“Thanks, Mummy.”
“We haven’t told Dad yet,” Devon said, “so do you mind keeping this under wraps until we do?”
I nodded. “Of course, darling.”
“You’ve got until family night,” Hatch countered.
“Which is in four hours,” Devon said.
“You can tell time. Good job,” Hatch deadpanned.
“You knew he’d do this, honey,” Poppy said with a giggle. “You were only off by an hour.”
“True.” Devon shook his head. “I thought for sure you’d give us five to fill Dad in.”
I settled my palm on Hatch’s chest. “I think he can give you that hour, right, love?”
“No promises,” he grumbled, and I grinned.
“You’ve got five hours,” I countered.
“Perfect,” Poppy said. “But for now, it’s Maisie Day, and I’m ready for some Mummy time.”
“I’m gonna drop the boys off at Hawk’s then head to the shop,” Hatch said.
“Meet up at the club?”
“No, I’ll swing by here and pick you up.”
I smiled. “Okay, darling, I’ll see you in a few.”
I kissed him, then took our daughter to the spa.
* * *
“Jesus, you need tochange,” Hatch growled as I walked into the great room.
I frowned and glanced down my body. I wore skinny jeans, black peep-toe booties and a V-neck Harley T-shirt. I’d taken care with my light blonde hair, newly blown out this morning, and made my makeup minimal but sexy, complete with a kickass smoky eye. “Why?”
He pushed off the sofa and dropped the remote on the coffee table. “Because you’re too fuckin’ sexy for your own good.”
I rolled my eyes. “Like you’re one to talk.”
He wore dark jeans, motorcycle boots, and his cut over a tight, black ribbed Henley.
“No chance of some new recruit wantin’ to fuck me, Sunshine, so I don’t count.”
I snorted. “Honey, I’m going to be a grandmother. No new recruit’s going to want to fuck me either.”
“Bullshit,” he countered, wrapping his arms around me and sliding his hands to my bum. “I’m not the only one who’ll be imagining your clothes on the floor and your legs spread—”
I covered his mouth with my hand. “It took me a good five minutes to paint these jeans on and it’s going to take a while to get them off, so stow that talk for when I don’t need to get them back on.”
He grinned, kissing me quickly. “If one of these pups comes at you—”
“I’ll politely tell them I’m owned by the President,” I said. “That usually shuts them down.”
“Usually?” he hissed. “How many times has it happened?”
