Eternal Temptations (The Tempted Series Book 6)

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Eternal Temptations (The Tempted Series Book 6) Page 28

by Janine Infante Bosco


  My eyes immediately drop to her flat stomach covered with our hands, widening in shock as they lift back to hers. The blues of her eyes fill with tears as she answers the questions reflected in mine by nodding her head.

  Still, I ask the question, needing the words.

  “You’re pregnant?”

  “Yes,” she cries. “I took a test before we left but I didn’t have time to make a doctor’s appointment because you came home and brought us here,” she explains, squeezing my hands tightly. “I can’t have history repeat itself, Riggs—”

  I cut off her plea with my lips, gently covering hers with mine. It was an attempt to prove to her I wouldn’t let history repeat itself. The last time she told me she was pregnant I had an anxiety attack, lost my fucking shit at the thought of becoming a father. I didn’t kiss her; I didn’t give her all the words she needed to hear. Starting now, this very moment, I would prove to her everything would be different this time around. I’d be at every goddamn doctor’s appointment and I’d hold her damn hand as she delivered our kid. There was no way in hell history was repeating itself, no way I would let anyone take that from us—not this time, never again.

  “Nothing will happen to you or either of our kids,” I declare, my voice rougher than usual. “We’re going to stay here until this shit dies down and Anthony and Jack can assure us both it’s safe for us to go back to Brooklyn.”

  I lift my hands to her face, bend my knees as I cradle her face and stare into her framed eyes.

  So ducking gorgeous my Kitten was.

  Yeah, I said ducking.

  We were having another Pea.

  “I asked you to take a detour, you took my hand and ran. I asked you to fight your way back to me and Eric, you did it with vigor. I asked you to marry me, you said yes. I asked you to make another baby with me, you gave me another Pea. Now, I’m going to ask you to trust me, trust me with your life and the two we created together. I swear on everything I give a damn about, everything that matters, I will keep you safe. Are you going to take my hand and run with me one more time, Kitten?”

  She lifts her hands to mine, her small hands close around my wrists.

  “I’ll always run with you. I’ll hold on and swing right when there is an unexpected turn—”

  “Detour,” I correct her, smiling back at my baby mama.

  “I’ll run through every detour with you as long as you’re real with me. I promise you I can take it, I can handle everything you are and everything that’s thrown at us, but you need to trust that as much as I need to trust your capabilities of keeping us safe.”

  “You got yourself a deal, babe,” I answer, brushing my lips across hers. I pull back, taking her hands in mine, placing her at arm’s length to fully take her in. “Fuck, I’m lucky.”

  “Yeah, you are,” she laughs, dropping one of my hands to wipe at her cheeks. I tug her to my side and wrap my free arm around her, placing it on her belly.

  “Well, that didn’t take long.” I pondered. “I think I have super sperm.”

  She chuckles, turning her face into my chest, her laughter vibrating against my heart.

  Music to my fucking ears.

  I wanted more.

  More laughter, less tears.

  No fucking tears.

  “Come on, Kitten, let’s shake things up at Casa Montgomery.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Let’s tell Lenore she’s going to be a grandma again,” I laugh. “Shit, she’ll probably deplete the liquor supply but it’ll be fun to watch,” I kiss the top of her head before placing my index finger under her chin and cocking her head back so her eyes met mine. “I love you, Lauren Bianci.”

  I grinned to myself.

  I knocked up Kitten again.

  I was going to have two little rug rats.

  If I was a believer, I’d look up to the heavens and ask Him to keep sending the detours my way because they keep getting better and better.

  With my baby mama tucked into my side, the threat of doom somewhere flapping in the wind, we take off to the main house to rescue our ascot wearing toddler and break the news to the oil diggers that there would be another Montgomery heir to spoil with their millions.

  Life was good.

  Nah, it was fucking great.

  I dare someone to take this from me.

