The truck comes to a stop and I look around in confusion. We aren’t at a car dealership. Max doesn’t say anything as he ambles out of the pickup and then comes to my side to help me out. We walk, hand-in-hand, into a jewelry store.
“Max,” I whisper.
“We’re getting married, and we’re doing it before this baby gets here. So today, you’re pickin’ out a ring,” he grumbles, like this is the last place he wants to be. Though, I can see the spark of excitement in his blue eyes that tells a different tale.
“How may I help you?” the girl asks as her eyes lock in and stay focused on Max’s cut.
She balls her fists together, and I see that her knuckles turn white. I don’t know if she’s scared or angry, but her facial expression doesn’t change one bit. Damn, she’s a good actress.
“Here for a wedding ring. Whatever she wants,” he murmurs, softening his voice, obviously understanding this girl’s reaction as one of fear.
She looks over to me and gives me a shaky smile. She’s around my age, pretty, with dark red hair that falls to just below her shoulders. Her big green eyes are wide with worry, but she tries to stay smiling anyway. I shake my head once.
“What do you have in mind?” she asks.
“Nothing too fancy, just something simple,” I say.
I have no idea what I want, I’ve never even given a single thought to a wedding ring in my entire life.
“Our engagement rings are over here. Let’s start there,” she offers, walking over to a case.
Max and I follow, and I look down at all the rings. They sparkle in that way that only new diamonds can. I know that once they’re out of the case and on someone’s finger, the shine will dull, dirt and grime will get between the grooves, and they’ll be worn and nothing like they are now. Much like people who enter a relationship; much like me and Max. We’re two people who aren’t shiny and new, two people who have been through something and seen some shit.
“How about something like this?” she asks, pulling out a ring with the smallest diamond I think in the world.
“There’s no budget,” Max announces.
The poor girl jumps slightly before she nervously puts the tiny ring back. I look around and see a gorgeous vintage looking ring. It’s white gold and has an intertwining design of diamonds around the entire band. There is no big stone, it’s just tiny little diamonds, but a lot of them, and they’re all the way around. That’s it. I tell the girl I want to see it and she pulls it out.
“Put it on,” Max grumbles.
I slide it on my finger and he picks up my hand to look at it. When he lifts his eyes and they connect with mine, they’re smiling, even if his lips aren’t, and he nods once.
“Ring it up,” he says.
“Sir, this ring is forty-five thousand dollars,” she whispers with worry etching her features.
“Ring. It. Up,” he growls, leaning forward.
I watch as she jumps and then takes the ring from me and hurries over to a computer.
“You’re scaring her,” I hiss.
“I don’t mean to. She looks familiar as fuck, though, and I can’t place her,” he murmurs.
“The club?” I ask, arching a brow.
“Fuck, no,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “She looks like she’s about to piss herself with just me here. I can’t imagine her at the clubhouse with all of the brothers there.”
I nod my head in agreement. She’s adorable, gorgeous, and it makes me wonder if maybe, just maybe one of the guys hit on her and scared her once. Hell, I don’t know. Then she looks back at me with wide eyes before she turns around and finishes up.
“This is your total here, including tax,” she murmurs as she slips the piece of paper toward Max. He glances at it for a second before tossing a credit card on top.
“I’m sorry, but you look really familiar. Can you tell me your name? I’m better with names than faces,” I say sweetly. Max grunts next to me.
It’s going to bug the crap out of me if he can’t figure out who she is, mainly because I think it’ll bother him and he’ll talk about it and try to figure it out. Her reaction is so telling that I know she knows him, or at least knows a Devil.
“I don’t think we’ve met before,” she mutters as she runs Max’s card.
“I’m Mary-Anne,” I announce with a smile.
She watches me as she brings the receipt for Max to sign and then she glances at him before turning back to me, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Cleo, my name is Cleo,” she practically whispers.
“Oh, well, yeah I don’t recognize your name. I know I wouldn’t forget that at all. It’s a kick ass name,” I say with a big, hopefully warm, smile.
