I cannot thank you all enough for the support you gave this story. I really fell in love with Happy and Emily and I loved writing this for them.

…

Chapter Sixteen.

"I don't like this at all, Emily," her dad said just as she knew he would.

She nodded. "I know."

"We are not going to approve of it," her mother added.

Again, she nodded. "I know. And I can't say what's going to happen between me and him. I just want to let you know that this is what is going on right now and I'm… he makes me happy," she tried to explain.

"He's in a gang!" Her mother practically yelled.

She didn't deny it because no matter how many times Happy said it was a club, she knew better. All she could do was nod in agreement with everything her parents were saying. She couldn't exactly argue with them. Yes, she was involved in a relationship with an older biker and even saying it to herself, she knew it made no sense and probably wasn't the best decision she had ever made and yet, what she had told her parents, it was the truth. Right now, in this moment, she was happy.

She really had no idea where it was going to go. As she told Tara, she couldn't see Happy getting married or being a father but for the time being, she wasn't thinking about that. She was only thinking about how she was still in her early twenties and she wasn't on some sort of clock or schedule. She had time for everything she wanted in life. And right now, she found herself wanting Happy.

She knew it didn't really make sense and she probably wasn't thinking clear but she just couldn't seem to give him up. She knew it was crazy and she knew this wasn't like her at all but with him, she couldn't seem to help herself.

"He's good to me," she said quietly. "He really is."

Her parents were silent, fuming, reading to yell some more but before they could, she stood up and slipped her messenger bag on over her head. She kissed her dad and then her mom on the cheek. She hadn't come over there, expecting them to accept the news when their daughter told them she had a new man in her life. She just came over to tell them because they were her parents and she loved them and they deserved to know what was going on in her life.

She left with a heavy feeling, suspecting that they wouldn't be talking to her for a while, and she got into her car parked in the driveway. She didn't expect Happy to meet them. Somehow, seeing him with his bald head and tattoos and scowl would probably just make things worse.

She had worked a shift overnight at the hospital and had gone to see her parents first thing in the morning. Now that that was done, she realized how exhausted she was. She wanted to just sleep for a few hours until she had to report for another shift at nine o'clock that night. She was working nights for the next six nights before she got a four-day weekend at the end of it.

Instead of going to her apartment, she drove to the clubhouse where if she timed this right, Happy was still probably asleep. The garage was open and had a few customers and she saw Gemma through the open door of the office. She waved to her and the older woman smiled, giving her a slight wave in return. The woman still scared the hell out of her but she had always been kind to her. Whatever was going on between her, Tara and Jax right now definitely wasn't any of her business.

The clubhouse was practically deserted. It usually was in the mornings like this. There was only Tig, passed out on the pool table. When Happy had told the other guys that she was his old lady and Jax – as president – had nodded with approval, it had been Tig who had exclaimed "About time!" but Happy had just looked at him and hadn't said anything else. He told her that Tig was in love with her and how he had read him her letters while they were both locked up, sharing a cell together. If he hadn't made her his, Tig would have gladly done so.

She quietly opened the door to Happy's room and sure enough, he was still sleeping in bed, flopped on his stomach, hugging the pillow to his face. She closed and locked the door behind her and then toed out of her shoes and pulled her light blue scrubs off. The shirt she usually slept in was kept in the top drawer of his dresser and she pulled it on, slipping the soft cotton over her head.

She crawled onto the bed beside him and as soon as she was lying down, his arm had shot out and flung over her stomach. She turned her head towards him but his eyes were still closed. She moved closer to him and closed her eyes, sighing tiredly.

"You gonna sleep here today?" He asked roughly.

"Is that alright?" She asked.

"You know I don't care," he said. "Like my things smelling like you."

And she smiled, knowing that things like that were considered big compliments from Happy. She didn't ask what he was doing that day. He would just say he had to handle some club business for Jax and never say anything more and she was getting used to never having her question answered. A part of her still didn't want to know. A part of her knew that the man beside her was not a good man and did things she would never want to know about but as she told her parents, he was good to her and loyal to her and for now, that was enough.

She couldn't help it and she leaned her head in, pressing her lips to his softly. His lips were instantly pressing back and sometimes, he kissed her gently and slowly, lazy almost, and she sank into it, losing herself and turning herself over completely.

She slipped her arms around him his neck and slowly, they rolled so he was on his back and she was lying on top of him. She loved when he was hard and demanding but she loved this, too. She loved when they kissed as if they had all of the time in the world to do nothing else.

But just as his hands were slipping beneath the tee-shirt and touching her bare back, there was a knock on the door.

"Hap!" It was Bobby. "Chapel in five minutes!"

They both seemed to simultaneously sigh with disappointment and with one more kiss to his lips, she slid from him so he could get up from the bed. She laid there and watched as he got dressed, pulling on his jeans and going to the dresser for a white tee-shirt. He seemed to have an endless supply of those.

"I told my parents about us," she said.

"How'd that go?" He asked, sitting down on the end of the bed to tug on his shoes.

"I won't be taking you to Sunday dinner at their house anytime soon," she said and he smirked, turning to look at her from over his shoulder. She got up on her knees and crawled to him, kneeling behind him, her arms slipping around his shoulders.

"You alright with that?" He then asked, looking at her closely.

"For the time being," she nodded. "I was expecting it but I'm an adult. I can do whatever I want. Being with you doesn't mean I don't love them anymore," she said.