  I fucking dare them.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I glanced down at the photo staring back at me on top of the bar. It had seen better days; the edges were frayed and there were thick creases in it from folding it so many times throughout the years. It was my favorite photograph of my son. His innocent smile was as bright as the sun and his eyes full of joy. I used to carry it everywhere with me hence the tattered condition it currently was in, but as the edges wore I realized it was too precious to take with me everywhere I went. It felt wrong bringing him along with all the illegal shit going on, exposing him to the grit and mayhem. He was pure and innocent when he left this earth and that’s how he shall remain. Then there was always the nagging in my head that I’d drop the fucking picture, forget it somewhere and I’d lose him all over again.

  These days I keep the photograph on top of my dresser and it’s the first thing I see in the morning but today was different. I made a promise to my boy at his grave, told him I’d bring him with me for all the good, and today was the start of the good. Today, my ass was marrying Reina, and it didn’t get any better than that.

  I pour myself a shot, knock back the whiskey before folding the photo delicately in half and sliding it into the inside pocket of my cut, covering my heart. All my kids will be with me when Reina becomes my wife. Lacey would stand across from me, alongside my wife, and my boy would be in my heart. Then there was our kid tucked safely in Reina’s belly. Seemed like a perfect fucking union if you asked me.

  I turn around, taking in the transformation of my clubhouse and the clowns behind it. The prospects, Mack and Bosco, were lining up folding chairs, leaving a walkway in-between to make an aisle for Reina to walk down. Pipe was stringing Christmas lights around some sort of gazebo looking thing they brought in and placed in front of the reaper mural. Wolf, fucking Wolf, he was turning blue blowing up white balloons. Amused is what I was as I watched his cheeks fill with air as he blew into the white latex until his lungs threatened to collapse. He angrily ties a knot at the end and smacks the balloon away from him.

  “Deuce, go hang those fucking things somewhere,” he orders breathless. “Hey, Pipe, you bastard, you still don’t know where the fucking air pump is?”

  “I know where it is,” Pipe yells. “It’s at the garage where it fucking belongs.”

  “When I have a fucking heart attack and drop dead, it’s your ass I’m haunting,” Wolf grounds out as the door opens and Linc walks in with a man carrying a box.

  “Who the fuck is that?”

  “The florist.” Linc points his thumb toward the man staring at the clubhouse in horror.” I checked him out, the only thing this motherfucker has is wire and a fancy pair of sheers. Says he needs them to cut the stems and all that shit, isn’t that right?”

  “What the hell did you people do? Balloons?” He drops the box onto one of the tables and grabs one of the balloons off the floor, popping it with his hands.

  “Is this fucker kidding me?” Wolf bellows. “You got any idea how much wind was in that thing?”

  “Who hired you?”

  “Clearly, the bride,” the florist deadpans. “Is that a trellis?” He questions pointing to the thing Pipe was stringing the lights on. I should mention that the lights weren’t those little white lights people hang on everything, these were the old school Christmas lights. They were the colorful, big fat ones we hung from the gutters when we were kids.

  I shrug my shoulders, pushing off the bar and make my way toward the man. I place my arm around his shoulders and pat him on the back.

  “Reina hired you to make this pl
ace look nice, you do that, make it look real pretty in here,” I say, reaching into my pocket, pulling out a couple of bills, and shove them into his hands. “And add some sunflowers to the place.”

  “But that isn’t on the order,” he argues.

  “Make a new order,” I demand, smiling at him. “Make it happen flower boy.”

  Turning back to the bar I pour myself a drink, I lift my eyes as the door opens again and Lacey strolls in with Blackie on her tail. I pause, hand wrapped tight around the neck of the bottle as I drink my little girl in. Her heels had to be at least six inches, strappy things that decorated her calves. She was wearing an off the shoulder, black lace, cocktail dress and her hair was windblown—wild from being on the back of Blackie’s bike. My eyes dart to him and I catch him staring at her ass.

