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Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

Page 366

by Kathryn C. Kelly


  “Fuck, Puff so fucking pretty in her orange leather,” Val said, almost in awe, as Johnnie rushed to meet Kendall, then marched her to where they all stood before resuming his place.

  Christopher would’ve thought they’d need to run down the aisle by the end, just to keep up with the song, but they had it timed, so when Megan appeared, looking so fucking sexy Christopher decided he’d scope out a place to fuck her, the song concluded just as he reached her.

  Once they got into place, Father Wilkins opened his book, nodding to the usher.

  “Wait, I have to meet Bunny in the middle,” Digger announced, ignoring Mort’s glare.

  “Motherfucker, if you doing what the fuck I think you about to do…”

  “Again, my wedding, not yours, Mort.” Grinning, Digger took his place in the middle of the room, then whistled.

  The doors opened as a song Christopher had never heard came over the speakers.

  “Prez, that song called Now That We Found Love,” Mort said on a sigh. “Bunny going to regret this shit.”

  “She got all this from a website,” Val informed them. “Puff told me she looked on a site for wedding songs, so it’s not all Digger.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Father Wilkins said, snapping his book shut and tossing it to the floor.

  Christopher missed Riley handing Bunny over to Digger, and went straight to the two of them dancing the rest of the way down the aisle, his dreads swinging along with her hair. When they reached them, Mort smacked Digger’s head.

  “You forgot to let him ask who gave her away, fool.”

  “Fuck, I’m sorry.” Digger looked at Bunny, who didn’t seem too fucking heartbroken. “Let’s do it over from where I took you from him.”

  “Absolutely not,” Father Wilkins said. “I refuse to allow you to desecrate the sanctity of marriage with your nonsense.”

  Bunny frowned at Father Wilkins, the happiness on her face dissolving.

  “If you make her cry, I’ma have to shoot the fuck outta you,” Christopher growled. “She a pregnant bitch and pregnant bitches cry for every-fuckin-thing.”

  Digger hugged her. “He didn’t mean nothing, Bunny.”

  “I thought this would be fun,” she said. “Not nonsense.”

  “It ain’t, babe,” Christopher said in a hurry, before the other girls saw Bunny’s distress and came running to her. Then, that would delay the ceremony and him getting to Megan. “Your shit perfect.” He glared at Wilcunt. “Just when I think you kinda cool, you fuck up. If you don’t want to be fucked up, tell Bunny her weddin’ fine.”

  “Ten grand,” Johnnie coughed out.

  “Your wedding is perfect for this crew, Bunny,” Wilcunt said, ignoring Christopher’s glare.”

  Digger kissed her. “See? I told you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Bunny, you could be hula-hooping to kettle drums,” Mort told her. “Digger right. It’s your day. Don’t matter what us motherfuckers think.”

  Mort’s words appeased her and she nodded, happy again.

  “Thanks, brother,” Digger said, his arms going around Bunny’s waist.

  As Wilkins started reading, Digger stole a pinch from Bunny’s ass, then straightened, ignoring their snickers to marry the girl of his dreams.

  Stretch frowned at the charred chicken sitting on top of half-cooked dough. Exchanging a glance with Fee as they sat in Cash’s living room, he scowled.

  “What the fuck is this, Cash?”

  “Um, barbeque chicken pizza,” Fee said under her breath, before pressing her lips together to hold back a grin.

  “You two want me domesticated. Take it or leave it,” Cash growled.

  Stretch sat his plate on the table as Cash grabbed a beer and Fee rested against the sofa. After the delicious pizza Fee had cooked, Stretch had been looking forward to the same from Cash when Stretch called and told him his plane was an hour behind schedule.

  “Fine, babe,” Cash had said. “That’ll give me time to run to the grocery store for dinner.”

  “Fee’s cooking?”

  “No, asshole. I am.”

  Stretch hadn’t believed Cash’s indignant words. However…seeing was fucking believing. Cash had cooked. More’s the pity. After a long fucking flight and a lot of information during his time in New York, Stretch regretted not following his instinct and picking up Chinese on his way in.

