“Darlin, you will never deny me.” He winks.
I want to be annoyed and argue with him. It’s in my nature after all, but he’s right. Even angry sex with him is out of this world. I can’t help it; I’m obsessed with him. Just as he is with me.
“Right, this is all lovely, but are we heading down to the club? We all need to know who is bringing what to the cabin and presents, etc.,” Queenie says, clicking her fingers.
“Yes, yes. Come on, let’s go,” I agree.
“Well then, what was the point in Queenie bringing the kids here if we are all meeting at the fucking club?” Ghost asks.
I grab my coat. “Because I wanted to switch the lights on for the kids before we headed down to the club. However, because the tree now isn’t finished, it will have to wait,” I point out.
“Tree!” Storm claps excitedly. I smirk, because I know he will fold.
He huffs, walking over to me and placing Storm in my arms. I kiss her cheek and watch as Ghost puts the ladder back up and climbs to the top, reaching over and putting the star on top. He swiftly climbs back down and walks to the socket, switching on the lights.
“Yay!” Storm cheers in my arms.
I look down at Enzo and smile, seeing the joy on his face. I run my fingers through his hair. “You like it, buddy?” I ask.
He nods, grinning. “We have the best tree.”
“We sure do. Although, I think the one at the club that you and the others decorated is just as beautiful, if not better.” He looks up at me with a proud look on his face. I swear, if any girl breaks his heart, I will cut the bitch.
“Come on, let’s head down to the club and see what kind of fucking crazy shit is going on,” Ghost says, placing his firm hand on the back of my neck before leading us outside.
We load the kids into the truck, with Queenie following behind us in her car. The whole ride over, Ghost rests his hand possessively on my thigh, his thumb lazily stroking back and forth.
“Bluey!” Storm yells from her seat in the back.
“No! Not Bluey. Play Limp Bizkit,” Enzo counters.
“No! Bluey!” Storm argues.
“I’m older than you and the second man of this family. I am the boss,” Enzo snaps.
“Enzo,” I warn.
“What? Dad said I am,” Enzo argues back.
“What I said was you have a duty to be the man of the house when I am not around, but that doesn’t mean bossing your sister about. It means you look after her and protect her, just like I’m sure she will protect you. Just like her mother does for all of us,” he states, giving me a side glance.
I turn and look at Enzo, who huffs and crosses his arms. He even broods like his father.
The rest of the drive continues without any more arguments. Never thought I would say we have a playlist that has Limp Bizkit and Bluey on. I don’t think Ghost ever thought he would have either.
CHAPTER TWO
STAR
Once back at the club,we park up. Amongst the bikes, there is now a sea of trucks parked due to most of us needing the space for our kids. You won’t catch any of them with a minivan. They ain’t soccer moms.
A deep loud “Whoof!” as Erebus, Rage’s dog, comes trotting out to greet us, his big paws plodding along the gravel.
Storm runs to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him. He turns, licking her face, making her laugh. For a dog that looks terrifying, he is such a softie with the kids.
“Erebus!” Rage barks. The dog immediately stops and turns, trotting back over to Rage.
“What is it they say? Dogs look like their owners,” I mutter to Ghost. He grunts in agreement.
