“It’s probably better that it not revolve around food,” Code suggested.
“What’s the point of anything if we can’t eat?” I muttered, then realized that made me an asshole since Devcouldn’teat. I was going to have to figure out a way to feed her. That seemed like it would be important during pregnancy. “Fine,” I sighed when they all gave me pointed looks. “I’m open to suggestions.”
CHAPTER 7
Bolo
An hour later I was ready to rip my face off as my brothers kept tossing around date ideas. Not because of their suggestions. No, those were actually helpful, but because fucking Flir kept making PowerPoints. If I had to watch one more goddamn PowerPoint, I was going to lose my shit.
There was a small scratching sound at the door behind me. I leaned back on the two rear legs of the chair and reached backward. Everyone was too busy arguing over why their date idea was the best to notice what I was doing. Flir had his head down as he typed away, keeping meticulous notes and working on those motherfucking slides.
Strike was technically the Secretary for the club, but he’d delegated taking minutes of our meetings to Flir because the OCD bastard was going to do it anyway. Strike had just shrugged and asked, “Why fight it? He’ll do a better job than me anyway.” He wasn’t wrong, and no one saw a point in arguing.
I cracked the door open and smirked as Norman slunk in, keeping low to the floor as he spotted his target. This was the perfect revenge against Flir.
“Bolo.”
“Yeah,” I said, letting my chair drop and trying to keep the guilt off my face as I focused on my president.
“You get the final say here. You’ve got some good options.” There was humor sparking there in his eyes. He’d seen what I’d done but he wasn’t going to out me. He hated PowerPoints, too. We all did. The military believed everything needed to be learned by inundating you with PowerPoint slides. “Zoo, hiking Camelback Mountain-”
“I’d suggest you keep that for sometime later, after the birth and recovery,” Drifter said, interrupting, then shooting Ruck an apologetic look for doing so. “Hiking in the heat isn’t going to be the best thing for a pregnant woman.”
“Don’t they say that women can keep doing the same level of activity in pregnancy that they’re used to before pregnancy?” Code asked, flicking a pen around on the table in front of him. When the silence stretched a little too long he looked up. “What? I know things.”
“The fuck you do,” Hype said with a chuckle.
“You’re right, Code,” Drifter said, “but it’s better to stick to places where EMS can get to you easily in case something goes wrong.”
“We’re not doing anything that requires EMS to show,” I bit out. Just the thought of bringing Devyn on a hike right now made me want to wrap her up in bubble wrap and lock her away in my bedroom. Though I knew deep down she wouldn’t allow that.
“Aw, what the fuck?” Flir complained.
I chuckled as I glanced under the table and saw that Norman had settled his heavy mass down on Flir’s boots. For some reason the dog loved the germaphobic bastard. It was hilarious.
“Who let him in?” Flir said, glaring my way.
I shrugged, then looked over at Ruck. “I was thinking the Salt River.” It was the beginning of June and operations for inner tubing the river had been in full swing for about a month. It was early in the season and not as hot as it would be in July or August, so I figured it’d be good timing. Plus, the river itself had a cooling effect, making it comfortable. Dev had mentioned that she enjoyed being outside, so I had a feeling she’d enjoy floating the river. And as much as I wanted to keep her locked away inside, where she’d be safe, I couldn’t do that. She’d go insane, and so would I, for that matter. Then I glanced over at Drifter. “Or is that a bad idea?”
“Still hot, but not strenuous,” Drifter said in a considering tone. “You’ll want to make sure she stays hydrated, keeps sunscreen on, and you need to have a way of getting out of there if she starts feeling sick.”
“It’ll probably be the only time you’ll be able to do it,” Strike added. “She’s going to be too big to do something like that later.”
Kilo made a choking sound. “I highly recommend,” he looked over at me, “you don’t mention the words big, huge, heavy, or say she looks uncomfortable. At any time. Ever.”
“Yeah, this dumbass learned that first-hand,” OD said with a chuckle.
Kilo winced and rubbed his chest. “All I said was she looked really uncomfortable the other morning,” he said with a sigh.
“She hit you?” Relay asked.
“Worse,” Kilo muttered. “She started crying.”
We all cringed in empathy. Nothing worse than your old lady crying because of something you said or did. Talk about crushingguilt and a heavy desire to fix it. “Thanks for the heads up,” I told him.
“We can work with the Salt River,” Ruck said. “Let’s get this started.”
“Get what started?” I asked.