  “Do you have anything in the freezer, Cash?” Fee asked, crossing her legs. She had a pretty pink polish on her toenails, drawing Stretch’s eye to her ankles and up her legs, making him wonder what she wore underneath her little skirt. “I’ll whip up something for us.”

  “I have vodka and bourbon in my freezer,” Cash replied, swigging from his bottle. “If you can make something from that, go for it, sweetheart.”

  Fee rolled her eyes and shifted, her movements driving Stretch a little insane. He didn’t think she was tempting him on purpose, but she sat so relaxed in the little skirt and tight sweater. After being away for a week, he wanted her.

  “Do you have pasta?” she asked.

  Cash shrugged from his end of the sofa. Nowadays, they all shared the couch. Cash had abandoned his solitary chair, in favor of this new arrangement, with Fee between them. As a matter of fact, they were doing a lot together lately. “In the cabinet, but it has to be cooked.”

  “Let’s hope you don’t keep cooked spaghetti in a fucking cabinet,” Stretch murmured.

  “Fuck off,” Cash bit out. “Instead of being so fucking sarcastic, why don’t you share with us what you’ve decided?”

  “Maybe, because he’s hungry like me,” Fee guessed.

  “Cook some other time,” Cash suggested, holding up his phone. “Let’s order from the sandwich shop. While we wait for delivery, we can talk.”

  “Okay,” Fee and Stretch chorused.

  Because they always ordered the same items from the place, Cash didn’t have to wait for a menu review before calling in the order.

  Grabbing another beer from his lineup, he leaned back. “So what’ve you decided?”

  Curling against him, Fee slid her hand through the crook of his arm. “Yeah, spill, babe. We want to know.”

  Stretch squeezed Fee’s hand, then regarded Cash. “Right,” he said, smiling with satisfaction. “As you guys know, I’ve always had my own doctor, but Zoann did some researching on my behalf. In my opinion, I’ve found a miracle worker. Dr. Walker’s an acclaimed orthopedic surgeon and the best qualified to do the type of repairs I need.”

  “Will the surgery lesson your pain?” Fee asked, stealing Cash’s beer and sipping from it.

  “For the most part,” Stretch answered, grinning at Cash’s scowl. He snatched his beer back, finished it off, and smirked at Fee. Those two acted worse than children sometimes. Of course, Fee felt the same way about him and Cash. “I keep wondering how it’ll feel to be free of pain.”

  “Quit wondering and get it done!” Fee ordered.

  “Yeah, about that. Surgery’s already scheduled. It’s in two weeks.”

  “What?” Cash and Fee chorused.

  “You’re just telling us now, Woo Woo?” Cash snapped, slamming his bottle on the table and glaring at him.

  “Yes, Stretch, anything can go wrong,” Fee admonished. “You two should be married before that happens.”

  “What did you say?” Stretch managed, so surprised by her words he couldn’t move, and Cash froze altogether.

  Sure he’d misheard, Cash stared at Fee. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

  You know what she means.

  He certainly did, but why did his heart start to pound at the prospect? Why did long buried dreams suddenly come to life? This wasn’t supposed to happen. If he’d run from Fee when she mentioned marriage, shouldn’t he run from the same idea with Stretch, too?

  Fee grabbed his hand in one of her own and Stretch’s in the other, then joined them together on her lap. She covered their hands with one of her own.

  “We
have a lot to work out,” she said softly. “I’m ready for us to move together. Find a way to legally tie each other together, but you know what? You two are meant to be married.”

  “Ophelia—” Cash started, attempting to pull his hand away.

  Even before Stretch tightened his hold, Fee stopped Cash.

  “You love him, Cash. You love me, too. I know you do, but this is the right thing to do. All along I’ve seen what you were to one another.”

  Intending to deny her, Cash looked at Stretch, and saw all he needed to know. All he’d ever wanted but had been too fucking stubborn to admit. They had their woman, just as they’d always wanted. And they had each other, as they’d always dreamed.

  “There’s no fucking way,” Cash said, thinking of the club. Outlaw might’ve laid down the law, but Cash couldn’t see him marrying Stretch going over well. “I’m a biker. Stretch’s a biker.”

  “Who has to know?” she said. “Just out family and us. But you should marry. You deserve this.”

