Reining It In (Devil's Knights 2nd Generation 6)

Bear

“DID YOU TALK TO LUNA today?”

Greta splashed water on my face and lathered some face wash in her hands. “I texted her, but nothing more than checking in with her.” She scrubbed the soap into her face and let it sit for a minute. “She did tell me that Ransom and the club finished checking Preston for Dr. Douche.”

She swiped at the soap over her eyes and looked in the mirror at me.

I leaned against the door frame and tried not to laugh. “You think you used enough soap?”

She spat out soap that had dripped on her lips and sputtered. “I might have misjudged how much to use. Soap must lather different at this altitude.”

“Mama,” I laughed. “We’re not sitting on the peak of the Rockies.”

She turned on the water and rinsed the soap off her face. “Well, whatever.” She grabbed the towel and patted her face. “You need to get used to me making a fool of myself.”

I was getting used to it, and I liked it. “Give it more time.”

She tossed the towel at me and bumped her shoulder into me as she strutted into the bedroom.

I tossed the towel into the bathroom and turned off the light.

“Is that the thanks I get for buying you the best pork chop you have ever eaten?” I called.

“I said it was as good as Meg’s pork chops which are the best ones I’ve ever had,” she hollered.

I moved through the cabin and checked all the locks.

It was only Monday night, and we had managed to get everything wrapped up with mom’s room today. Tomorrow, we were going to meet with the funeral home and figure out when and how I was going to get her remains. Once that was done, we could get back to Rockton.

“Are you coming to bed?” Greta called.

I checked the back door and switched on the motion light. “You gonna make me watch some lame movie?” I asked.

“More than likely,” Greta hollered.

My phone dinged on the counter, and Greta’s name flashed on the screen. “Did you just text me from the bedroom?”

She didn’t say anything, but I could hear her laugh. I opened the message and shook my head.

Can you pop some popcorn?

“Good God, Greta,” I laughed.

Another message flashed on the screen.

Please, and thank you.

You’re crazy. I sent back.

Thank you. I get it from my mama. And my aunts.

I shook my head and walked into the pantry.

“Check your messages,” Greta called.

I grabbed a pack of microwave popcorn and set it in the microwave.

“Bear,” Greta called.

“Oh, now you are going to talk to me?” I grabbed my phone and check what she sent.

Don’t forget salt.

And that solidified that Greta was a complete nut.

“I’m going to take your phone away from you.”

Her laughter echoed down the hallway, and I couldn’t help but smile.

My phone lit up again. No you’re not.

“Try me, mama.”

The popcorn finished popping, and I emptied it into a big bowl. My phone lit up again, but I ignored it. If Greta wanted anything else, she was going to come get it herself.

“You didn’t bring the cookies I saw in the pantry,” she whined.

I set the popcorn on the nightstand and pulled my shirt over my head. “Last I checked, you got two feet and two hands, mama.”

Greta scoffed and tossed back the covers. “How rude.”

She stomped down the hallway while muttering under her breath about needing something sweet to go with the salty popcorn.

“It wouldn’t be salty if you hadn’t told me to add salt,” I called.

She stalked back into the bedroom with two packs of M&Ms and dumped them on top of the popcorn.

“I thought you were getting cookies,” I laughed.

She crumpled up the wrappers and set them on the dresser. “Toss it,” she ordered.

“You want me to throw away the popcorn now?”

“Good God, Bear. I swear, it’s like I need to spell things out for you sometimes.” She grabbed the bowl from me and shook the bowl of popcorn. “Mix in the M&Ms,” she droned.

I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to me. “You tell me to toss something, I’m gonna toss it into the garbage can, mama.”

She grabbed a piece of popcorn and shoved it in my mouth. “You need to read between the lines, lumberjack.”

“Not the first time you’ve told me that, mama. I guess I’m gonna have to start doing it.”

“It would be well advised,” she laughed. “Though, if you start doing it, you’ll have to give lessons to all of the other guys in the club how to do it.”

I grabbed the bowl of popcorn from her and hauled her into bed.

She settled under the covers and grabbed the popcorn back. “You okay with watching Pretty Woman?”

I didn’t care what we watched. “Fire it up, mama.” I grabbed a handful or popcorn and popped it into my mouth.

“Are you sleeping in here?”