Benelli's Elle: Unfortunate Souls MC Book One

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Benelli's Elle: Unfortunate Souls MC Book One Page 22

by Debbie Mitchell


  “Awesome! Since the club owns the catering and the hall and we have all the decorations it won’t be a big deal to move it up a day. I don’t have that many people coming from out of town and I’m sure it won’t be a problem, right?”

  Ah hell, I can see her starting to second guess herself, I better jump in quick, “We can get everything switched, and it actually works out better because we turned a business down that wanted it for New Year’s Eve. I’m sure the caterers were scrambling, trying to do the wedding and all the parties going on. This works out great babe!”

  She takes a deep breath and relaxes her shoulders, “You’re right, this is going to work out even better. Can you make all the travel arrangements for the honeymoon?”

  I pick up her hand in mine and give it a kiss, “I’ve got this babe, don’t worry. Our honeymoon is going to be unforgettable.”

  After lunch we get home and unload all the presents down into the basement, hiding the stuff she got for her mom and Zen. She’s going to get them over here to help wrap and work on the wedding stuff. I talk her into waiting until tomorrow to put up the tree. Thank God! I kind of lied and told her they had Black Friday deals on travel too so I needed to spend the rest of the day planning that. Hell, I don’t know if that’s true, but it got me out of more manual labor.

  Since we have an extra tall ceiling in our log cabin home and French doors in the back, we decided to pick an extra large tree when we took Brenna to the Christmas tree farm. We decided to make Christmas extra special for Brenna and went all out. The tree farm had hot cocoa and even horse-drawn carriage rides. She had an absolute blast! We invited our family and close friends over for dinner and decorating after. I was going to need help to get that puppy in the house and stood up. I don’t know who was more excited about it, Brenna or Remington. We always celebrated Christmas at the clubhouse, but we haven’t made as much fuss about it since mom died. Uncle Winchester always dressed up as Santa for the kids and passed out presents and we did spend Christmas day at their house with Pistol home from school, but as for our own homes, it was nothing as grand as this. We put the tree close to the stairs so it would be easier to decorate, well part of it at least, and she was able to put the star on with a little help.

  The girls spent a whole weekend baking up at least a dozen different kinds of cookies, hundreds and hundreds of them, some sugar cookies in shapes and decorated, some of your standard chocolate chip, you name it, they had it. I swear I was going to have to get bigger clothes if they kept this up. I think Elle ate a few too many herself because she ended up in the bathroom, losing those cookies.

  The club spent several days delivering gift boxes of the sweet treats all over town. While we were at it we gave out the Christmas bonuses to all our employees. Luckily, it was unseasonably warm, so we were all on our bikes with the prospects following us with all the stuff. I’ve been riding every single chance I get, only taking the SUV when we are doing family things.

  Elle has gotten sick a few more times over the last several days, so when I stop by Lipe Family Practice with the cookies I pull Karen off to the side. “Hey, would you mind checking on Elle? I think she has that damn bug again.”

  “Sure, no problem, I’ll swing by after we close up today.”

  “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’m hoping maybe she’s just overdoing it trying to make Brenna’s first Christmas with us extra special but she’s gotten sick a few times and she seems more run down the last couple days.”

  “That’s probably all it is, I wouldn’t worry.”

  “Thanks doc, have a Merry Christmas if I miss you tonight. We’ll see you at the wedding on the 30th though, right?”

  “I wouldn’t miss is for the world. You have a Merry Christmas too, Benelli.”

  I was still in my office getting ahead on paperwork before I was gone with Christmas and the honeymoon, so I missed Karen coming over. When I got home, I asked Elle how it went.

  “Oh, it went fine. She gave me some vitamins since I’ve been so run down. I’m going to swing by the office tomorrow for blood work. Stop making that face Benelli, it’s nothing, normal people that actually go to the doctor get blood work all the time.”

  Okay, maybe I was making a face and overreacting. I need to chill out. I pull a beer out of the fridge and ask if she wants one, but she says she’s good and I decide since it’s a beautiful day I’ll grill our supper.