  “For fuck’s sake, you put her on the back of your bike dressed like that?” I seethe, shaking my head. To hell with the fucking glass, I take a swig straight from the bottle. My daughter smiles widely as she reaches for the bottle and wraps her arms loosely around my neck.

  “You’re not allowed to be a grump on your wedding day,” she says, pressing a smacking kiss to my cheek as I wrap my arms around her and hug her tightly, keeping my eyes on Blackie.

  “I’m with Lace.”

  “Of course you are, you don’t want me to strangle you,” I tease.

  “Then you’d have no best man,” he retorts, smiling back at me.

  Lacey pulls back, turning slightly, so she is standing in between me and Blackie.

  “First of all I insisted we go on the bike and I also insisted I get dressed before we leave so I can help Reina,” she points out. “He just goes along with what I say,”

  “She wears the leather around here,” Blackie jokes, grabbing her around the waist and pressing her back against his front.

  “Lost your balls, did you?” I raise an eyebrow and turn my gaze toward Lacey. “Anyone ever tell you you’re hard headed?”

  “I wonder where I get that from,” she laughs.

  “Have no idea what you’re talking about, Lace,” I say innocently, winking at her before turning my attention back to Blackie. “You have the ring, right?”

  “Shit,” he mutters.

  “You had one fucking job—”

  “I’ve got the ring,” he interrupts, flashing me a smile as he runs his hands over his cut, patting his pockets before reaching inside and producing a tiny, black, velvet box. I take it from his hands, flip up the top and stare at the custom wedding band designed with two rows of canary yellow diamonds.

  Sunshine.

  Always.

  Lacey leans over my shoulder to get a peek at the ring, a smile spreading wide across her face as she stares at it.

  “Wow, it’s beautiful Dad,” she says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Reina’s going to love it.”

  I hope so.

  I take the ring between my fingers, pull it out of the box to turn it over to inspect the band. There engraved into the gold are the two words that sum up our relationship.

  You.

  Me.

  Lifting my eyes to Blackie, I crack a smile and tip my chin.

  “Thanks for getting it done,” I say.

  “What’s a best man good for if he can’t pick up a ring?” He slaps my shoulder, leaning forward to press a kiss to Lacey’s cheek. “I’m going to make a quick run, check things out and get a handle on this hair,” he points to his wild locks, looking to me and giving me a look. Words may not have been spoken, but they were reflected in his eyes.

  Going to check out the security on the property.

  I got you, brother.

  “Don’t you dare touch the hair,” Lacey orders, cocking her head to the side. “I mean comb it, maybe tie it back but if you so much as cut a centimeter of it—”

  “Don’t you worry, girl. I know you like it…” His eyes turn to mine and he smiles sheepishly leaving the rest of his answer on his tongue. Smart fucking man.

  Silently, I hand him the ring to keep safe until the ceremony and watch him walk out the door to check the perimeter of the building. I turn toward Lacey, noticing her eyes are still pinned to the door Blackie just walked through.

  “Hey, pretty girl, where are you?” I question, stepping in front of her to draw her attention back to me. “Lace?”

  Shaking away whatever thoughts took her mind hostage for a brief moment she averts her gaze back to mine and forces a smile.

  “Sorry, I was daydreaming,” she explains.

  I wanted to believe that Lacey was capable of the simple things like daydreams but knew it wasn’t likely. That bitch of a maker was planting seeds of fire in her brain but this time she was able to fight against it. Ignore the voice dragging her down. Wish like hell she fought and won every damn time. Wish like hell, I didn’t have to watch her battle her mind like I do.

  The hyper florist stood alongside me, dropping a box on the bar before firing instructions at me and Lacey.

  “Boutonnieres and bouquets are in there.” He points at Lacey. “Are you part of the wedding party?”

  “I am the wedding party,” she laughs at the frazzled man in front of her, leaning over the box to inspect the contents. “I’ll take care of it,” she confirms, lifting a boutonniere.

