Preacher (The Untouchables MC 5)

My eyes got wide. So he liked it rough, did he? I asked him and he laughed.

“I like anything and everything with you, darlin’.”

We were immediately surrounded by well wishers. Everyone wanted to know when the wedding was (two weeks) and where Paul was. Preacher wouldn’t say.

“Where was he, anyway? Which one of us did he lie to?” I asked as we cleaned up. The paper plates and scraps went right into one of the three rotating composters in the back, and everything else was neatly contained in biodegradable garbage bags.

“Neither one of us, actually. He went to both places. He had more luck in Mexico.”

“That’s where he is now?”

“He’s staying at my shack between treatments. I told him he could stay there forever, but he’s looking for his own digs nearby.”

He smiled tenderly at me.

“Would you like to go see him, sweetheart? If the doctor says you can travel, of course.”

“If the doctor says you can travel!” I countered, putting my hands on my hips. He chuckled and pulled me against him. “Sweetheart, I’ve been cleared for everything.”

I harrumphed and said something about his being reckless, but I couldn’t really complain. The man had been spoiling me rotten since the cabin and making love to me so much we were both short of sleep. But I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

“Are we really getting married in two weeks?”

“Are you really against going to Reno for the weekend and getting hitched?” he countered, leaning his forehead against mine. “Because I don’t want to wait that long.”

“You are going to make me ruin my heels,” chided Clarice as she tottered over on six-inch stilettos. The garden path was mostly pebbles with a few steppingstones. But God forbid she wear practical footwear. She’d told me many times that comfortable shoes were against her religion. “Managing a wedding in two weeks. You are crazy, Preacher.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you, Clarice.”

She scoffed and adjusted her hair.

“Well, that is the truth. But I’m still going to need a spa weekend when it’s over.”

“Consider it a thank you gift. You pick the place.”

She smiled wide and gave Preacher a kiss, then looked at me.

“This man of yours is a handful, you know that, honey?”

“I know,” I said, pulling her in for a hug. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Helping? Honey, I am running the show. This wedding is The Love Boat, and I’m Julie, the cruise director!”

I laughed and hugged her again, more than relieved that someone else was taking the lead. The baby was making me tired all the time. With Preacher keeping me up all hours on top of it, I needed at least two naps a day.

“Getting sleepy, sweetheart?”

I nodded, my eyes already drifting shut. Preacher’s friends had temporarily gone back home, so we were staying at the parsonage more often. I smiled as he lifted me up and carried me across the street.

I was asleep before we even made it inside.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Preacher

“So, all I do is hold the ring?”

I nodded solemnly at the handsome young man nervously shifting his weight back and forth beside me. I had asked Marcus to be my best man. And today, I was getting married.

“Hold the ring and show your support. I need it. I’m a little nervous.”

“About getting married?”

“Hell, no.” I laughed. “A little worried the bride will get cold feet! I am marrying up, my friend. I highly recommend it.”

Marcus giggled and shook his head.

“You are funny, Preacher. Cynthia is a real catch, though!”

“Don’t I know it. Don’t I know it.”

I straightened my tie. For some godforsaken reason, I’d allowed Clarice to dress me today. I was wearing a vintage navy suit that she’d custom fit to my measurements. I had to admit that I did look sharp, even if it was not my normal way of dressing.

I’d put my foot down when she tried to get me in a man bun, however.

My hair was down, brushed, and looking a little more polished than usual, thanks to some pomade she’d pressed into it, using what she called ‘prayer hands’.

Seemed appropriate, given the circumstances.

God had answered a whole lot of prayers. Prayers and dreams and wishes I didn’t even know I had. And he’d done it all with one very special package.

I looked around the church as it filled up with folks from the neighborhood as well as half the damned bikers in California. I nodded at folks as they came in, but I didn’t move from my spot. I hadn’t lied to Marcus. I was nervous.

Cynthia was way out of my league in almost every way, and I knew it. The crazy thing was, she didn’t seem to think so. She truly believes that I’m wonderful, I reminded myself. She was out of her mind to be agreeing to this, I decided, but I was damned lucky that she was.