  Was this a fucking setup? All along she’d been gung-ho on her marrying a motherfucker. Suddenly, it was okay for him and Stretch to marry.

  “I love you both enough to want this for you,” she said. “As long as I have my children, I’m at peace knowing you two are finding the happiness you deserve. With each other.”

  “When did this come about?” he sneered, going into asshole mode.

  “Tonight. Now. Sitting here with you two.”

  Just as he suspected. He shook his head. “You’re going to regret this.”

  “No, I won’t. I’m at peace,” she reiterated.

  “I agree with Cash, Fee,” Stretch finally said, the light in his eyes dimming slightly.

  Cash hadn’t known he’d ever thought about marriage to him, but based on his reaction he had.

  “Don’t,” Fee insisted. “I can see you want this with him. Don’t deny yourself.”

  “I do,” Stretch admitted without hesitation. “But I’d never considered such a prospect. It was an impossible goal.”

  “Nothing’s impossible,” she said fiercely. “You shouldn’t give up your dreams for no one.”

  “Says the girl whose giving up hers,” Cash snapped.

  “I’m not. I’m amending mine. I’ve always wanted a family. Marriage was a dream, but our love is enough for me. Our children,” she stressed.

  Could they really do this? Did he really want this?

  “Cash,” Fee whispered. “Will you marry Stretch and spend the rest of your life making him happy?”

  Cash laughed at Fee’s words—they sounded so fucking absurd—but nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak, swearing he felt moisture in his eyes.

  She looked at Stretch. “Stretch, will you marry Cash and spend the rest of your life making him happy?”

  “Yes,” Stretch said in all seriousness, before covering Fee’s hand with his free one. “As long as you’re right with us.”

  She smiled. “Just try and get rid of me. Now, kiss. We have a wedding to plan.”

  “Sign on the dotted line,” Kendall said a week later, sliding the contract to Fee, then handing a copy to Cash and Stretch as they sat in front of her desk in her home office. She’d come a long way from the woman who’d blackmailed Fee to decorating her house and opening her doors for Cash and Stretch’s wedding. “You’re now equal partners of Misfit, LLC.”

  Fee drew in a deep breath and penned her name with a flourish. She had another announcement to make, but she’d wait until the end of the ceremony. Their families were in attendance. Meggie, Zoann, and Bailey had cooked a shitload of food that was set out on folding tables in the room, since everything would take place here.

  Stretch set his pen aside. “Done.”

  “Everyone happy and satisfied with the terms?” Josh called, munching on fried pickles.

  “Fine time for you to ask,” Cash grumbled, laying his pen down.

  “Be nice, son,” Jocelyn admonished, making the tips of Cash’s ears go red.

  “Can you move in with us, Jocelyn?” Stretch asked. “Keep Cash in line.”

  Georgie scoffed. “Nothing keeps my brother in line.”

  “Can we fuckin’ get on with the weddin’?” Christopher asked.

  “I’m with Christopher,” Johnnie inserted. “The sooner the marriage takes place, the sooner we can drink and smoke.”

  Father Wilkins cleared his throat as Fee got to her feet. She stopped herself from pressing her hand to her belly. That would be theatrics at this point since her pregnancy was so new. It would also give her away.

  “Are you two ready?” the priest asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Cash said. “I can’t believe I’m doing this shit.”

  Fee couldn’t either and she had to stop herself from falling into peals of laughter at the irritation on Cash’s face.

  “It won’t be so bad, my love,” she promised.

  “Whatever. Come on, Woo Woo,” Cash said in the same tone he’d spoken in for the past five minutes. “Ready to make an honest man of me?”

  “You’ll be making the honest man of me, asshole,” Stretch retorted, as handsome as Cash in his tuxedo with the royal blue bow ties that matched Fee’s dress.

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed Stretch and then Cash. “You’re making honest men of each other.”

  Over the past days, they’d reached a lot of decisions and compromises. While Fee had always wanted to be married, what she wanted most of all was love, and she’d found it with two handsome, loving men.

  Two men who’d been in a relationship before she’d come along, just as she’d said. She loved them too much to deny them this. Their company would tie the three of them together legally. The baby she carried would give her ties to whoever it belonged to, since they’d reached the mutual decision that it belonged to the three of them. Cash had been at Stretch’s side through thick and thin and Stretch had loved Cash long before Fee came along.

