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The truck inches along next to me. “I wouldn’t wish midges on my worst enemy. Leith, ye take that back!”
“Nae.”
The engine stalls as he frets. “I’ll tell Nan!”
I laugh. “Run along,clipe. Tell my mam everything!”
“I’m nae snitch!” Cursing the day I was born, he drives away. I chuckle to myself. A big three-hundred-pound bastard like him, scared of midges, wee flies. Well, I’m six-feckin’-two, and I’m afraid of ‘em too. Those insects’ll ruin yer life. Some countries have crocodiles. Others have tigers. In Scotland, young or auld, we run from midges. Our entire country is utterly and rightly terrified of those blood-suckin’ pests.
* * *
Inside the house,it is just as dark. Cock hard, palms itching for the feel of my wife’s soft body, I stroll into our bedroom.
“Chevelle,” I groan, kicking one boot off after the other. “Wake up, hen. I need ya.”
Now, me being me, and my wife being a wee crabby in the middle of the night, I lay it on thick. While undressing, I tell her all the things I’ll do to her. My dick, her mouth. My tongue, her wet slit. Might not sound like the words they use in those books she reads, but the sound of her when I’mfeckin’her is good enough for me.
“Feck, Chevelle.” I climb in bed, feel across the sheets, wondering how she could be mad.
But I have a bigger problem than my wife’s sometimes attitude.
She ain’t here.
Cold, nauseating dread fills my veins. In a split second, I’mup taehigh doh.Moving in overdrive, I stagger over my big feet as I climb from the bed. I shove my legs back into my jeans, then reach beneath the custom mattress for the cool steel of a .9 millimeter.
“Chevelle!” I shout, stalking past the bedroom door. “Where areye, hen?”
I clamber across the dark living room, calling out to her and moving toward the opposite side of the house for Mia’s bedroom.
“Shhhh.”
At the sound, my next move is automatic. I press my forearm up and bring my opponent down. By the time I blink, Chevelle isarseup on the ground, her face down.
I press the gun into the back of my waistband and pull her up, pressing her close to me. “Hen, I’m sorry.”
This has been the worst day of myfeckin’life. I’m on high alert.
She slaps at my chest, trying to take a step back. “What kind of entertainment did the MacKenzie boys enjoy after the game? How drunk are you to think I’m an intruder, huh?”
“I—”
“And a gun!”
“Nae gun!”
Chevelle sighs. “Baby, I know sports will have you filled with testosterone, which in certain scenarios I don’t mind, but a gun? You’re drunk, running around. You could kill somebody!”
Already did, and I’m not satisfied.“I’m not drunk.” I snap at her for talking nonsense, eyes adjusting to the darkness.
“Ha! Not drunk, and you were out with Brody all night?”
Yup. Best to be drunk. I change my tune. “Well, I’m protectin’ my home. Hen, ya know I never get that drunk. I loveye!”
“Awe, I love you too, baby.” She pouts then proceeds to wag a finger. “But don’t have Brody signing your ticket to the doghouse. It’s ‘gun this’ and ‘pussy that’ with him! Don’t make me regret the olive branch. I will snatch that sucker right back.”
I cross my heart.
Smiling, she gestures to the light in the pantry. “Our security system is still Fort Knox. The culprit is three feet tall, Leith. It’s safe to assume she’s fallen asleep with the cereal again. I’m returning to bed. Please put the gun away before carrying your child to hers. Baby, also assume that you’ve forfeited your nightly kiss.”
