Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
“Famous last words, my friend,” Connor said with a hard slap to my shoulder. Then the concierge came out and ushered us into her office. The only problem was, we didn’t all fit.
“Why don’t we take this meeting somewhere with a little more room?”
“That would be good,” Mason replied dryly.
She smiled at the enormous bikers trying to squeeze into her tiny office, gathered her things, and politely guided us to a table in the closed off bar.
The meeting went well. By some miracle, they could accommodate us. They’d had a cancellation, so the space rental wasn’t even that much. The booze and food for a hundred bikers would be a pretty penny, but I was prepared for that.
We needed something classy all the way. Claire deserved it. And I wanted to make sure she knew from the get-go that I would take care of her. Spoil her. Pamper her. Love her with every bone in my body and every cent in my pocket for the rest of my goddamn life.
Maybe afterward, too, if I could manage it. Preacher said he had plans to worship Cynthia in the hereafter. That sounded good to me.
I made a deposit, and we all headed out, taking off in our respective rides. I was riding solo today, and since Jaken had finally fixed Lady, I was back in the saddle.
Everything was just about perfect, or it would be after next Saturday. After that, I would have everything I needed. Other than a little baby or two.
Or three . . . or four . . . or five . . .
I grinned, thinking about Jack from the Devil’s Riders down the coast from us. That man had five. Maybe it was six now? Preacher was the one keeping count, although I stayed in touch with the boys from our time helping with the neighborhood watch in Portland too.
I was practically humming as I rode home and parked. Until I spotted Claire’s car in the driveway. She was home early from her interview. I felt a rock drop into my stomach realizing that might not be a good sign.
“Sweetheart?” I called out, suddenly feeling nervous. “Are you in here?”
I heard the toilet flush and the door to the hall bathroom opened. Claire looked miserable. Uh-oh. Definitely not a good sign.
“How was the interview?”
“It was fine. They took me early,” she said, wiping her mouth. “But I got sick on the drive back. And . . . when I got home.”
“Are you okay?” I asked, rushing to stand in front of her. I looked her over, rubbing my hands over her arms. She looked a little pale but just as beautiful as ever. The look in her eyes, though, was pure murder.
And I hadn’t even told her my news yet.
Our news, I reminded myself. She was the bride, after all. Women love weddings, I argued with myself, feeling suddenly very concerned about the conversation we were about to have.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I mean . . .” She glanced off to the side. “I think I’d better take a pregnancy test.”
“A . . . what?” I stared at her in shock before letting out a loud whoop and picking her up off her feet to spin her around.
“Hunter! Oh, my God,” she wailed. I put her down quickly, only to watch in horror as she ran back into the hall bathroom and vomited into the sink.
“Oh, honey, I am so sorry. I just . . .” I watched sheepishly as she rinsed her mouth out and glared at me in the mirror’s reflection. “I got carried away,” I finished lamely.
“It’s okay,” she sighed. “I’m just tired.”
“Well . . . I have news, too,” I said, deciding it was better to rip the Band-Aid off.
“News?” she asked worriedly. “Is everything okay with the Raisers?”
Well, it wasn’t going all that well, but they were listening to me, at least. They were just way too fucking wild to tame in a couple of months. But that wasn’t the news I had to share, obviously.
“I booked a place for the wedding. A really fancy hotel. Everything is going to be taken care of. All you have to do is show up.”
“Oh,” she said, looking surprised and a little bit suspicious. But then she smiled sweetly. “Thank you. I didn’t know you were doing that. I’ve been so focused on finding a job . . .”
“I didn’t want you to have to stress about it. They had a last-minute cancellation, so it worked out perfectly.”
“What do you mean, last-minute?”
The suspicious look was back. We were still standing in the bathroom, and I suddenly knew that this news was not going to go well. I looked around, making sure there were no sharp objects handy.
“I already made a deposit,” I offered warily. She glared at me. She was definitely not fooled.