Lips On My Heart

by M J Marino

  Josephine is twenty-seven. I know she will want to be married first before we start a family. But after Opal told me planning a wedding could take up to a year, I started doing the calculations in my head.

  A year from now, I’ll be thirty-one. If we get pregnant right off the bat, it’s another forty weeks till the baby comes, meaning I may as well round up to thirty-two. Josephine is not going to want back-to-back pregnancies, and two in diapers will be rough, which means we wait another year and another forty weeks.

  I’m looking at thirty-four before I have two kids. And I want way more than two kids with Josephine—I want a fucking bus-load.

  Okay, maybe not a bus-load, but three to four sounds like a nice number to me. I could be nearly forty when our final kid comes into the world.

  Fuck, that’s too long.

  I throw my comb down on the counter in frustration. “Josephine, I want you to get that IUD out now!” I growl.

  Josephine looks at me wide-eyed with her mouth open and her toothbrush hanging out.

  Okay, that could have come out better.

  But fuck, I want to start a family. I want to go to the courthouse, have a judge marry us, and start the next phase of our lives. She deserves the wedding of her dreams, I agree, but I want the family of our dreams. I don’t want to be fucking forty when it’s finally complete. I need to explain to her where my head is at.

  She spits in the sink and her eyes flash. “Excuse me?” she questions with a hand on her hip.

  Shit. I need to explain fast before she takes my comment like a demand, which it kind of is, but if I play nice and beg, maybe she’ll go along with it. “Let me explain,” I plead.

  “Oh, please do,” she says frigidly. I’m on thin ice right now. I better think before I open my damn mouth.

  “I want kids with you, now,” I blurt.

  Yep, let that shit fly. Think before speaking, my ass.

  Josephine’s eyes are narrowed, but she sighs and calmly looks at me. “Maceo, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume there’s a lot more going on in your head than what you’re revealing. Why don’t you start again from the top?”

  Thank you, sweet baby Jesus!

  Before spilling myself open, I try to relax. “I know you want to be married first. But Opal said it may take a year to plan a wedding. It could take a long time to get pregnant too. And then it’s forty more weeks of waiting. And that’s only kid number one! What about kids number two, three, and four? Each one forty more weeks, plus time between each one. I don’t want to be a geriatric man throwing the ball around with my kids and not being able to keep up because I’ll need a knee replacement. I want to be alive when they graduate or get married,” I ramble, staring at her with my hands flying into my hair, my voice raising an octave.

  Shit, shit, SHIT!

  Josephine grabs me by the shoulders. “Maceo, I want you to take a deep breath. Okay? Can you do that for me? Breathe in, breathe out.”

  I mimic her breathing and my hands fall away from my hair.

  “Now I want you to listen to me, okay? I know you want children. You’ve pretty much wanted me pregnant since the first time we had sex. And don’t think I didn’t catch how unhappy you were when I told you I had an implant. You’ve been dropping hints left and right about wanting a family. I’m not opposed to having kids. We need to discuss how many we’ll be trying for, because four seems like a lot, and I don’t see you as the type of dad who’s going to be okay driving a minivan,” she says in a reasonable tone.

  Wrong!

  “I’ll drive a minivan!” I say quickly. If that’s the way I get the amount of kids I want with Josephine, I will fucking rock the minivan. Of course, I’ll still have my bike to keep me cool.

  Josephine holds up her hands to stop me. “Okay, the amount of kids isn’t the important part here. Maceo, you’re being dramatic. You’re acting like you’re going to be an old man tomorrow and you will not be old until decades from now, not a decade, but decades. You’re still going to be alive when our kids graduate and get married. Christ, you’re still going to be running around and throwing a ball when we have grandchildren because that’s the kind of man you are.”

  My ears perk up on the word ‘grandchildren.’ “You think we can convince our kids to get married and have kids early?”

  Josephine rolls her beautiful blue eyes. “If I say sure will you settle down?”