  Christmas Eve went pretty spectacularly at the Neroni household tonight. Elle and Brenna set out cookies and milk for Santa. Brenna said that explained a lot when we told her what it was for. Sometimes I question that she’s only five. I did however see her birth certificate and can vouch her birthday is April 16th and she is, in fact, five.

  Remington, dad, and Michelle came over and spent the night, not wanting to miss the look on her face in the morning. That worked out great because we really needed the help of putting toys together before morning. As Elle and I were tucking her into bed and trying to convince the excited girl to go to sleep, we convinced Remington to get on the roof and make sounds like a sleigh landing and he even used his phone for “reindeer” sounds. That convinced her to shut her eyes and at least act asleep, but just to be safe, and good thing we did, we had Tank come over dressed as Santa and when she started to sneak downstairs and was caught by Old St. Nick eating the cookies, she ran back to bed and didn’t come back out till morning.

  She ran to our room and jumped in the middle of the bed, luckily missing some important parts but still managing to get a knee really, really close. “Is it time? Is it time? Can we go downstairs now?”

  “Ugh, it’s like,” I roll over and look at my phone on the nightstand, “Brenna, it’s 6:00 in the morning. Can’t you sleep just a little longer?”

  Elle sits straight up in bed. I don’t know which of my girls is the most excited this morning. “Come on baby, wakey, wakey.” They both jump out of bed and are pushing me to get up.

  “Okay, I’m coming,” they both got more sleep than me last night. We may have gone a little overboard on the presents. We will probably regret that for every future Christmas, but we will deal with that next year.

  We get downstairs and bless that future mother-in-law of mine. She has made coffee and I believe I smell cinnamon rolls. She is handing us cups as soon as we hit the bottom step. Dad and Remington have their phones ready and recording her face as soon as she sees her jackpot. Brenna’s mouth drops open and she’s stopped in her tracks. Her smile is gigantic and there’s a few tears leaking out of those baby blues. “Is this for me?” she asks, slowly walking to a giant doll house, reaching out her hand ever so slowly to touch it.

  “That is for you sweetheart, Santa brought you that,” Elle tells her.

  “I saw him last night. I know I wasn’t supposed to peak, but I saw him eating the cookies,” Brenna says.

  “What? You peaked? I don’t know about letting you open the other stuff,” I say teasingly.

  “Pretty please, with sugar on top, I promise to never, ever peak again,” she pleads with her little hands clasped.

  “Well, if you promise,” I say, handing her a couple of wrapped boxes. She opens each one so slowly that Remington plops down on the floor with her and takes it out of her hand and rips the paper off.

  “Uncle Remi, you need to calm down,” she says, and we all bust up laughing. She is so sweet and grateful, she thanks whoever got her what and gets excited about each and every item, including the socks.

  Once she gets distracted by some of the dolls and furniture for the house, we start passing out the presents for each other. I got Elle a new camera, some backgrounds and props I saw her heart on Amazon she forgot to log out of, and a Sapphire tennis bracelet, since that’s her birthstone. She’s crying way more than I expected. I mean, I knew I did good, especially with the photography stuff since that way easy, but that’s a lot of happy tears. She puts on the bracelet and shows her mom, then grabs Brenna and they go upstairs. They come back down and Brenna and h
er have gotten dressed, but I really didn’t pay attention to what they were wearing to be honest. Brenna hands me a gift bag, so I reach down in it and I look at her, still not noticing the shirts but all of a sudden apparently everyone else has because there are gasps and hugs going towards Elle.

  I see there is a key ring with a key on it, the key ring flashes #1 dad, “Oh, that’s so sweet Brenna, thank you baby girl.”

  “Okay, you don’t get to see what that key is to until you take out the last thing,” she says getting a little frustrated and I am so lost.

  I dig through the tissue paper to find a little square black-and-white picture with a little peanut in the middle. That’s when I get a look at the shirts. Brenna’s says big sister and Elle’s says “future member of the Unfortunate Souls” with a little red heart on her belly. I look at her and I look at the picture, then back at her. “Really?”

  “Really. Apparently, those antibiotics canceled out the birth control pills,” she says, “Are you happy?”

