Maybe it’s because Camille has taken such great care of him, I muse to myself. I put her in his room, and in charge of his care for a reason.
I needed a place for her that was away from the other women and children, because unlike them, she wasn’t being taken anywhere.
Secondly, I needed him to get better and none of us had the time to help him when we were trying to get the fucking Martels taken care of.
“We’re here to vote on Coda. If he’s in or out. His time of prospecting has come to an end,” Snake announces.
I can practically feel Coda’s gaze on the back of my neck. Usually we don’t allow the person in the room when we vote, only once they’re in. But we’ve already all agreed that Coda is in the club.
“Can I say something before you vote?” Coda asks.
The room stays quiet, except for Snake. He shakes his head. “No, shut the fuck up and stand there,” he rumbles, his voice deep and thick.
“All in favor of Coda being initiated into the Notorious Devils?” Snake calls out.
Every single brother calls out, aye. It’s a resounding noise, bouncing off of the walls around us, and I can’t help but grin when I hear it. They would have said no if I told them to, if I said that he wasn’t acceptable, considering it was Lea he was supposed to be guarding and she was almost taken.
“All against adding Coda into the brotherhood?” Snake asks.
The room goes deathly quiet and that’s when I turn around to face him, as do the rest of the Notorious Devils. He’s standing near the door, his eyes wide and his mouth opened slightly in surprise.
“Welcome to the Notorious Devils,” Free rumbles.
We all line up, every single one of us shaking his hand and slapping him on the back before we leave the room. This was our only purpose today and now our meeting is over. We’re all still fucking beat from the women, children, police, and Martels. Fucking shit, it’s been a long few days.
Shoving my hand toward him, Coda grabs onto me. Reaching forward, I slap his shoulder with my other hand, hugging him briefly. He tugs me a bit closer, his free hand slamming against my back.
“Thank you, I’ll never let you down, not fucking ever,” he murmurs just loud enough for me to hear.
“I know you won’t,” I agree, releasing him as I take a step back.
Nothing else is said between us, instead, I walk out of the room. My eyes scan the area and that’s when I see Lea sitting with Camille.
My lips twitch at the sight of my woman. She’s got another tank on, part of the strap covers my mark, but it’s still there, still on display for the world to know who she belongs to.
“You ready, Tiny?” I ask as I make my way up to their table.
Lea tips her head back, her eyes finding mine and a small smile playing on her lips. “Yeah,” she breathes.
Holding out my hand, I wait with it palm up. Luckily, I don’t have to wait long, her hand slips into my waiting palm and I gently tug her up to standing. She dips her chin, her eyes focused on Camille.
“When I get back, we’ll have a drink,” Lea offers.
Camille’s face tints pink and she nods once. “Yeah,” she breathes.
Sliding my hand to the small of Lea’s back, I guide her away from the table and toward the bar’s exit. Once we’re outside and standing in front of my bike, I turn to her.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“Camille?”
I nod, waiting for her to continue. Lea only shrugs, so I stay with my gaze directed toward her, waiting to see when she’ll answer me. Lea sighs then looks from the bar to me.
“She’s just scared. Doesn’t know what to expect. She’s afraid she’ll be hurt there with all those men and she’s worried about her brother,” she explains.
“I’ll talk to Snake,” I respond.
“About?”
I shake my head once, not wanting to go into detail. Then keeping my gaze on hers, I sigh and lift my hand, running my fingers through my hair.
“Her brother will be fine. Once his background is cleared, he’ll be prospecting for the club. The trailer behind the Cash Bar has been empty for a while. You won’t be living there, so there’s no reason why she can’t. Plus, they always need waitresses in the bar and it will give her something to do,” I explain.
Lea’s lips tremble, her eyes stay glued to mine, that is, until she lifts her arms and slides her hands around my neck, her fingers twisting in my hair. I keep my gaze on hers, completely focused, uncaring if the rest of the world fucking ends around us.
