Page 58 of Satan's Naughty List
“Please…” she trails, waiting patiently. My brain immediately starts misfiring. Pax told her his name, not just the name we dubbed him for the club. Names hold power and title. Someone could break you simply from knowing yourname.
But I love her. There’s no doubt about how much this female means to me. And if I had to trek through hail and high water, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
Swallowing thickly, I try to tell her a few times, but nothing comes out. It’s a label I haven’t touched since I joined the club. The only time it was used was when Pax and I got married. Other than that, I’m just Nomad. Lost and wandering in search of my home.
Except, I found my home in Pax, and now I’ve extended that home to Aspen.
“Drew.” The words tumble out with a shiver down my spine. “Andrew.” She doesn’t even flinch while I stumble over myself.
“Thank you, Paxton and Andrew.” Her head falls back onto the pillow, petting our cheeks lovingly. That odd swelling in my chest seems to take over again. It’s a feeling I’d only felt with these two, but it seems to be growing hotter as I take in the beauty.
Sheknowsus.
She accepts us.
She is one of us.
She ran for her life, only to run straight into our arms.
If it were up for me to decide, I’d say meeting her was a holiday miracle.
Chapter Forty
Five Years Later
“JesusChrist,”Ishout,halting as a paintball wallops me in the chest. “You little shits!” Running after my niece and nephews, they giggle and shriek in mock fear. Sebastian is only five, so I’m pretty careful with him. Axel, on the other hand, is freaking ten years old. That kid has better aim than my lazy eye. Ophelia is a little more sensitive, but she’s a little bad ass.
Another ball slams into the backing of my chest piece causing me to stumble forward and land funny on my bad knee. With a hiss, I try to move out of the way before I can get stamped on.
“You alright?” A deep drawl asks from above me. My husband Nomad, the burly man that he is, has his beard braided into two parts thanks to me. He didn’t care as long as I didn’t dye them pink.
“I landed funky on my knee,” I pout, trying to straighten out. It doesn’t hurt too badly, but knowing my husbands, I can get them to do my bidding. Bending down, he scoops me up bridal style as Techy continues to target the kids. Once he sees me in Nomad’s arms, he stops and rushes over, effectively leaving himself wide open for the kids.
“Fuckers,” he grumbles as he scans my body over. “What happened?”
“She was being lazy, decided to fake a knee injury.” Whipping my head around, my jaw drops in mock horror. “Don’t even pretend, sweetheart. You love those boys, but I can tell you’re getting anxious to leave.”
“It’s just too loud,” I mutter, a wave of shame crashing over me. Hudson brought the boys so Nomad and Techy could have time with them. We’ve been out since nine this morning, and it’s getting close to dinner time.
“Don’t feel bad, pretty girl,” Techy smiles, pushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Leaning in, his lips nibble on my lobe. “I would be lying if I said you being covered in paint wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen.”
“Kids!” Hudson booms, laughing his ass off. Again, redness sparks over my skin.
“We’ll be by next week for dinner?” Techy asks while assisting me in getting the damn vests off.
“Sounds good. Widower is on bedrest right now.”
“You guys need to keep it in your pants,” Nomad snorts. “This is baby six?” Using my fingers, I name off all the kids to only land on five. This would be six.
“She threatened me, said I was getting snipped,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I told her those things aren’t foolproof. She doesn’t care.”
“Well, here’s to praying for stopping at six.” They all hug while I remain in shock. I can’t believe she’d willingly pop six kids out of her coochie.
About three years ago, the guys and I decided to take the plunge. We went to a fertility specialist who confirmed that I’d been given a hysterectomy. They reassured me that my ovaries were still in place, so my hormones should be okay. I cried my eyes out for days, then on and off for a few months. I mourned the choices that were ripped away from me.
Now, I’m kind of glad I didn’t have the option. Hearing of how sleepless nights are, the constant feeding and changing, then the older kids talking back…I’d have backhanded my kid if he talked to me the way Axel talks to his mom. She puts him in his place, but she does it without abusing her damn kid.
I used to get my mouth washed out with soap. Apparently, that’s frowned upon now.
