother had started calling Diesel Dezzie. Her mother hadn’t known that was what his mother had called him, and Tracey had clued her in and asked her not to call him that. But Diesel had chosen to show his softer side and had happily approved of the nickname. He’d even used some of those saved-up words of his to tell her mother and her family a few lovely stories about his mother. Anna and Malia had spent a weekend with Tracey and Diesel last month, and they’d loved the creek and riding on his motorcycle. Although Diesel had become as protective of them as he was of Tracey, and he wasn’t too thrilled about Malia’s declaration that she wanted to date a biker. He’d given her one of his sternest looks and said, You know you’re not dating for at least another ten years, right? Tracey and the girls had enjoyed a good laugh over that.

“Babe, have you seen my shirt?” Diesel came into the kitchen looking like sex on legs, wearing only dark blue dress pants and a blue tie draped around his neck. His eyes swept over her, and he prowled toward her. “Is that my dress shirt?”

“You always say what’s yours is mine.”