Page 128 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
“What was that fucking promise?” Cade growls out, and I turn a glare over to him.
“To … defer to your authority in the field,” I admit, looking back at Sin. He watches me and then nods, tapping a finger against the screen of his iPad.
“You want to do this? You’re going to do it right. Sit down.” Sin pulls out a chair as Crown and Beast join us, standing on the opposite side of the table so that they can watch me get my ass handed to me by their road captain. Ugh.
I take the proffered seat as Grainger curses and stands up straight, running his fingers through his rust-red hair.
“Keep your temper, Cade,” Crown warns him, but Grainger chooses not to acknowledge that statement whatsoever.
“You can’t be my date, you know?” I tell them all, but mostly looking at Beast; he doesn’t acknowledge that statement. “I have to go in with someone that won’t be recognized.” I let my gaze pan across the four of them. “You’re all like, disturbingly recognizable.”
“You’re not going in alone,” Beast offers up in response. “However you want to make that happen, so that I know you’ve at least got one person in there with you to watch your back, that’s fine by me. Offer up a solution that’s satisfying to me, and I won’t go caveman on your ass.”
I give him a look and then flip him off before Sin redirects my attention back to the iPad and then, when he doesn’t speak, I look up at his face. His silver eyes are impossible to turn away from.
“You’re going to memorize the layout of the casino. Every floor. The grounds outside. All of it.” He pushes the iPad in front of me. “And then we’re going to talk contingency plans.”
“We are her contingency plan,” Beast says, but then he pulls out a chair and takes a seat. Crown does the same. And then, finally, Grainger.
“Before we do that,” I start, chewing on my lower lip. I give Sin a look, and he sighs.
“Juice?” he asks, and I grin.
“Yes, please,” I say as he stands up and opens the fridge. “Also …” I turn around to look at Grainger. “Don’t say ‘girlfriend’. It feels too casual. This.” I gesture around to indicate the five of us. “This isn’t casual. If this is going to work, we’re going to be family.”
“What do you want me to call you? My old lady?” Grainger asks, casting a look over at Beast. The two men exchange a long glance before my husband finally offers a slight nod of his head. “Fucking hell.” He swipes his hand over his face, rubbing at the dark stubble on his jaw. “Sharing an old lady.” He shifts his eyes back down to mine. “You’re poisonous, Gidge. You know that?”
“Actually, I’m venomous. Poison is only deployed defensively; venom is manufactured and delivered by the animal in question.” I make little fangs with two curved fingers on either hand and act like I’m injecting them into Grainger. He stares down at my hands before lifting his attention to my face.
“Can you ever just listen to someone talk and not have an annoying quip as a response?” he asks, but then he’s yanking me into his lap and wrapping his arms around me. “Regardless, poisonous or venomous, you’ve gotten me to do something I never in my life thought I’d be able to do.”
“Share?” I query, putting a hand on the side of his handsome face. “They teach that skill in preschool, you know. Did you miss that? Or did they just not offer that service back in your time?”
He growls at me, grabbing onto my hand and giving it a squeeze. He puts my fingers to his lips and then sucks them in, searing my flesh with his hot tongue. His gaze is … it’s Biblical, the way he looks at me.
I really and truly believe that our souls were married in the church that day, when he fucked me in a dress meant for another man, when blood was leaking under the door, when shots were still being fired. That was our true joining, our unholy union.
“Just to be clear,” Grainger says, his breath warm against my wet fingertips. “I wouldn’t do this for any woman I was interested in. I wouldn’t do this just because I was in love. I’m doing it for one person and one person only: you. Just you.”
“And all the club wives and groupies think you’re incapable of love,” I offer up, but it’s meant to be a compliment. Grainger narrows his eyes at me.
“Who said that?” he asks, voice dangerously inquisitive.
Sin takes my hand and places the glass of orange juice in it, giving me a look as he does.
“Seeing you playful like this …” he starts and then trails off, his eyes shifting over to Crown and Beast. Sin looks back at me. “It makes everything worth it, doesn’t it?” He points at the iPad again. “Now. Sentimentality aside: it’s time to study.”
