Royal Mess (Devil's Knights 2nd Generation 3)

“Shh,” I hissed. “I don’t even know what he meant when he told me that.”

“I do,” Greer smirked. “When he picked you up, you wrapped your arms and body around him like a cat.” She motioned to my belly. “Well, as much as you could with baby in the way.”

“No, I didn’t,” I insisted.

Greer eyed me knowingly. “You were dead to the world, Royal. I was not.”

“I totally believe it,” Bristol sang. “The chemistry between you and Marco is undeniable.”

“There is no chemistry,” I growled. What was she even talking about?

“I saw it, too,” Greer chirped.

“You barely even saw us together,” I insisted. “You don’t even know what you are talking about. There is so much between Marco and me that I want to kick him in the butt when I see him.”

“Maybe,” Greer smirked. “But I think after you kick him in the butt, you’d love to kiss him.”

“My brother is gone because of what Marco did.” I sounded like a bitch saying it, but I didn’t know what else to say to prove to them that there wasn’t any chemistry between Marco and me.

“Honey, I’m not going to tell you how to feel, but I will say Marco did not kill your brother.”

I turned in my stool toward Greer. “Do you actually know what happened?” I asked.

“I was given the rundown.” She put her hand on my leg. “Was Marco involved with the deal with the Meeks? Yes. Was there any way for him to know they would go all psycho? Not at all.”

“He should have just left it alone. Why did he have to go back on his word and completely mess things up?” I didn’t understand any of this.

“Because he wasn’t about to actually help Meeks,” Greer reasoned. “In the plain sense of the word, Marco and the rest of the Banachi are bad men, but they have morals. Morals that they don’t bend on.”

“And what morals are those?” I asked. “He should have just left it alone.”

“We don’t hurt women, children, or the innocent.” Marco’s words thundered around the kitchen. “And maybe you’re right about leaving it alone, beautiful, but I can’t take back what happened.”

He walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.

My heart dropped to my stomach. Why did he have to walk in at that exact moment? I mean, it was his place, after all, and he could go wherever he wanted, but maybe he could clear his throat or stomp his feet a little bit to announce his arrival.

Greer gulped, and Bristol dropped the spatula in her hand.

“Good morning!” Bristol shouted. “Are you hungry? I like to cook!”

Greer sputtered and slapped her hand over her mouth.

I buried my face in my hands and wished to drop dead right there. “Oh, Lord,” I mumbled.

“You’re the one who doesn’t do well under pressure,” Marco laughed. “There’s always one of them in the group. Though there are a couple of them in the Devil’s Knights ol’ ladies.”

Bristol scrambled to grab the spatula off the floor. She tossed it in the sink and smiled wide. “I don’t like to be surprised, Mister.”

“Mister?” Greer laughed. “You really are the one who can’t handle pressure.”

Bristol turned back to the stove. “I’m going to stop talking.”

“That may be a wise choice,” Marco drawled. He moved to the cabinet and grabbed a coffee cup.

“Did you sleep well?” Greer asked him.

I groaned again. Anytime now, I was going to melt into a puddle of embarrassment.