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Chapter Thirteen
Maceo
“Can you believe it’s two weeks ‘till the wedding?”
I turn to look at Josephine, my eyes roaming over her fit body, watching her dress for the last workday of the week. I’m one luckysonofabitch. This woman has agreed to a lifetime of being my wife.
It’s been nearly a week since I came back from my mission, and it’s been nothing but busy. Josephine has been cracking the whip on Lloyd’s build, and they should be able to finish by next week if all goes smoothly. With Lloyd’s project complete, Josephine will be able to have both her teams tackle our house and her parents’ cottage.
Simone started doing our books for mine and Jo’s companies. She’s awesome at what she does, suggesting ways in which we can save in taxes for both of us. Chase has been on cloud nine having Simone around him, walking her through everything he has done for the books.
The two of them are in this weird dance where Chase draws her in, and she escapes at the last possible second. Chase islovingit. He’s all about the conquest, thechase—no pun intended—but I don’t doubt for a second, he’ll have her heart soon enough and for good.
I’ve visited Tom twice since he’s been released from the hospital. He’s recouping nicely, but he can’t recall anything useful from the shooting. Being shot from behind made it impossible for him to see his attacker. Chase and I mentioned the job offer to join our intel team once he graduates, and boy, was he excited. It’s safe to say we snagged him.
Josephine’s parents continue to help where they can. Jim is still supervising the team on our house while Stella has found her calling being the lunch lady of headquarters—my men love her and her bag lunches-to-go.
Josephine met with Brandon, her student counselor, for the second time this week, making me feel relieved that she’s taking her mental health seriously. I don’t like the fact he’s a dude, but to his credit, he seems very professional.
Things are falling in line quickly for the wedding. The invite responses have been returned, all expenses paid, final touches completed, and the guys’ suits are finished. Stella is eagerly hoping the bridesmaids’ dresses will be ready in time for the wedding, but Josephine is fine with the no-no dresses as a back-up.
The best part of this week has been the surveillance our team has been doing at the mall watching Lorenzo’s store. We’ve been secretly recording video footage of daily deliveries of the new poppers-laced pheromone party drug he’s pushing in the community.
Using the store in the mall to make it look like he’s selling perfume is pretty ingenious. Everyone from teenagers to older adults are going in and out of that store, dropping major cash for little bottles of this illegal substance.
When I reached out to the governor, a strait-laced leader, about a possible drug bust on the Bianchi mob, he offered to double our company’s pay if we could make our case iron-clad for the FBI to prosecute the entire Denver criminal enterprise. As it sits right now, it’s in the bag.
If I can’t kill Bianchi, then I’ll settle on him behind maximum security bars where he can’t hurt Josephine or our family.
“Ground control to Captain Tabares,” Josephine teases, waving a hand in my face. “Did you hear me at all?”
Snapping out of my haze, I smile wolfishly. “Sorry, Pixie. I was thinking about how you’re going to be stuck with me for the rest of your life…Missus Tabares.”
Josephine flashes me a megawatt smile. “Don’t I know it. No other place I’d rather be.”
Feeling frisky, I grab her by her narrow hips and pull her flush against me, my hard-on pressing into her stomach. “Let’s play hooky.”
Josephine gives me a look saying, ‘not happening.’ “Maceo, if you want me to get moving on our own house, best not tempt me from Lloyd’s build.”
Frustrated and horny, I pout. “You don’t fight fair. You know I want you working on our house, but I want a day to throw you around on the bed.”
Josephine tries to untangle herself, but I hold tight. “The sooner our house is done, the sooner you can put a baby in me.”
“Babies,” I counter firmly. I don’t add that she’s already carrying our children, and if I’m not mistaken, she isglowingalready. She’s going to be a knockout bride all knocked up bymoi.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”
“What I am isright,” I say. “I don’t know why you’re against twins.”
“You’re kidding, right?
I shrug and shake my head—I truly don’t understand her hang-up. “Explain it to me.”
“Let me put it in some measurable terms for you. You’re six-five. I’m five-two. I weighed less than six pounds when I was born. I saw your baby book when we moved in here—you were damn near ten pounds. Now imagine little ol’ me carrying around two of you in my hundred-five pound body for forty weeks.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling. All I can imagine is how impossibly sexy and gorgeous she’ll be, round with my children. I get the fear about carrying two of me inside of her, but if she’s worried about carrying them, then I’ll carry her around the entire duration of the pregnancy to make her feel better. With her filled out, there will be more of her for me to love and worship.
Josephine glowers. “Why are you getting harder? You cannot be turned on by the visual I described.”