  I jump up and spin her around, “Are you freaking kidding me? I’m the happiest man on Earth!” I kiss her with tears spilling down my eyes.

  “Spin me, spin me,” Brenna jumps up and down. I pick her up and give her a big kiss and spin her too as she giggles.

  “Now, let’s go see what this key goes to,” Remington says, adding, “Brenna, Uncle Remi got you something out there too.”

  We get outside and Phoenix and Zen are standing beside our SUV. I walk around the other side and it’s Reaper’s bike, fully restored. “I remember that bike! That’s Reaper’s.” Michelle exclaims. Man, between finding out I’m going to be a dad and getting Elle’s father’s bike, I’m trying to be a strong man but I’m an emotional mess.

  “Here’s yours, princess,” Remington says and carries over a battery operated Harley motorcycle for her. She runs in the house and comes back out with her new leather coat and her sunglasses and hops on it.

  “Look at me! I am a motorcylce princess!” revving her bike and riding all over the blacktopped driveway.

  I lean over, wrap my arms around my Elle and kiss her, “this is the best day of my life.”

  “There’s more best days to come,” she says, kissing me back, “now give me a ride on that beautiful machine.”

  The two of us hop on and we take off down the hill. The ride is cold but we don’t seem to care; we are enjoying this moment. For her, it’s a little piece of her father and for me, the founder of the club that I’m proud to be a president of.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Elle

  Today is my wedding day, December 30th. I’m standing in front of a full-length mirror, my hair all curled and put in a half up/half down design with delicate baby’s breath around an intricate veil with an attached tiara in it. My gown is fitted with delicate beads and sequins across the bust, fully decorated at the top and less and less as it goes down my body. A fellow photographer that was in my classes back home came to do the pictures. Mom is trying not to cry as she comes up behind me and places her hands on my shoulders and we look at each other in the mirror. “You look so beautiful, baby girl,” and I place a hand on top of hers.

  “Stop that, I’m hormonal anyway, don’t make me cry,” I tell her.

  Aunt Cathy peeks in the door, “It’s time.”

  We exit the dressing room and line up in the foyer. The doors open and Brenna starts the procession with a basket of rose petals that she is dropping really purposefully and REALLY slowly, one at a time. Benelli is trying to get her attention and get her to move just a little faster, but she’s not seeing him motion to her. I can’t see or hear what’s going on at the time, but it’s all caught on video. Apparently, my dear man finally calls her name loud enough so she’ll hear and tries to loud whisper for her to come on. She then takes gigantic handfuls and runs down the isle throwing them in big, wild bunches at the guests, looks up at her almost dad and screeches to a halt when she sees him shaking his head and face palming.

  Next to go down the isle is Lyric and Phoenix. Lyric is in a tea length red halter that accentuates all her beautiful curves while Phoenix is in motorcycle boots, blue jeans and a tuxedo top half, including a red cummerbund. Hey, I compromised, they aren’t wearing those horrible shoes and I let them wear jeans. Next Zen and Remington start to head down the isle and then it will be time for me, mom and Ruger. I love that he offered to walk me down the isle. About halfway down the isle the two couples stop, the guys nod at each other and they switch walking companions. Zen and Phoenix walk together and Lyric and Remington. Most brides would probably be going Bridezilla about now, but I just start to chuckle. There’s no doubt in my mind that Phoenix and Zen will be next down the isle.

  Once they are all the way down the music for me starts and they lead me down the isle. That is when I see his face and he sees me, I’ll be honest, I couldn’t wait for this part. To see the emotional look on his face. Yeah, that’s the stuff dreams are made of. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have married him without “the look,” but it’s definitely something I was hoping for.

  Preacher, that came from the St. Louis chapter to marry us, guided us through the rest of the ceremony. Since he gave in on the tuxedo top half, I promised him we could do the traditional wedding vows. The ceremony was relatively short and sweet and before I knew it Preacher was announcing, “You may now kiss your bride,” and he did. Oh man, he did.

  He grabbed me and dipped me, and I was breathless. Him only lifting me back up when the whole crowd went wild. He looked down at me with a wink and a smirk and all I would do was say “Wow!”

