by Deja Voss
“Congratulations, my love, but I’m working right now.”
He pulls a cigar out of his pocket and puts it to his lips, flicking open his zippo.
“Since when are you a cigar person?” I ask, throwing the window open.
“I thought maybe we could go grab some sushi, then maybe go get those matching tattoos we were talking about? We can hit up Kennywood when we’re done? Make a whole ass night of it?”
He can’t even keep a straight face and he turns bright red, the unlit cigar dangling from his lips.
“What the fuck, Lean?!” I shout, charging at him. “Are you spying on me?”
“You need to find a better hiding spot for your pee sticks.”
“Pee sticks, God you’re romantic.”
“Hey, you’re the weirdo who put them in the bottom of my toolbox. You try explaining that shit to the guys when somebody asks you to hand them a screwdriver.”
“That toolbox has not moved from the shelf since the day I met you, Lean. Goddammit,” I say. “Let me guess, now everybody knows.”
“I didn’t tell a damn soul,” he says, pulling me into him. “Truth is, that thing hasn’t left the shelf since the day I met you. I was planning on hiding something in there myself when I found your little surprise.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask.
“You want me to get down on one knee?” he whispers in my ear, his breath hot on my neck. It sends a chill down my spine. I don’t know if I want to cry or rip his clothes off right now.
“Oh you’re gonna be spending plenty of time on your knees tonight, mister,” I say.
He raises his eyebrows and presses his lips to mine, hugging me tight. I’m not afraid anymore. Of anything. This next chapter of our lives is going to be amazing.
“Hold that thought,” I say, as the buzzer on the front door starts to go off. It’s true, even in the middle of a proposal and a pregnancy announcement, as long as I am in my office, work comes first. These women come first.
The delivery driver hurriedly hands me a box. It’s definitely way too small to be the cots I ordered for the shelter, but it’s super heavy.
“Lean…” I shriek, tossing the box to the ground as it begins to leak on me.
He comes running in the room, and pulls out his bowie knife, cutting the tape from it.
“Mani… go call my dad,” he says, with an urgency in his voice I haven’t heard in a long time. I try to look in the box but he crouches over it so I can’t see what’s inside. “I’m not kidding. Go outside and call my father and wait out there until he gets there.”
I run out the door, my mind racing in a million directions and pick up the phone, dialing Bruiser’s number. I can hear Lean’s anguished sobs from inside, and I don’t know if I should listen to him, or run to his side. Whatever’s in that box set him off more than anything I’ve ever seen before.
Bruiser’s phone goes straight to voicemail. I try a hundred more times, until finally, I can’t take it anymore. I need to know what’s got Lean so upset.
I pry open the door, bracing myself for the worst.
To be continued… in 2021
Acknowledgments
I want to take a moment and briefly thank everyone who made this book possible. To my awesome PA Kristin who advocated for me, even when I was a huge bum. To Crimson Syn for creating this amazing world and letting me play in it. To the readers who took a chance on me and encouraged me to keep doing this thing I fell in love with when I was just a kid.
I always want to thank my husband because although he might not understand the first thing about writing a book or being an author, he’s always here to humor me, even when I turn into deadline rage bitch. He’s my Lean, my Gavin, my Tank, my Brooks, my Judas, my Driller all wrapped up into the guy who has tolerated me for the last 12 years.
About the Author
To keep up to date on my future releases and get a peek behind the curtain, the best place to find me is via my weekly (and sometimes twice) newsletter!
https://mailchi.mp/dejavoss/clutch - Clutch - from my first series, the Mountain Misfits MC!