“All of your paperwork and the ring are in the bag,” she stutters before shakily handing Max the bag.
He takes it from her, all while looking at her with confusion. I thank her and tug him with me outside, waiting until we get out of view of the store before I stop.
“What the hell just happened in there?” I ask.
Max looks down at me, shakes his head once, then speaks.
“That’s who the fuck we been lookin’ for,” I announce before I pull out my phone to call Torch.
“What?” Mary whispers next to me.
I ignore her and scroll through my contacts to find his name before I press send.
“Prez,” he slurs.
He’s been drowning himself in booze since he left my house last night. Hasn’t eaten and hasn’t slept. He’s been sitting in a chair, with his phone in one hand and a drink in the other.
“I found her,” I announce. He stays silent for a beat and then he sighs.
“Dead?” he asks on a whisper.
“At work. Didn’t you check her job?” I ask in irritation.
“What?” he cries. “Of course I checked her job, she’s a receptionist at an attorney’s office in Sacramento.”
“Wrong, she’s working at a jewelry store, here. I just fuckin’ left there. Dark red hair, big green eyes, bangin’ fuckin’ bod, and her name is Cleo.” I grunt when Mary’s hand slaps across my gut when I say Cleo had a bangin’ bod.
“Don’t let her out of your sight. I’ll be there in five,” he says before I hear a chair fall down in the background.
“You’ll have Camo drive you,” I say, informing him that West will be driving a cage. He growls. “West’ll drive you and that’s a fuckin’ order.”
“Fine,” he clips before he ends the call. I send a text to Camo with the orders, and then I look down at Mary who has her pretty blue eyes narrowed on me.
“She does have a bangin’ bod. I was checking her out, too,” she grinds out. I can’t help but to laugh as I pull her into my chest.
“Love you, sweetness,” I whisper against the top of her head.
“Yeah, I love you, too,” she says, tipping her head back with a smile.
We wait for Camo and Torch to pull up, and when they do, I cringe as Torch stumbles out of the pickup.
“Shit, he’s tanked,” Mary whispers, looking over her shoulder at him.
“Yeah,” I grunt. “You goin’ in?” I call out. Torch lifts his chin.
“Gonna fuckin’ wait by her goddamn car. You guys go ahead,” he mutters as he stumbles toward a piece of shit black Jeep Cherokee in the parking lot.
“You watch, make sure he doesn’t do anything fucking crazy,” I command, pointing at Camo.
“Sure thing,” he nods, turning to Torch and watching him with a look of worry on his face.
“Hey, West,” Mary says with a wave.
“Hey,” he smiles.
“Tell Ivy hi for me,” she calls out as I grab her hand and tug her behind me.
We have places to be, and those places don’t include standing around and watching these fuckin’ idiots under me try and get their shit together. I pull out my phone and make another call.
“Mr. MadDog,” Kirill says in my ear. I roll my eyes. Fuckin’ Ruskie.
“We found her,” I say as I start the engine of the truck.
“Alive?” he asks.
“At work, or where she’s workin’ today. I don’t know the details. Torch is there now, but she looks healthy and she’s definitely alive,” I mutter.
“So maybe she’s just running from him,” he mutters, almost as though he’s in thought.
“Appears to be so. Her face turned about as white as a sheet the second her eyes locked in on my patch.”
“He’s got a war to win with that one then. Let me know how it plays out,” he chuckles before he ends the call.
I don’t ask him how he knows that Torch has a fight on his hands, or even question his desire to know the outcome of the pair. I just shove my phone in my pocket, thankful as fuck that this isn’t what I thought it was.
I have no doubt that a war is coming, but I didn’t want it yet. I wanted some peace, some time with my woman and my new baby before I was thrust into the middle of it.
I pull into the car lot and look around, seeing what I think Mary would like, and seeing what I know I’m going to actually buy right off the bat.