Dipping my chin, Lea rises to her toes and our mouths meet in the middle. I slide the tip of my tongue along the seam of her lips. She whimpers as her mouth parts and I dive inside of her, tasting her with my tongue.
The kiss doesn’t last long, just a few swipes of my tongue inside of her mouth, I slowly break it, nibbling on her bottom lip for a moment before I do.
“What’s that about?” I ask on a rasp.
She hums. “You’re good. The Devils are good.”
Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around the front of her throat, my eyes never leaving hers. “We ain’t, babe,” I point out.
Her lips twitch into a grin. “You are. It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it, I know that you’re good, inside out, Mitch.”
Shaking my head, I squeeze her throat once before I release it and take a step back. “Let’s go see your parents,” I grunt.
She doesn’t say anything else. Climbing on the back of my bike, she wraps her arms around my middle in silence. I hold back the groan from her warmth as it surrounds me from behind. Turning my bike toward the exit, I roar out of the parking lot and toward town, toward Gracie and Skinner’s.
LEA
My mom’s house comes into view and for whatever reason, I’m filled with nervous butterflies. I don’t know why, I shouldn’t be nervous at all. This is my mom, this is the home that I called my own, my entire life.
The door opens, and I see Skinner standing there, his gaze focused on us. His expression is blank as his gaze skirts over Baby, but when it lands on me, I watch as his lips tip up into a small genuine smile.
Once we’re both off of the bike and standing next to one another, I reach out and lace my fingers with Baby’s before we begin to walk toward Skinner. His eyes flick down to our fingers and his lips turn down into a frown.
“Hey,” I call out when we’re close enough that I don’t have to yell across the yard.
He grunts, his eyes moving from our joined hands to my face. “Your mom’s just finishing up, come on inside,” he murmurs, opening the door wide.
He doesn’t move, which forces me to drop Baby’s hand and we have to walk single-file into the house. I almost laugh when Baby grunts as he passes Skinner.
Once I’m inside, my feet pause. It smells like home, and not just because this house has always just smelled a certain way, but because my mom is cooking my favorite meal.
Without looking back at Skinner and Baby, I hurry through the house and into the kitchen. My mom’s there, standing at the stove, her back to me. She must sense my presence, because she slowly turns around to face me.
“You’re okay,” she breathes.
“I’m okay,” I agree.
Her arms envelop me in a hug. This one feels so different from even the one she gave me yesterday, or any other day.
This one is just, warm.
It’s home.
Right now, I don’t feel like Lea, the girl who has been fighting for her life against the Martels. I’m not Baby’s Old Lady. I’m just Lea, standing with my mom in the kitchen.
“You’re happy? Truly? Now that the dust has settled a little, you’re good?” she asks, her words rambling slightly.
Taking a step back, my lips curve into a big smile. “It may not have started out as the fairy tale that I imagined when I was thirteen-years-old but, Mom.” I grin. She matches my smile with one of her own. “It’s my dream. He’s what I always imagined he’d be, we
just had a few bumps.”
“And you will assuredly have more,” she whispers.
I watch as she wipes the corners of her eyes where tears have formed, and she clears her throat. “I need to get back to dinner,” she announces.
“Tiny?” Baby’s voice calls out before he appears in the kitchen.
Turning around, I freeze at the sight in front of me. His nose is bleeding, his cheek is red and one of his eyes is beginning to swell.
“Need ice, babe,” he grumbles as he sinks down in the chair at the small kitchen table.
“Oh my,” my mom breathes.
“Did Skinner do that to you?” I ask, unmoving.
“Tiny, ice,” he grunts.
Ignoring his request, I begin to march out of the kitchen but am forced to stop when Baby’s fingers wrap around my wrist to stop my movements. Turning to him, I narrow my eyes at him, annoyed that he’s stopped me.
“I deserved a hell of a lot more. Let it go, Lea. It’s a guy thing,” he murmurs.