He didn't say anything to that. Just looked at her for a moment, his black eyes penetrating her brown ones, and she still had no idea how to read him. She wondered if she would ever be able to.

She leaned into him and pressed her lips gently to his. She felt his hand slip to the back of her head and he pushed his lips back against hers. She remembered the first time he kissed her after driving her home from the diner and telling her he would be going away for a while. She hadn't even told her parents that he had been in prison – and more than once. That was a heart attack she didn't want to be responsible for. She would leave that to her brother and the woman he was currently dating with four children and who was technically still married. With that first kiss, he had put his hand on the back of her head, too.

Happy broke away and looked at her again for another minute before he stood up. He grabbed his leather cut, turning and looking at her as he pulled it on. He had gotten a new patch a few days ago – Sgt. At Arms – and she didn't know what that meant but she knew whatever it was, he was Jax's left hand man, right beneath Chibs in the order of things in their "club".

"You'll be alright?" He asked.

She nodded and smiled at him. "I'm just going to sleep."

He nodded and surprised her when he closed the space between them and kissed her on the head before turning and leaving the room. She sat there for a moment and smiled faintly to herself at the rare act of affection. She laid down again, resting her head on his pillow this time, still smiling.

…

The hospital had other ideas though and called her in after just five hours of sleep. She got dressed in her scrubs again, made the bed and folded the tee-shirt, returning it to the dresser drawer. Taking her bag, she left his room, closing the door behind her and saw no one else in the clubhouse. Outside, she saw most of their bikes gone.

She walked to her car and looked around for a moment as if expecting him to come roaring up in that moment but the air was quiet around them except for the work of the mechanics in the garage.

"They had to run an errand," Gemma said, reading her mind, approaching. "Not sure when they'll be back."

She gave a small smile. "I have to get back to the hospital. I guess I'll just see him when I see him." She opened her car door.

Gemma looked at her for a moment. "It's not an easy life, baby."

She nodded and swallowed as if her throat was dry. "I know. And I know I'll never be made for it. But right now, maybe, I'm made for him."

Gemma looked at her for a moment and then gave a faint smile. She reached out and rubbed her arm. "You're a good girl. And you're good for him. He was terrible when you weren't around."

"You could tell the difference?" She smiled and Gemma laughed a little.

"More terrible," she corrected and Emily laughed now. "Do you plan on sticking around with him for a while?"

She shrugged. "Happy and I haven't really talked about it but I hope so. He's keeping me as far away from all of this as he can."

Gemma nodded. "Doesn't always work out that way."

"We're going to keep trying to do that for as long as we can," Emily said.

"Being one of these guy's old lady isn't like having a boyfriend in high school," Gemma told her. "It's serious."

"I know," Emily nodded. Without anything else, she got into her car and rolled down her window after starting the ignition. "Guess it's a good thing I'm serious about him," she said to her and Gemma looked at her, taking a step away from the car so she could back out of the space and drive from the lot.

She knew she would never be like Gemma. That woman lived for the club. Breathed it, thought of nothing else. This was her life and this was all she had. She would never be like that and she got the feeling that Happy didn't want her to be.

…

Another six hours and she was finally home – this time in her apartment and completely exhausted. She barely was able to kick off her shoes and pull of her scrubs before she collapsed onto the bed in just her bra and underwear. The instant her head touched the pillow and her eyes were closed, she was asleep.

She woke up to a dark bedroom and a heavy weight behind her, an arm tossed of her hip. She blinked a few times, trying to wake her brain up, and she looked to the clock on her nightstand. Just a little after eleven. She wondered when he had come in. She hadn't even heard him.

She shifted and slipped from the bed, going to the bathroom. When she came out again, she saw that he had folded her scrubs, placing them on top of her dresser, and her shoes were side by side on the floor beside the bed. She smiled. He was such a neat freak. His own shoes, cut and sweatshirt were folded and on the floor beside his side of the bed. He still wore his jeans and tee-shirt.

She sighed with quiet relief as she took off her bra – she hated sleeping with one on – and she turned, tossing it into the hamper. In just her underwear, she crawled back onto the bed and this time, her slight movements woke him. He grunted something and rolled onto his back, blinking up at her. She smiled softly and without a word, she began unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans.

He didn't say anything. He simply laid there and watched her. He only lifted his hips when she tugged the jeans and boxers down his legs, tossing them off, pulling off his socks, too. He remained on his back, sitting up just enough to tug his tee-shirt off. She shifted herself, pulling her underwear off, and then she straddled him. His hands were instantly on her hips and she reached between her thighs, finding him and guiding him to her opening and they both sighed as she sank down onto him.

It wasn't always like this but sometimes, it was slow and gentle – usually when she was on top and he let her have the control. She rocked against him, her hands pressing down on his chest as she lifted herself up and down, never letting him leave her completely, and she sighed and moaned his name. She had gotten used to his size and it didn't sting anymore. Now, it just gave her nothing but pleasure. Amazing, delirious pleasure.

And after she came with a cry and nails in his skin, he grasped her hips and began thrusting into her from beneath, looking for his own finish.

She laid on top of him, both of them out of breath and their skin sticky with sweat, and she closed her eyes, feeling so content in that moment with his hard body beneath her and his fingers drawing light, random patterns on her back.

"You hungry?" She asked him softly.

"Yeah."

"Me, too. What do you have a taste for?" She lifted her head and looked at him.

His fingers were still on her back and his eyes stared into hers. He smiled a little. "Cheesecake," he answered.

She smiled, too.

…

The End.

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