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“Yeah?”
She nodded. “It was her idea. She wants to do something more than just organize events and go to Pilates. She needs a purpose. I think this will be good for her. Good for me—and us—too. Does that make you happy?”
“I’m happy if you’re happy.”
“I’m happy.” She ran a thumb across my lips. “Just one teeny, tiny, little problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Do I have to change your name in my phone? I kind of like that you’re in my contacts list as Bad to the Bones.”
I laughed hard. It was deep and joyful and came from the depths of my soul.
“You don’t have to change a damn thing,” I said.
“You don’t have to change a damn thing either,” she quipped. “Especially not the tattoos. You can keep those, right?”
“Normally, I’d have to remove the club’s logo. But the brothers held church and voted. After twenty years, they’ve decided I can keep mine. I’m still their brother in flesh and blood—but I have to give up the cut.”
Her fingers began tracing along my body, wandering, and dipping. “You still haven’t gotten a tattoo for me, yet.”
“I will.” I closed my eyes. “Duchess, you gotta stop touching me.”
“Why?”
“Because if you keep that up, I’m going to want to do things. And you need to rest.”
“I’ve rested enough.” She wiggled against me. “We can do things.”
I opened my eyes and stared down at her, my woman, my wife, and one day soon, the mother of my child.
“We can’t,” I protested.
“We can,” she insisted. “We’re trying to start a family. Do you know how that happens?”
I let her push me onto my back and then she draped herself across me. I smirked. “No, I don’t know how that happens.”
She grinned and kissed my chin. “Lay back, Bad Decision, and I’ll show you.”