  “Got the rings, Fee?” Cash asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s get to it, please,” Father Wilkins said briskly. He was attired in a similar fashion as he’d been at Digger’s wedding.

  He’d balked the loudest, but Fee was realizing that the club could get him to agree to anything if the price was right.

  “I have music,” Meggie announced, holding up her phone.

  “Fuck music, Meggie girl, as long as you got my drink,” Mort said.

  “Look, fuckheads,” Cash snapped. “I want some fucking class at my wedding.”

  “Stretch,” Georgie started, “since your mother wouldn’t have come even if she’d been invited, we decided I’ll walk you to Cash and give you away, since your husband-to-be wouldn’t let Jocelyn do it.”

  “That’s my mother,” Cash said.

  Christopher tipped his flask back. “Your ass sound like my boy, assfuck.”

  “Where do you think I got that from?”

  “I miss lil’ dude,” Digger said. “Let’s get him from the nursery so he can join us.”

  “After the ceremony,” Meggie said.

  “Come on, you two. I have something to say,” Fee said, “As soon as you’re pronounced husbands.”

  “Lemme guess,” Christopher said with sarcasm. “You knocked up.”

  Fee frowned. “How’d you guess.”

  Christopher scowled. “Cuz you got a pussy and they got dicks and this a baby factory ‘round this motherfucker.”

  “You are, Fee?” Stretch whispered, his eyes wide.

  She nodded, glaring at her brother for ruining her announcement.

  “While motherfuckers blabbin’ shit, I gotta say something,” Christopher said, nodding to Meggie, who grinned and stepped next to him. He pulled out a piece of paper along with a photograph and handed it to her.

  Meggie came to Fee and handed her what turned out to be a deed to land and a photo of the very clearing Fee had been coveting the day she and Kendall first went to naked yoga. Her, Cash, and Str
etch’s names were listed as owners. “This is our wedding present to you, Fee. For your house.”

  “Oh my God!” she cried, handing the deed to Cash and hugging Meggie. “Thank you so much.”

  “Ahh, fuck, princess,” Cash said with regret. “I…my savings…it’ll be at least a year or two before we can build.”

  “No, it won’t,” Georgie input. “Sloane and I will have your house built as our wedding present.”

  “No.”

  Cash’s one word fell between everyone like a shard of ice.

  “Fuck no,” he added.

  “If Stretch wasn’t looking forward to marrying you, I’d deck you, asshole,” Josh snapped as Georgie’s face fell.

  “But—”

  “No, Georgiana,” Cash shouted. “You’re not building me a fucking house. That’s past the fucking limit. What the fuck do you think I am?”

  “An ungrateful motherfucker,” Stretch said with exasperation.

  “A dead, ungrateful motherfucker,” Sloane barked. “This gift isn’t up for negotiation. Georgie wants to build you a fucking house. You’re getting the fucking house, McCall. If you ever fucking raise your voice to her again, you’ll also get a fucking spot in the cemetary.”

  Christopher smirked. “See, motherfuckers? I ain’t the only fuckin’ Pyscho Stalker Wildman ‘round this motherfucker.”

  “Fuck off, Sloane,” Cash said. “I can talk to her anyway I damn well please. She’s my sister.”

  Sloane stepped in front of Georgie as if Cash posed an imminent threat to her. “She’s my wife and if you don’t talk to her the way I approve of, I’m going to push your tongue through your cock before I wrap it around your fucking head.”

  “Fuck, Sloane, you come up with some good ass ideas,” Christopher said.

  “Really, motherfucker?” Cash argued.

  Sloane started forward.

  “Wait!” Jocelyn cried, running to her son. “I have an idea.”

  “If it involves Georgie buying me a house, Mom, forget it.”

  “It doesn’t,” she said quickly, then beamed a smile at Fee. “It involves Georgie buying Ophelia the house.”

  “Mother…” Cash began.

  “Hear me out, son. Fee’s having a baby. She shouldn’t have to worry about this project with a small child underfoot, which, according to you, will be when you’re about ready.”

 

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