  “Maybe,” I admit before sighing. “I’m sorry. I know I’m freaking out about this. Since I’ve found you, I see myself wanting the whole package. I want a big family with a house full of loud kids. Maybe I feel this way because I never had my parents or any siblings, I don’t know. All I know for sure is that I want to have this family with you, and I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  Josephine nods. “I’m not agreeing to anything right now, but I will put your mind at ease on some of this. One, I don’t need a big fancy wedding, only a nice one. Two, it won’t take a year to plan because I like late summer or fall and that’s coming up. Three, if I get the build done in the next month, we could have the wedding there. It will be big, spacious, everyone will fit and no one will have to travel. Four, I’ll remove the IUD after we get married, so we can start trying for kids. And five, I may be kicking myself later for mentioning this to you, but my mom was a natural twin, and her grandmother before her. We have a real chance at killing two birds with one stone and having multiple babies at once.”

  My heart fucking leaps. Twins. We could have twins. That’s two babies in one pregnancy. Two pregnancies have the possibility to produce two sets of twins. That’s four kids right off the bat. The fucking family of my dreams will be complete all before the age of thirty-four. Fucking GOLD!

  With my heart jackhammering, I haul Josephine in my arms, cheering like a wild fan at a sporting event, not giving two shits if I wake the entire house. Josephine is a gift from God, created specifically for me.

  All my dreams for us are within reach. But first we need to finish the build. Throwing Josephine over my shoulder, I race out of the bathroom and down the hall.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Gauge say, stumbling out of the bedroom with his gun drawn, mistaking my excitement for danger. Chase is right behind him, yanking on his boots.

  I swing around and face my brothers. “We’re having TWINS!” I scream at the top of my lungs, banging on my chest like fucking King Kong with his woman.

  “Holy shit! Jo’s pregnant?!” Punk calls out from the bedroom.

  “No, I’m fucking not!” she screams back to the whole house.

  Giddy, I spank her juicy ass since it’s right there next to my face. “She will be soon,” I promise the entire house before remembering the agenda. “Shit. Can’t talk. I’ve got to get her over to the build and finish the damn thing, now.” I’m running out of the house to my bike.

  Josephine’s screaming at the top of her lungs, but I honestly can’t hear a thing she’s yelling at me. I’m too jacked up. I finally put her on the ground, kiss her full on the lips, and hop on my bike, waiting for her.

  “Maceo, I don’t have my work boots on. I don’t have my keys to the trailer and buildings. I don’t have my laptop, which I definitely need. And you’re completely barefoot,” she says in a rush, probably afraid I’ll haul her over my bike if she doesn’t hop on.

  I look down at myself. Sure enough, I’m barefoot. I laugh out loud because I’m slap happy. I probably would have driven off and not felt the difference.

  Quickly, I get off my bike and run into the house after Josephine to finish getting dressed. My mind keeps racing, thinking about everything Josephine revealed.

  A wedding at the new MC clubhouse this fall would be fucking awesome. She’s right when she says it will more than meet our needs as well as any guests invited. The kitchen is big enough for a catering company. There are bathrooms galore. The backdrop outside will be fucking stunning for an outdoor ceremony. If she’s okay with doing the wedding at our new home
, I’m all for it.

  We’ll be married by fall. IUD comes out after the honeymoon—hmm, maybe I can convince her to remove it before the wedding. We could try to conceive during our honeymoon. Either way, we’ll be pregnant with twins by Christmas for sure!

  “You know I can hear you, right? You’re talking out loud,” Josephine says, walking back outside. “And just because twins run in my family, doesn’t mean it’s a for sure thing with us.”

  “Oh, it’s happening. We’re totally having twins. And I’m going to get you pregnant again and it will be another set of twins. I feel it right here,” I say confidently, pointing at my chest where my new tattoo is.

  Josephine chuckles. “You’ll get what you get and won’t throw a fit.”

  “I’ll get what I give you, which will be two sets of twins,” I say proudly.

