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“What’s that smell?” she wondered, sniffing and wrinkling her nose as she tried to process what her senses were telling her.
“I didn’t smell anything until you pointed out it smells,” Wake teased.
There was a long, drawn-out pause, and then we all looked to the donkey that was standing in the room with us.
“I swear to God it wasn’t me,” Dutch replied, not noticing the donkey.
There was another drawn-out pause, and then everyone was laughing.
“Oh my god,” Matilda wheezed. “I never thought it was you!”
“You have a donkey,” Diana said, eyeing the little thing. “In a bar.”
Dutch turned red in the cheeks.
“Sorry,” she snickered. “I’m just so used to saying it wasn’t me.”
She turned to glare at her husband, Wake. “Those teenagers are awful. Even the girl.”
Wake burst out laughing. “Honey, I know that you expected better but… they’re teenagers. They’re awful period. They don’t need an excuse.”
That was true. I was a bad teenager. My sister was worse. My nephew was the only good one that I knew. Not even Wake’s daughter and her boyfriend were truly good. They got caught sneaking out a lot. Hell, I remembered just a few weeks ago they’d gotten caught about to have sex.
Speaking of…
“Did they finally manage to do it?” I teased.
Dutch threw her head back and laughed.
It was my Mattie who said, “They did it that same night with Wake’s permission.”
My brows rose at that. “What?”
Wake sighed. “I’m not going to delude myself into thinking they’re not going to do something. They’re normal teenagers. They’re committed to each other. They have good heads on their shoulders. And, to be honest, sex feels good and is healthy if you do it with someone carefully. Why would I deny that for them?”
“Because they’re teenagers and the possibility of pregnancy isn’t nil, even if you have them using birth control.” Matilda rolled her eyes.
My lips quirked at that. She wasn’t lying. I’d had plenty of my own scares when I was younger. They were terrifying, and I’d done everything right.
“We went over the consequences, too,” Dutch grumbled. “They’re aware of the repercussions. Wake told them he wouldn’t be raising ‘no grandbabies.’ But we all know he’s a sucker.”
Wake scoffed and pulled Dutch into his arms.
His hand went possessively to her hip, and he glared at something over our shoulders.
I turned to see what had caught his attention and found a group of men at a table two over from us giving our ladies the once-over. From where the ladies were standing with us, it looked like they didn’t necessarily belong to us. That we were just getting to know them.
Well, they couldn’t be more wrong.
I caught Mattie’s hand and pulled her into me, her lithe body slipping between my splayed thighs where I was sitting on the barstool.
“Here,” Diana said to Bain. “I’ll save you the trouble.”
Then she wrapped her arms around him from behind.
“Why don’t you have one of those property patches like they wear on television?” Matilda asked as she leaned deeper into my embrace.
Though it smarted my abs to do—we’d spent a whole lot of time fucking lately. There were a lot of things that were sore—I took her weight and gave her my body to brace against.
“Because I’m the one that made the ‘cuts’ for them in the first place,” Dutch admitted. “It kind of defeats the purpose to make my own vest that declares me Wake’s.”
There was mild chuckling at the table at that pronouncement.
It was true, though. Technically we hadn’t even wanted the cuts at first. They were a nuisance.
For the first month and a half, we didn’t even wear them. Until Dutch started giving us puppy-dog eyes. Then it was decided by Wake, since it was making his wife sad, that we’d “wear the damn things if it made her fucking happy.” And here we were. Wearing the damn things.
But the thought of Mattie wearing my name on her back? That was definitely enticing.
“I’ll buy you one,” I murmured against Mattie’s ear.
She shivered against me before saying, “You want me to wear your name on my back, you’re gonna have to put a ring on my finger first.”
I burst out laughing.
The scary thing was, her wearing the last name LaFayette? That made my dick hard. And seeing as I’d been all fucked out? That was an impressive feat.
“You askin’ me to marry you, baby?” I asked, her eyes gleaming.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Opened it again, then her eyes widened as she said, “Yes. As a matter of fact, I am asking you to marry me. Etienne? Would you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”
I knew she thought I’d laugh it off.
But it fit right into my plans.
“Yes,” I answered. “I think I will.”
Silence descended then as we both processed the words that’d just been said. Then the whole table burst out in surprised exclamations.
