Page 124 of Ruthless Enforcer

“Jesus.” Kissing Harper, I shift out from under her and go to help. “Did you bring Christmas?”

“By the looks of this place, I assumed Christmas had already thrown up in here.” Gabriel holds out a couple bags to me.

Instead, I take the baby when she reaches for me. I’m a sucker for her big blue eyes and that toothless grin. “How’s my girl?”

“Wet,” Gabriel says, pushing a diaper bag at me.

Nico sees Mason and exclaims, “Horses!” before letting go of his mom’s hand and running over.

Smiling, Clara sets down the bag in her hand. “It’s all he’s been talking about since we found out we were coming.”

“Takes after his mother.” Gabriel goes up behind his wife and pulls her to him, kissing the back of her neck. Over three years married and the bastard still looks at her like someone handed him the moon.

I understand the feeling. Soothing Lucia’s back, I look across the room.

Harper’s helping Nico climb onto her chair, laughing at something Lily’s saying.

My wife catches me staring and smiles.

There it is—that little punch to the chest I still get. Every fucking time.

Emma and Jake walk in. Jake cradles their eight-month-old son and Emma has a large card in her hand. “Anyone know anything about this?” she asks, waving it before handing it to Mason.

Mason starts to laugh, showing Lily who immediately joins in.

Mandy leans over to look and then shakes her head. “That’s fucked up.”

“What?” Harper asks, holding out her hand.

As they pass her the card, I go to look over her shoulder.

It’s the masterpiece I had printed last week. I grin proudly. “That’s our Christmas card.”

On the front is a photograph of Harper, me, Mason, Lily, Emma, Jake, and the three kids sitting on the porch in front of our house.

Harper looks gorgeous, by the way.

So do I.

Behind us, photoshopped with what I consider considerable artistic restraint, is an explosion of Christmas. Across the top:

MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM

BLACKTHORN RANCH

And across the bottom:

WE MADE IT.

Jake looks at me as he sits down. “You paid money for that?”

“For two hundred of them,” I inform him.

Mason laughs again. “Who the hell are you sending two hundred Christmas cards to?”

I tickle Lucia’s neck to hear her giggle. “Old friends.”

Mason’s expression changes, and Jake goes still. The three of us exchange a look. They know exactly who I mean. Guys we served with. People scattered across the world who knew us before Iron Ridge. Before Blackthorn. Before Emma and Lily and Harper.