Marked By The Devil (Devil's Riders 5)

She was talking about ice cream.

My Becks had gone absolutely coocoo for ice cream since the second trimester started.

“Now sweetheart, just hold your horses. I have your ice cream. I just forgot it outside.”

I slid my boots back on and hustled out to the bike, where I had stashed a pint of chocolate ice cream for my woman on the way home from the club. I grinned as I hurried back in, taking my boots off again before I set one foot on the carpet.

Becks was adamant about no shoes in the house, and I had to agree. Anyone would, once they though about it. Especially with the little ones underfoot. We already had one baby crawling around and putting every damn thing in her mouth. Plus, it cut down on the need to sweep, mop, and vacuum.

Not to mention, I liked seeing my girl’s cute little toes.

My Becks was full of ideas.

She was a dynamo. Even pregnant and sleepy, she did more than most people did in a day. She was in nursing school part-time and I couldn’t be prouder. Sure, she was frustrated that it was going to take her twice as long to make it through the program and start working, but I told her it was okay to slow down.

She couldn’t handle that class load with a bun in the oven. Soon, we would have two little ones underfoot. It was better to take her time and do things right. By the time she was finished, the kids would be ready for school, part-time at first, but I could handle the drop offs and pick ups. I had it all planned out, I told her. She’d reluctantly agreed to go part-time, and a good thing too, considering how many naps the woman was taking.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” I held up the pint and she glared at me. “How about a kiss?”

She narrowed her eyes for a second and then whoosh, there was my pretty girl, smiling at me and offering up those sexy lips for a kiss. I held her tight, her hard belly pressing into me.

“You didn’t forget.”

“I didn’t forget.”

I squeezed her bottom and breathed into her ear before biting it.

“You want to thank me now, or later?”

“Later!”

She grabbed the ice cream and swooshed into the kitchen. So much for having a quickie before ice cream. I chuckled as I followed her in, taking off my jacket and grabbing a bottle of water. We filtered our own and used refillable bottles. It wasn’t all that hard once you got the hang of it.

My woman was very concerned about the environment, as well as all of our health. She even had me taking a multivitamin and skipping meat a couple of days a week! I had to admit, I didn’t really mind Meatless Mondays. She made everything fun.

I sat down across from her, watching her dig into her ice cream. She moaned in ecstasy at the first bite. I hadn’t worried about keeping it cold. She liked it when it started to go soft.

“Nice and melty, right?”

She nodded happily and took another bite. I knew my woman. I chuckled to myself, pulling off my jacket.

“You’re never going to guess what happened.”

“What?”

“Never in a million years.”

“Omg, what, Whiskey? Tell me already!”

She was getting cranky, even with the chocolate. She was pretty far along, so I cut her a lot of slack. Plus, I thought she was cute when she was cranky.

“Callaway met someone.”

Her eyebrows shot up. She stared at me, a spoonful of chocolate ice cream paused in midair.

“Someone?”

“A girl.”

“He meets girls all the time.”

“No, not a club girl. A civilian.”

Her eyes got even wider.

“And?”

“And she blew him off.”

“You’re joking. I thought Callaway never got turned down.”

“He doesn’t. He doesn’t even have to try. Or ask.”

“But this time . . . ?”

“He asked. Apparently, he asked her out on a date.”

“Who is this girl? I feel like we should give her a medal. Or a parade.”

“Cal said she’s real sweet. She works at the nursing home his gran is in. He said . . .”

“What?”

I hesitated a minute and then forged ahead.

“She’s a virgin.”

“Callaway and a virgin?”

I nodded. My woman sputtered at me. Then she sat back in her chair and started giggling. She held the spoon aloft, the ice cream forgotten for the moment.

“Poor Cal. Oh my goodness, that is too much. How’s he taking it?”

“Not good. He’s a mess.”

“What else? What’s she like?”

“He said she’s a good girl. She’s got a lot on her shoulders.”

“And she didn’t like all the tats?”

“No. She liked him, tats and all. But she has two jobs and her brother’s in the nursing home. She doesn’t have time to date.”

“Wow. And he’s onboard with signing up for all that? Wait!” She gave me a suspicious look. “Does she have fake boobs?”