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I swing around and face my brothers. “We’re having TWINS!” I scream at the top of my lungs, banging on my chest like fucking King Kong with his woman.
“Holy shit! Jo’s pregnant?!” Punk calls out from the bedroom.
“No, I’m fucking not!” she screams back to the whole house.
Giddy, I spank her juicy ass since it’s right there next to my face. “She will be soon,” I promise the entire house before remembering the agenda. “Shit. Can’t talk. I’ve got to get her over to the build and finish the damn thing, now.” I’m running out of the house to my bike.
Josephine’s screaming at the top of her lungs, but I honestly can’t hear a thing she’s yelling at me. I’m too jacked up. I finally put her on the ground, kiss her full on the lips, and hop on my bike, waiting for her.
“Maceo, I don’t have my work boots on. I don’t have my keys to the trailer and buildings. I don’t have my laptop, which I definitely need. And you’re completely barefoot,” she says in a rush, probably afraid I’ll haul her over my bike if she doesn’t hop on.
I look down at myself. Sure enough, I’m barefoot. I laugh out loud because I’m slap happy. I probably would have driven off and not felt the difference.
Quickly, I get off my bike and run into the house after Josephine to finish getting dressed. My mind keeps racing, thinking about everything Josephine revealed.
A wedding at the new MC clubhouse this fall would be fucking awesome. She’s right when she says it will more than meet our needs as well as any guests invited. The kitchen is big enough for a catering company. There are bathrooms galore. The backdrop outside will be fucking stunning for an outdoor ceremony. If she’s okay with doing the wedding at our new home, I’m all for it.
We’ll be married by fall. IUD comes out after the honeymoon—hmm, maybe I can convince her to remove it before the wedding. We could try to conceive during our honeymoon. Either way, we’ll be pregnant with twins by Christmas for sure!
“You know I can hear you, right? You’re talking out loud,” Josephine says, walking back outside. “And just because twins run in my family, doesn’t mean it’s a for sure thing with us.”
“Oh, it’s happening. We’retotallyhaving twins. And I’m going to get you pregnant again and it will be another set of twins. I feel it right here,” I say confidently, pointing at my chest where my new tattoo is.
Josephine chuckles. “You’ll get what you get and won’t throw a fit.”
“I’ll get what I give you, which will be two sets of twins,” I say proudly.
As I climb on my bike, I’m hit with a conundrum. “Oh my God, where are we going to put them all?”
“I told you, we’ll get a minivan if it comes to that,” Josephine says, calmly, strapping on her helmet and climbing on.
How can she be fucking calm right now?This is serious!
“Not the vehicle. I’m talking about the clubhouse. Where are we going to keep four kids in the presidential suite? It’s not going to work, Pixie. You need to add a fourth story to the building,” I ramble, panicked.
Josephine sighs. “You really want to raise our children in the Mercy Ravens MC clubhouse?”
I’m not opposed to it. I mean, the guys are all there to help keep an eye on them and the bunnies could help…Oh my God!
Between my men and the bunnies fornicating like they currently do, and how much they plan on doing more once we move into the bigger space, there’s no way we can allow our kids to live under that roof. My God, it would be a nightmare once they hit puberty.
“What are we going to do?” I ask miserably.
“Relax, future hubby. I got this. You have a hundred acres.”
“Wehave a hundred acres,” I correct, rubbing her hands around my waist.
“Yes, we’ve gota hundred acres,” she says again more slowly, and her words finally sink in my thick head.
“You could build us a house on the property!”
“Ding, ding, ding! Yay! We have a winner,” she teases.
“Where would we build it on the property?” The wheels in my head start rotating with ideas.
“Wherever you want, baby. If you want it right next door, I can do it. If you want to move an acre or two away, I can do that too. If you want it on the other side of the property, I’ll make it happen. Let me finish the clubhouse first. Next, I can plan the wedding. I can draw up a couple drafts of a house we can agree on after the wedding. We’ll build the house and work on babies after we’re settled,” she says causally.
I shake my head. The timeline is too long for my liking. “Wedding planning and house drafts together, followed by babies. We can live in the clubhouse with the babies till the house is done,” I counter.
