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“Yeah, Duke. You’re my boyfriend.”
Mama Leonardi descended on us and gestured at the table. She patted my shoulder and nodded happily before scooping up the empty plates and carting them away.
“You guys coming to the clubhouse barbecue?” he asked.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“You know, if we tell people we’re together, you can sit on my lap at the bonfire.” He grinned. “And then you can sleep over in my room.”
“That sounds like a perfect night. It really does, but I just—I’m not ready for everyone to know. I’m not ready for us to be on display. That’s so much pressure.”
“Pressure? What kind of pressure?”
“The kind of pressure to make stuff official. The Old Ladies are all awesome. I love them. They’ve been so good to me and to Waverly. But they’ll ask questions and want to know.”
“Want to know what?”
“When you’ll make me your Old Lady. When I’m getting inked. When we’re having little Dukes.”
He raised his brows. “You want to make little Dukes with me?”
I blushed. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“So, you don’t want little Dukes with me?”
“Little Dukes? I can hardly handle one big Duke.”
His smile stretched slowly across his face. “I don’t know, Willa. You handle big Duke just fine.”
“This is getting out of control,” I snapped, my face flushing even more. “Mia and Allison have babies. Joni and Brooklyn are pregnant. I just know I’ll get asked about what’s in store for our future.”
“Doc and Boxer don’t have kids,” he pointed out.
“No. Not yet. But she’s feeling the pressure.”
He shrugged.
“Don’t shrug at me,” I demanded. “You just got me to put a label of boyfriend girlfriend on this. But when it’s out in the open, everyone will be watching, speculating, and encouraging. You know how they are. We’d be like the newest episode of Animal Planet. Biker mating rituals and how they impress the female of their choice.”
Duke’s shoulders lurched as a boisterous laugh escaped his mouth.
Mama Leonardi returned to the table with three plates of different pastas. One of which was spaghetti and meatballs. She peppered the dishes, added a heavy sprinkle of Parmesan to them, and then left.
“You’re not wrong,” he said. “About the Old Ladies voicing their opinions. But it’s only because they mean well and already think of you as one of them.”
“They don’t.”
“Of course they do. Why else would Mia and Joni have bought you and Waverly brand new clothes.”
“I knew it!” I yelled. Realizing how loud I’d been, I looked around the restaurant and said, “The pasta. I knew it would be good.”
Duke chuckled.
“I knew some of the clothes were new. They totally lied about it.”
“They didn’t want you to feel like a charity case. They’re aware of the insane pride you have.”
“Insane pride? About what?”
