Tongue's Target (Ruthless Kings MC Las Vegas #10) - K.L. Savage Page 0,37

her arms around me and cries loud tears that shake her entire body.

“But you’re crying. You’re unhappy.”

She pulls away and keeps her arms on my shoulders, tears freely running down her cheek but her mouth in a big smile. “These are good tears. Happy tears. I love you, Wayne Hendrix. You’re so thoughtful. This sign is everything I wanted. It’s a symbol of our story, where it all started and where it will go. Our fairytale. This is our book.”

I did something good. I made her happy. A crooked grin tilts my lips. “Our own book? I hope it’s a million pages long so I can hear you read it to me forever.”

“And I’d read every word a million times if it means making you happy.”

Happy.

Such a new concept. It makes me exposed.

But it isn’t so bad. Not with Daphne.

She’s the new chapter in my life after so many others came to a horrible end.

“Can we hang it now?” she asks eagerly.

“Sorry, we still have work to do outside. It will have to wait a few days,” one of the contractors says.

“I’ll make another, a smaller one, one that you can carry with you.” I think about a necklace and a charm. I bet I could go to a local jeweler.

“You’re too good to me, Tongue.”

Is she kidding? I’ll never be good enough. Not when it comes to Daphne.

“Oh my god, that’s so sweet,” Juliette praises the sign as I show her a picture of it.

“Let me see. Let me see.” Melissa snatches it from my hands and her lips part. “Aw, that’s so cute.”

“What are you guys looking at?” Mary asks as she and Joanna walk into the living room. We are all sprawled on the couch watching Dawson’s Creek reruns. The men are in Church, and sometimes that lasts a while. While the boys are away, the girls will play, and right now, we want the seventy-inch flat screen to ourselves.

Melissa turns the phone to show Mary and Joanna as they plop down on the couch, groaning at the same time, but they peek at the phone and squeal when they see what Tongue did for me. Everyone in this house is pregnant it seems. Mary isn’t too far along, but Joanna is around thirty weeks. Her belly is as round as a basketball, but from the back, you can’t tell she is pregnant. Sarah is the same way.

Dawn didn’t want another baby right away, but Skirt was chomping at the bit. He wanted an entire clubhouse full of kids. Sunnie and Patrick want to wait until they have a few more years of sobriety under their belts, which I respect them for. Completely.

“Oh my god, someone take this child,” Dawn says, wobbling into the room with her daughter latched on her breast and Aidan gripped on to her leg. She’s sliding him across the floor since he won’t get off. The poor woman looks like she’s about to pass out from exhaustion.

“Aidan, leave your mom alone!” Maizey shoves him and Aidan falls right on his ass. “You are such a brat.”

“Am not!” Aidan tosses at her, then shoves her shoulder.

Their fight reminds me of the little spat Tongue and I had yesterday.

“Are too! You’re a baby.”

“You’re a baby, Maizey!”

“I’m rubber and you’re glue whatever you say, bounces off me, and sticks you!” Maizey sasses. I have to hold back a snort, because she flips her dark hair over her shoulder and lays her hands on her hips in triumph.

Sarah trudges into the main room next, her face pale. She’s walking a bit slower and gripping her stomach.

She and I might be on different pages right now, but I don’t want to see her in pain. Her hair is up in a messy bun and it looks like she hasn’t slept in a week. “Maizey, Aidan, enough. I don’t want to hear your bickering today. Go play in your room.”

Even though they just got into a spat, the kids run down the hall laughing, screaming ‘you’re it!’ as they disappear into Maizey’s room.

“Sarah, are you okay?” I ask, pushing myself off the couch. Tyrant and Yeti lift their heads and watch me as I walk over to her. She leans against the bar that hasn’t been used since Patrick and Sunnie came back from rehab. “Sarah?” I lay a hand on her arm and the girls crowd around me.

Sunnie comes into the room next, a bowl of popcorn attached to her hip so we can marathon our show.