“Please don’t say ‘ask the Love Pres’,” Gus looks at Tav in horror.
“No! I was going to say, we need Rider. Whatever the fuck he has planned has to be better than what we’ve come up with. I mean, I’ll still give Ana the family photo shoot, but I’m confident Rider has our backs.”
“You sure about that?” I ask, dubious.
“Brother, do you think Marx would let Rider fuck us all over on a special holiday? His woman’s first?”
“Good point,” Tav jabs a finger in Gus’s direction. “I vote we get to him early tomorrow, before any other fucker. We need to know the plan so we can go all out. You do know that this is more than just surprising our women, right?” Both Gus and I stare at Tav. “This is where we show off our Tombs creativity and how superior we are when it comes to loving our women. I mean,shit, Gus, you wooed a Bratva boss! Jules, somehow your cold heart won over that fiery little Latina and I’ve got a woman who should really be classed as a mass murderer. We by far have the most badass women of the lot.”
“I mean, he’s not wrong.” Gus agrees.
“OK,” I reluctantly agree, “first thing tomorrow we get to Rider. We’ll beat the details out of him if need be.”
“Theres the spirit!” Gus says, bouncing up off the couch to slap me again.
“Ha! Operation Tombs’ Kick Valentine's Ass is in motion!” Tav adds as he too gets up to leave.
I watch as they let themselves out, trying not to laugh at the cackle that comes from the kitchen. “Mijo, I’m so glad you’re the one who wooed my daughter. Those two don’t have a clue.”
Turning I take in Miss Flora’s grin as she bounces Juno on her hip. “Where were we?”
“Flowers to beautify this place so you can propose to my baby,” she grins.
“Perfect.”
Chapter 5
Rhodie
Ican’t believe I’ve let those fuckers get to me. Iknowmy woman. I know that when she says something, that’s what she means. So tell me why I’ve been hiding in one of the clubhouse rooms most of the day trawling the internet for gator- inspired baby, daughter and mother shit. And after coming up empty handed I now I have a meeting in town with a seamstress who seems open to making me “bespoke” shit. I let out a long groan as I thump up the two steps to our cabin, opening the door.
“Hi Daddy,” Laney’s cute voice drifts through the room, causing my chest to flutter just a little. Like it always does when she calls me “Daddy.”
Kicking off my boots I let the door swing closed behind me as I look for my daughter. She’s often in the same place, on the little rug in front of her bookcase, but sometimes she likes a littleprivacy, much like her momma. Looking around the room I spot the little lump behind the drapes. Moving closer I take a seat on the floor next to her, and marvel how she may not be ours by blood, but everything about her is so much like me and Chewy that it’s shocking.
“Hey baby, how did you know it was me?”
“Your boots go bump, bump-bahbump-bump.”
I grin as I move a little closer, curling my legs around her little body on the other side of the curtain. She leans in a little before whipping the fabric back and greeting me with a wide grin. She gently climbs onto my lap, resting her little cheek on the worn leather on my chest.
“I missed you today,” I tell her gently. “What have you been doing?”
“Learnin’,” she says, patting my arm gently.
“Yeah? What about?”
“About Saint Balentine. He makes people romantic,” she says this in a high pitched voice and I just know it’s the same voice Chewy would have used.
“That’s right, baby. It’s in a few days. All the men are planning surprises for all the Ol Ladies.”
“What kind of ‘prises?”
“Knowing your uncles, they probably won't be good.” I snort. “Shall we go find momma?”
“She’s practicing.” Laney says very seriously.
“Practicing what, baby?” I ask, standing with her in my arms.