I’m right about what I think she’ll like when she walks over to a small sedan. It’s red, and miniscule, and so fucking unsafe, it’s ridiculous. She’s yet to live a winter here, but it’s coming, I can already feel the crispness in the air with the change of weather. Soon, snow will be upon us, and that piece of shit will slide off of a mountain in about two seconds flat.
I take her hand and gently tug her toward the SUV with four-wheel drive.
“It’s a tank,” she whispers.
“It’ll protect you in an accident, and it won’t fall down a hill in the snow because you took a corner too fast,” I say.
“He’s right, little lady,” the salesman says as he walks over to us. Her nose wrinkles at the little lady bit, and I can’t help but to chuckle. “Your daddy knows what he’s talkin’ about,” he says. I watch as Mary’s eyes widen before a scheming look crosses her face.
“Oh, my daddy knows exactly what he’s talking about,” she whispers before she curls in close to my side.
The salesman looks from her to me, then back down to her again as she lifts to her toes and presses her lips against mine. Then she slides her tongue into my mouth and I can’t help but moan at her sweet taste.
“Don’t you, daddy?” she whispers against my lips when she’s finished making her point.
I grunt before I lightly smack her ass and then we leave, the salesman looking after us with a mix of shock and disgust marring his features. Fuck, she made a spectacle, and now my cock is hard, and there’s only one cure for that—her smart mouth wrapped around it.
I giggle as my eyes catch a glimpse of the midnight blue SUV that now sits on the curb in front of our home. I remember how a few days ago we went shopping for it, and how the salesman thought Max was my daddy.
Obviously, I had fun, kissing him with tongue in front of the man. It probably wasn’t the most mature thing in the world, but it was fun. Then, Max took me home and we had a freaking blast. There was more kissing, but then there was sucking, and licking, and finally screaming.
Now, days later, I can’t stop my smile.
Max went out, alone, to buy me this beast. Even though I rolled my eyes as soon as he pulled up in it, I love how he explained his reason for the purchase, even if it’s a little big for me to drive on a daily basis. How he wants the baby and me to be safe. That’s the only reason I didn’t fight him on it. Today, I’m going out with my girls. Dress shopping, because next week we’re getting married.
Fury has to come and clean out his old bedroom anyway, and I think he secretly wants to check on Max to make sure he’s doing all right since the shooting. He is. He’s healed wonderfully. So I called Bates and asked if they could come over, as well.
When winter hits, the roads will be too bad for any of us to drive through to see each other, so this is going to be our last opportunity. He grunted and grumbled, but he’s coming.
“Hey,” Colleen hollers as she lets herself in through my front door.
I make my way from the window over to her and see the rest of the crew behind her, all but Genny. I furrow my brow that Genny isn’t here, but when my eyes catch Ivy’s, I can’t help but smile. We’ve taken her on as one of our own, mainly because she is. Ivy isn’t just an Old Lady, but she’s also Grease’s sister, which makes her family through and through.
“Where’s Genny?” I ask as I grab my purse and keys from the coffee table.
“Being a self-centered, mean bitch,” Colleen says with a roll of her eyes. “Soar hasn’t come home in four days and she’s all pissed off and jealous. She’ll be fine, eventually.”
I drop the subject, not wanting to talk of it further. Obviously, something is up; but if I’m honest, I don’t really care all that much. That’s her personal relationship with her man, and I have no desire to get in the middle of it—at all.
“Let’s get you a dress,” Bobbie suggests with a smile.
I grin, and the five of us walk out of the house and head to the dress shop. I don’t have time for alternations, and I need something that’s going to fit. With my miniscule, but still there, belly, I need something flowy, too.
I’ve been looking online for days, but nothing has really excited me. I like simple, maybe some lace, but nothing flashy. I don’t want rhinestones or anything skintight. I don’t want a hoop skirt or a bunch of petticoats. I just want to feel like me—only gorgeous.