“He hit you,” I point out.
He tugs me toward him and I fall down, my ass landing in his lap. Turning slightly, I look into his blue eyes, trying and failing not to get lost in their gaze.
He slides his hand up the center of my chest, his fingers wrapping around the front of my throat in a way that I know I will never get tired of him doing, not ever.
“It’s fine. Please, let it go, Tiny. It was between us and now it’s handled and done. Let’s have a good family dinner, one of many, yeah?”
Frowning, I lift my eyes over his shoulder to see Skinner, standing there, his eyes not on me, but instead my mom’s ass. I wrinkle my nose but notice that he has not one mark on him.
“You let him, didn’t you?”
“Club shit, babe.”
Sighing, I roll my eyes. “God, you’re lucky I love you so much, and him too,” I breathe.
“Yeah,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m the luckiest fucker on earth. Can I get some ice now?” he rasps, his lips brushing mine.
“I guess,” I sigh.
He releases me and I slide off of his lap, walking to the freezer. Tugging the door open, I wrap my fingers around an ice pack, pulling it out before I close it. When I do, Skinner is standing right next to me, his eyes searching my own.
“Club shit,” I mumble.
“Yeah, but Dad shit mostly.”
Lifting my gaze to his, I notice that he looks worried as he watches me. “I love you, Skinner. Thank you for being a dad when I made it really fucking hard.”
His lips twitch as his arms reach out and he tugs me against his chest. His lips touch the top of my head.
“Love you, Lea.”
“Love you too, Skin.”
He releases me, turning away, I take a step before I look back at him over my shoulder. “Thanks for not killing my man.” I grin.
He narrows his eyes, then winks. “It was hard, but the fucker makes you happy.”
“He does,” I agree.
Without another word, I make my way over to Baby and I sink down in his lap again. Lifting the ice pack, I press it against his swollen eye, and he hisses when it touches his skin.
One of his hands wraps around my hip and a few minutes later my younger siblings fill the room and the noise level ratchets up about fifteen levels.
This is my family.
This is my life.
I couldn’t dream of anything better.
EPILOGUE
BABY
ONE MONTH LATER
If you didn’t know, you couldn’t tell. I keep my gaze focused on my woman as she makes her way toward me, her arm hooked with Skinner’s, a bouquet of black roses in her hand.
That bouquet hides the small swell of her stomach. It hides the evidence that she is carrying my baby.
Standing in my best blue jeans, which really aren’t all that fucking great considering they are worn, old and comfortable. They are just the only pair I own that don’t have holes in the knees and thighs.
I did put on a button-down black shirt that was purchased just for this occasion beneath my worn cut, if that makes this shit any better.
Lea’s eyes meet mine as soon as she is close enough. Skinner is walking deliberately fucking slow toward me, a shit-eating grin on his own face. Fuck him. Deciding I’ve had enough, I march toward them only to hear several gasps in the audience.
My eyes are focused on Lea, her smile widening the closer I approach. “Mitchell,” she giggles.
“Baby,” Skinner growls.
“Fuck off,” I snap as I reach for her hand and gently pull her toward me.
He releases her with a sigh, meanwhile I hear Gracie let out a hiccough somewhere in the front row of the audience.
Wrapping my hand around hers, I drag her toward the front of the aisle. There’s a judge standing at the front of the rows of chairs.
We’re in the clubhouse parking lot, facing the clubhouse bar door. Probably not what most people would consider a romantic wedding. But this is what my woman wanted. She wanted to be around her friends, around her family and at her home.
There’s a wooden arbor thing set up, dripping with white flowers, a stark contrast to the black roses that she’s carrying, along with the all-black lace dress she has on her slight frame. My woman is beautifully unique and I can’t wait to make this shit fucking legal.
Once we’re in front of the judge, I dip my chin in an effort for him to hurry the fuck up. The ceremony doesn’t last long, maybe ten minutes. We didn’t write our own vows, Lea knows me well enough to know that I wouldn’t do that shit, not in front of an audience.