  As I climb on my bike, I’m hit with a conundrum. “Oh my God, where are we going to put them all?”

  “I told you, we’ll get a minivan if it comes to that,” Josephine says, calmly, strapping on her helmet and climbing on.

  How can she be fucking calm right now? This is serious!

  “Not the vehicle. I’m talking about the clubhouse. Where are we going to keep four kids in the presidential suite? It’s not going to work, Pixie. You need to add a fourth story to the building,” I ramble, panicked.

  Josephine sighs. “You really want to raise our children in the Mercy Ravens MC clubhouse?”

  I’m not opposed to it. I mean, the guys are all there to help keep an eye on them and the bunnies could help…Oh my God!

  Between my men and the bunnies fornicating like they currently do, and how much they plan on doing more once we move into the bigger space, there’s no way we can allow our kids to live under that roof. My God, it would be a nightmare once they hit puberty.

  “What are we going to do?” I ask miserably.

  “Relax, future hubby. I got this. You have a hundred acres.”

  “We have a hundred acres,” I correct, rubbing her hands around my waist.

  “Yes, we’ve got a hundred acres,” she says again more slowly, and her words finally sink in my thick head.

  “You could build us a house on the property!”

  “Ding, ding, ding! Yay! We have a winner,” she teases.

  “Where would we build it on the property?” The wheels in my head start rotating with ideas.

  “Wherever you want, baby. If you want it right next door, I can do it. If you want to move an acre or two away, I can do that too. If you want it on the other side of the property, I’ll make it happen. Let me finish the clubhouse first. Next, I can plan the wedding. I can draw up a couple drafts of a house we can agree on after the wedding. We’ll build the house and work on babies after we’re settled,” she says causally.

  I shake my head. The timeline is too long for my liking. “Wedding planning and house drafts together, followed by babies. We can live in the clubhouse with the babies till the house is done,” I counter.

  Josephine huffs. It’s her trademark gesture when she’s pissed off. “You expect me to plan a wedding in two months’ time, and work on house drafts, all while continuing my regular job? And don’t you dare tell me to quit my job.”

  I snap my mouth shut because it’s exactly what I was going to suggest, and I would be a damn fool if I let it slip. Josephine’s job is important to her and of course I want her to keep working if it pleases her.

  Part of me wants to make her aware she doesn’t need to work anymore if she chooses. I’m set for life with the work I do, and she and our future kids will be well taken care of if anything were to happen to me. Best to keep it to myself until another, more appropriate time comes along.

  “I would like to have our house done before we bring our babies into this world. I deserve it, as do our children. I want our memories to be in our own home and not the headquarters,” she adds.

  Annoyed, I chew on the inside of my cheek. I hate to admit I agree with her. I want our kids’ first steps, first words, first everything to be in our forever home. I groan and look up at the early morning sky. “Fine,” I concede, begrudgingly.

  She squeezes me tightly. “Thank you, hubby,” she says sweetly.

  I smile hearing her say ‘hubby’ a second time and turn to look at her. “I like my new pet name, you know.”

  She giggles and her eyes sparkle. “I do too. Now hurry up and get me to work.”

  Eager for her to crack the whip and finish our build, I start my bike and pull away at a more controlled pace than what I thought myself possible of earlier.

  Fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling onto the property. None of the other workers have arrived yet, which is exactly the way Josephine likes it. Her routine involves using the next thirty minutes to go over everything, helping the day to run smoothly.

  And that was the plan until we come to the trailer where she keeps her office on-site. The door is partially open and beat to shit. I climb off the bike and grab my gun from my ankle holster.

  “Stay outside. Call Gauge,” I tell her and make my way to the trailer. I push the door wide open and stare in shock.

  The whole place has been tossed. Blueprints and drafts are ripped and thrown about. The desks and chairs are on their sides. The filing cabinet’s drawers have been yanked out and its contents are scattered on the trailer floor. Jared’s computer looks like it was bashed with something substantial, like a hammer or something bigger. Good thing Josephine takes hers home every night, otherwise hers would be in as bad of shape.