  Once we walked down the aisle, we stood in line as each guest passed us, hugging, shaking our hands, patting Benelli on the shoulder and once everyone was through, we made our way through the bubbles and birdseed to our waiting Cinderella, horse-drawn carriage. I wasn’t expecting that, and it took my breath away. I put my hand to my heart and looked at this wonderful man of mine.

  “Don’t look at me,” he said, “I’d like to take credit for that look on your face, but it wasn’t me.”

  Mom leans over to me, “when you were little you used to dream of having a Cinderella carriage.”

  “Mom! It’s amazing! Thank you!”

  “I wanna go! I wanna go!” asked Brenna excitedly.

  “Of course I have to have my queen AND my princess with me,” Benelli says and scoops her up into his arms.

  Once we get to the reception, that’s when the partying, singing and dancing begins. The only thing I’m missing out on is the champaign, but I wouldn’t trade the baby I’m carrying for the world. It’s a small sacrifice for the little peanut growing inside of me.

  Everyone did an amazing job decorating the clubhouse to the hilt. The food was phenomenal; the celebration was epic. When we cut the cake, we did smash just a little bit into each other’s face and I held out my icing covered finger and he took it into his mouth. Yeah, we were going to have to start this honeymoon and soon. I thought for sure it was going to be Elle catching the bouquet, but it was my mom who wasn’t even remotely trying for it. Benelli seductively took off my garter and I could tell Ruger was, in fact, trying for it. He elbowed and pushed his way through all the other single men like he was at the Superbowl trying to intercept the ball. And he did. Not that many of them were actually trying, unlike the girls were for the bouquet.

  The celebration was starting to wind down, and we didn’t want to wait to get each other in bed any longer. We said our goodbye’s, and we stopped at the first hotel we saw on the way to our honeymoon. While he slowly worked my dress and undergarments off I shimmied in anticipation. As soon as I was free from my clothes, I practically tore him off and shoved him to the bed climbing on top of him. Let’s just say round one was fast and furious. Round two, we took it slow and worshiped each other’s bodies like every taste, touch, lick and suck we needed for our survival. It was the most erotic we have ever been together and continued for hours until we both fell asleep wrapped up together. />
  We got up the next morning, showered and had another round before checking out and heading on our way to New Orleans. We get there in time to spend the evening out to dinner and I am devouring some true Cajun cuisine. My new husband had booked us at an amazing New Year’s Eve celebration and we celebrated the New Year with a midnight kiss underneath the firework brightened night. He had booked an entire condominium in the French Quarter with a beautiful, private garden area outside and a balcony overlooking the happenings below. It had way more bedrooms than we needed, but we made sure to christen every one. We spent the days visiting the Frenchman’s Market, the City Park, shops, Jackson Square, you name it; we saw it all. The nights either making love or having wild monkey sex, depending on our mood.

  The last day I talked him into going to a tarot reader/medium. He didn’t want to go, but he did for me. We enter the building and a woman wearing her hair in dreads with a colorful wrap around in leads us through a beaded entryway into another room where we are seated. She first takes his hands:

  You’re a nonbeliever. You’re on your honeymoon. (eye roll), You have found the love of your life. You’ve had to do some dark things in the past year, very dark things. You did what was right.

  She releases his hands and takes mine. You have been through a lot in the last year. You have a bright future ahead, mommy.

  She lets go of my hands and looks over to the corner behind us. There is someone here with you. He showing me the grim reaper, but he’s not. I don’t understand.

  My father went by Reaper.

  Ah, now that makes sense. His name was Jon. He’s telling you two to beware of a man from your past. He is near, but he doesn’t know that you are close. He is not a good man. I would say stay clear of him, but your father says you must take him down. Be very careful.

  I am freaked the fuck out, and Benelli sees it. “Okay, we get it. How about some good news?”

  She shakes her hands in the air like she’s flinging something off of them and then takes my hands again. “I see a little girl, and a baby boy. You will go to court in the very near future, but it will be a joyous outcome. I see…”

 

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