  “Are you ready to get married?” She questions, opening the clear plastic container holding the flowers.

  “I’m ready,” I assure her, watching as she lifts the delicate flowers and pulls out the pin in the back of the arrangement. I angle my head to the side as I study her. I take a step back as I envision my little girl dressed as a bride and I am the one holding the flowers, handing her a bouquet before walking her down the aisle.

  Shit, that will happen one day.

  Probably a lot sooner than I’d like.

  “One day it’ll be you,” I rasp, as she closes the space I put between us and touches the worn leather of my cut. She stares up at me through her long eyelashes, smiling as she pins the boutonniere beneath my patch declaring me the president of my club. “All dressed in white, you’ll probably want to make your grand entrance on a bike…”

  “Will you take me to church on your bike with my big pretty dress?”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “What if I asked you to wear a tux?”

  A fucking tuxedo. Shit, I glance down at what I considered dress attire—black jeans, new so they still looked black and not gray, a white dress shirt and my leather cut. Oh, and the new leather moto boots that Reina insisted I buy for the wedding.

  Reina was good with the biker wedding. As long as she got to pretty herself all up she didn’t care what I wore, aside from the worn boots. She wasn’t having it. Glancing around the clubhouse, taking in how the florist was making this place take shape for a wedding, I knew it was perfect for me and Reina but not Lacey.

  Lacey would be the one to stuff me into a monkey suit.

  They say a daughter is a man’s weakness. It’s the fucking truth.

  She laughs as she smooths down her hand over my vest.

  “I’m kidding,” she teases, kissing my cheek before stepping back and giving me a once over. “Okay, big guy, my job here is done. You look ready to marry the love of your life. It’s time for me to go primp the bride,” she declares, pressing another noisy kiss to my cheek. “I’m really happy for you, Dad.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart, means a lot,” I reply, bringing her against my chest one more time.

  “You’re going to squash the flowers!”

  “Fuck it, we’ll get some more,” I kiss the top of her head. “Love you, Lace.”

  “Love you too.”

  After a few moments I loosen my grip on her, watch as she balances herself in her heels and grab the box of flowers on top of the bar.

  “Where is the blushing bride, anyway?”

  I grunt, shaking my head at the ridiculousness.

  “She’s upstairs in my room
, refusing to let me see her. I had to sleep here last night too and snuck out this morning so she could shimmy her ass in here,” I growl. “Woman is superstitious as all hell,” I say, taking another swig of the whiskey as Lacey’s laughter vibrates through me and her heels click across the floor.

  Lacey disappears up the stairs to tend to Sunshine, leaving me with the florist and the baker that had arrived with the cake. All we were missing here was the fucking candlestick maker. Pipe and Wolf took to my sides, the nomads too. Except for Linc, who walked around the bar and pulled a few clean glasses out and filled them with the whiskey I was hogging.

  “Think this day deserves a toast.” Pipe begins. “Never thought you’d take an Old Lady, much less marry one,” he says, handing me a glass.

  “Fucking threw me for a loop too,” Wolf admits, raising his glass.

  “And she’s hot,” Linc adds, earning a glare from me.

  “The woman can cook too,” Wolf chimes in. “Not just a pretty face and smoking piece of ass.”

  “Wolf,” I growl.

  “Calm your tits, Parrish. Can’t help a man for appreciating beauty.” He lets out a huge belly laugh.

  “To Jack and Reina,” Pipe cheers. “Here’s to health, wealth, and the little biker that’s going to be running around this place.”

  raise my glass, tipping my chin to my brother in appreciation.

  “To Reina,” I add. “And all the sunshine she brings to this place.”

  “To Sunshine,” everyone cheers.

  The Bill Wither’s song, Ain’t No Sunshine, always reminded me of Reina, especially after Jimmy Gold kidnapped her.

 

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