“You may kiss the bride,” the judge announces.
Turning toward her, I lift my hand, wrapping my fingers around the back of her slim neck and slant my head to the side.
Pressing my lips against hers, I coax her mouth open and plunge my tongue deep inside of her, tasting her, mine.
My wife.
The entire audience begins to call out, wolf whistle, hoot and holler. Releasing her, we turn around to face them. My smile cannot be contained, my lips turn up into a big fucking grin when the judge calls out as we begin to walk down the aisle.
“May I present Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell Lefebvre.”
My chest swells with pride as we walk past all of our friends and family as husband and wife. We stop at the back, the crowd’s gaze focused on our back. Lea turns to me, throwing her arms around my neck and presses her lips to my own.
I’m taken aback, only slightly, then deepen the kiss as everyone cheers for us. Music begins to fill the space, it’s rock, naturally, but I can’t tell the song because I’m so fucking in love with my wife.
She nibbles my bottom lip, slowly breaking the kiss. Her bouquet smashes between us as she presses against me. Lifting my hand, I wrap it around the front of her throat, feeling her pounding pulse beneath my fingertips.
“My wife,” I whisper.
Her lips form a small smile. “Husband,” she breathes. “My very own fairy tale come to life.”
“Fuck,” I hiss. “I want to fuck you right here.”
She laughs softly, then drops her bouquet and slides her hand up the center of my chest until her hand is wrapped around the side of my throat and I grunt as her fingers tighten their hold against me.
“I love you, Mitchell. Thank you for making all of my dreams come true,” she breathes.
“Stop talking,” I state, squeezing her throat slightly.
She doesn’t do what I tell her to, instead she continues to talk, the music drowning out the other people’s voices behind us. They don’t matter, they never did. The only thing that means any damn thing to me is standing right here, her tits and rounded belly pressed against my chest.
“Okay, I will, but…” she says, something wicked in her pretty eyes. I wait, bracing myself for whatever she’s about to say. “I just wanted to tell you that even in my wildest teenage dreams, I never thought that you would be this fucking perfect for me,
that you would give me everything that you have. That you would truly love me.”
“Stop fucking talking,” I grind out, my hand tightening again on her throat before I release it and slide it around the back of her neck.
Lowering my head, I place my forehead against her own and close my eyes as I let out an exhale. “I love you, Lea. As fucking cheesy and pussified as it is, you are the only woman I have ever loved. You make this world bearable. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Pressing my mouth against hers, I don’t deepen the kiss before I take a step back. Lacing my fingers with hers, I turn us around to face all of our family and friends. They are beginning to mingle, the food tables overflowing with appetizers, the music blasting, kids running around and getting dirty.
“This was exactly how I always pictured marrying you, Mitch,” Lea whispers from next to me. Tilting my head down, I look over at her, arching a brow in question. “Complete chaos.” She smiles.
“Probably gonna be absolute fuckin’ chaos until the day we die, Tiny,” I point out.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she breathes.
“Me either,” I agree.
LEA
I watch him across the bar. The wedding has been moved inside. The food and cake consumed, the children gone and the party beginning.
Baby is standing at the bar with his brothers, shot glasses lined up and I have a feeling that I’ll be driving home tonight, or what will most likely occur is that we’ll spend the night here in his room before we take off for our honeymoon tomorrow.
An arm is flung around my neck and I don’t even have to look to my side to know who it is. Keeping my eyes on my husband, the word still feeling foreign, yet filling me with giddy butterflies.
“Coda,” I murmur.
“You happy, finally?” he asks.
He’s been busy, nowhere to be seen lately and I’m kind of surprised that he’s made it to the wedding. I honestly didn’t know if he’d show. He’s not only been scarce, he’s kind of been avoiding me since our incident with Martel’s hired kidnapper.
Mixed with Trouble: A CASH BAR NOVEL Page 23