  But none of this bothers me as much as what I see spray painted across the wall. My heart drops in my stomach and I have to count down from ten before I fly into a rage.

  “Maceo, what’s going on?” Josephine asks behind me. She gasps as she reads the words on the wall.

  BIKER WHORE.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Josephine

  There are no words to describe the terror I’m feeling. I run out of the trailer and rush to the main house, sick to my stomach about what else might be damaged. I run and examine everything. Maceo runs after me.

  “Pixie, stop! What are you doing?” he asks, clearly panicked.

  “My fucking job, that’s what. I need to make sure this fucker didn’t damage anything else on the property,” I spit, checking all the windows, doors, and siding. All looks to be intact. Thank fuck for that. I sprint to the garages and do the same. Everything is fine.

  I run to the mechanic shop and see the side door is wide open. Of course, the one fucking place on the property which was complete would be the spot this fucker chose to wreak havoc.

  Maceo reaches me and stops me from advancing. He doesn’t say anything but gives me a look which I’m quickly learning means to give him the lead. I watch him go inside, cursing up a storm.

  “Sonofabitch. I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this!” he roars from inside. I feel queasy, but I go in to assess the damage.

  Maceo had every right to scream his head off, but unlike him, I want to weep. Looks like the asshole took a sledgehammer and went to town on the hydraulic lift. It’s bent in impossible ways. All the built in cabinets took a hit too.

  Oddly enough, the prick left the painted walls untouched as well as the concrete floors. Small thanks for that. But between the lift and the cabinetry, the budget took a ten thousand dollar hit. I had been dropping the majority of what was left of the budget into the high tech intel room for Chase, and now I have no way of making this up. I’m going to have to come up with the money from somewhere.

  Everything is going topsy-turvy. First, was the fiasco with Jacob being kicked off the project and throwing Maceo over the edge. Second, was the panty-snatcher and being forced out of my condo. Third, was the Esteban encounter that freaked the hell out of everyone. Fourth, was the phone call from dad where he showed he and my mom still side with Jacob—I’m still angry as hell about it and frustrated knowing Maceo isn’t going to let me stew over it for long. I love my par
ents, even after everything, but I will not tolerate them talking negatively about Maceo when they haven’t even met him.

  And now this shit with the MC build being vandalized is one too many things on my shoulders. Moisture starts to build in my eyes.

  Maceo grabs me and holds me to him as my tears spill over. “It’s okay, baby. We’re going to catch the fucker and I will take care of him,” he says, running his hands over me comfortingly.

  “What the hell?” Jared says, walking into the shop. “W-what, why?” he stutters with anger.

  “If you think this is bad, don’t go in the trailer,” I mumble.

  Jared looks ashen and he sinks to the floor, surveying the damage. “I saw it. Who did this?”

  “We don’t know,” I say, choking on a sob.

  Jared is suddenly jumping to his feet. “Your men installed the outdoor security cameras after that man approached in the car. The bastard has to be on video!”

  Maceo releases me and pulls out his phone. “Chase. Bring up the footage of the build site. Start with Saturday morning around one.” Maceo walks out of the garage to the thunder of motorcycles coming on the property.

  Jared comes up to me and pulls me into a hug. I lean into his chest and he lets me go ahead and ruin his flannel button-down with my tears. “It’s okay, Jo. We’re not going to let anything happen to you. Between Maceo’s crew and ours, you’re safe. The Ravens are going to find who did this and they’ll make him pay.”

  “This is going to set us back a lot of time and money. Fuck!” I cry.

  Punk comes into the shop with Gauge, and spots me falling apart on Jared. Punk’s eyebrows rise up and he gives Gauge a look. He then marches up to Jared and pulls me gently, but firmly, from his arms before swinging me up and cradling me to his chest. Without a word, Punk carries me out of the shop.

  I hear Gauge speak to Jared in a low voice. “Don’t let Atlas catch you comforting his woman.”