I tell the sales girl my exact thoughts as soon as we walk through the door, and she whisks me away to the back of the shop before gathering an armful of what looks like extremely heavy dresses. She helps me slip the first dress on, but won’t let me look in the mirror until I’m outside and in front of the huge dress mirrors where everybody sits waiting for me.
I hear Ivy gasp first, then Teeny, and when I look at myself, tears spring to my eyes.
The dress is absolutely perfect.
The fabric is a soft taffeta, something I never thought in a million years that I would find appealing, but it’s absolutely sinful, and a very light shade of shimmery pink, almost a dusty rose gold color.
It has extremely thin spaghetti straps and triangles covering my breasts with a thick bunch of fabric that wraps around the front, from right below my breasts, to right above the small swell of my belly. Then the dress floats out in an extreme babydoll A-line that skims the floor. It even has pockets.
“Please tell me that’s it,” Teeny whispers.
“I love it,” I admit with a nod.
“It’s absolutely gorgeous, and just so you. MadDog is going to cry,” Bobbie says as she dashes her own tears away.
“Max doesn’t cry,” I laugh softly.
“He will when he sees you in that dress with your pregnant girl glow,” Colleen says with a wide smile.
I go back into the dressing room, wanting to do anything but take this gorgeous dress off, but I do anyway. The rest of today, we’re free to have lunch and just hang out. I didn’t know how long this dress business would take, so I wanted to make sure we had plenty of time.
Now that everyone is here, and I loved the first dress I tried on, I want to just relax with my friends. I haven’t had a lot of friends in my life, so this group of women, they mean so very much to me.
I walk out of the dressing room and over to the counter to pay for the dress when I see Colleen there. I watch as she hands the salesgirl a stack of cash.
“Colleen?” I ask as I step up to them.
“He wanted you to have what you wanted. He gave her money and said if he needed to bring more, then he would do that,” Bobbie says. I furrow my brow.
I was planning on buying my dress. I’m not paying for my San Diego apartment anymore, now that Max had it packed up and my things brought here, and my business has a steady flow of income.
It was going to be what I bought for the wedding.
The ring he bought me, and the new c
ar, they were all so expensive. That doesn’t include the remodel on the house, and whatever this baby is going to cost. There’s no way, no way, that he can keep throwing money around like this.
“They make plenty of money,” Teeny whispers behind me. I spin around and look at her in confusion. “Seriously. He hasn’t actually spent any of what they’ve made over the years. Trust me when I say, they make plenty of money. And MadDog, he’s at the top of the food chain,” she grins.
“But the house, the ring, the car, and now this? It’s all too much,” I say with a trembling lower lip. I’m on the verge of tears.
“Let him take care of you,” Bobbie murmurs. I look over to her and she smiles sadly. “I see a lot of myself in you. Please, let him take care of you. The day I resigned and let Roach take care of me, damn, it was the best day of my life.”
I don’t ask her what she means, but by the look on her face, the soft, concerned, sympathetic look on her face, I’m thinking that perhaps she’s endured a taste of the hells I have in the past. I jerk in a nod as Colleen takes the garment bag from the salesgirl, and together we all walk out of the shop.
Not another word is mentioned about the dress or money. We spend the rest of the afternoon talking wedding and baby. Then we hurry to the cake shop, where we taste five different flavors of cakes. I ask for such an easy, boring cake, I think the decorator tries her hardest not to roll her eyes.
All I want is a three-tier, white buttercream frosted cake with a fall of light pink peonies cascading down and around it.
“I like the chocolate with Butterfinger,” Colleen mumbles around a piece of the cake in question.
“This lemon is to die for,” Ivy announces on a moan.
“Which one are you going to pick?” Bobbie asks as her eyes flit to all of the pieces of cake in front of me. “What does MadDog like?”
My eyes widen and I panic. I don’t know what he likes. I have not the first clue. I’ve watched him eat food before, I’ve shared meals with him, but I have no idea what his preference is for cake. I couldn’t even tell you how he likes his coffee.
Rough & Ruthless (Notorious Devils Book 4) Page 24