Page 120 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
“You … what?” I say, blinking through my surprise as Crown lights up, acting paranoid about the smoke and sitting half on the roof to keep any of it from blowing back into the room with me. I knew in the back of my mind that one of the worst parts of being pregnant would be being pregnant around these specific men.
They’re absurdly overprotective, and now that we’ve all agreed to enter into an official relationship? Oh, it’s so much worse. Worse even, than I expected.
“My boss was approached by a colleague from the ATF. He said he had a confidential informant who could get someone in the door of Death by Daybreak.” Crown leans his head back against the windowsill, and then looks down at this cigarette like he’s disgusted with himself. “I shouldn’t even be smoking this while you’re …”
“Crown,” I warn, and then sigh. “I rarely see you smoke. I take it to mean that you’re stressed?”
He sighs and stabs out his smoke on the roof tiles as I go over his statement in my head. The ATF … the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives. Interesting.
“This casino bit … I don’t like the idea of it. I really don’t like the idea of Cat seeing a recorded video call between you and Grey. Once he sees that, it’s over, Gidge. He’ll have definitive proof, something beyond dashcam footage from the mafia.” Crown brings the cigarette butt inside and chucks it in his trash can in the bathroom, turning the sink on and then heating up the water so that he can wash his face.
I’ve never seen anything like that, the asshole vice president of the club with warm water dripping down his face, strong, calloused fingers rubbing white lather across his sun-kissed skin. Shit. Heat floods my core, and I have to mentally shake myself out to stay focused. My heart beats strangely as he grabs a towel and dries himself off. He then goes about brushing his teeth which, I have to say, is even weirder.
He has an electric toothbrush, too. Of course he does. None of the other guys do.
I poke Fem with my foot, stroking his fur and trying to decide if he’s just getting used to Crown, or if Crown just has an authoritative tint to his voice that the dog’s responding to.
“How did you get him to move?” I ask, admittedly more interested in that than I am with Crown’s background and history with the ATF. Someone who doesn’t live this shit day in and day out might not understand that, how I could be more fixated on the little things than the big ones.
The thing is, when you deal with the big things on a regular basis, you realize that the reason you want to keep living is the small things. So I care about them. I care about my dog’s reaction to Crown because if they couldn’t get along, and I had to get rid of one of them, well, I’m sure it wouldn’t be the dog. My mouth twitches as Crown comes into the room and pauses at the end of the bed.
He glances down at Fem and then shakes his head.
“We’re working on our relationship,” Crown tells me, looking up and hooking a slight smile. “I’ve always liked dogs. I’ve never had a problem making friends with one until now.” He gives the husky another look. “You know, Cat made the decision to shoot the dog before he even mentioned it to us. He just pulled out his gun and did it.”
“I know,” I say, my throat getting tight. “If I’d even remotely suspected any one of you of pulling the trigger, we wouldn’t be together right now.”
Crown reaches out like he might pet Feminist, but the dog’s head comes up and he snaps at the air just as Crown retracts his fingers.
“Too soon, huh?” he asks, and then moves over to close the window. I almost wish he’d leave it open. The rainstorm helped pull a lot of the ash out of the air, so it smells fresh, clean. I try to take that as a good sign, but then, I did look up the situation with the wildfires only to find out that the wind knocked down several power lines and started an entire new complex just south of us. “Alright, dog, right here.” He snaps his fingers and points at the reading nook cushion, but Feminist ignores him.
“Guess that magical VP voice of yours doesn’t work on everyone.” I grin and poke Fem in the leg with my toe. “Alright, dude, off the bed. If you don’t try to bite Crown’s balls off, I won’t put you in the bathroom tonight.” I wave my hand and make a whistling sound that excites Fem into giving a dramatic yawn before he stands up; he gives a bow-like stretch with his single front leg extended in front of him, and then hops down.
