Claimed By The Devil (Devil's Riders 8)

Chapter Forty-Seven

Mac

“It's definitely going to take at least a couple of weeks to fix this up,” I said, looking around the airstream. The hard exterior was in good shape, but the interior needed a lot of work. We'd had it towed to Honeycutt Stables the day before.

Jack grunted his agreement and Whiskey hid a smile. We all knew that Nick was going out of his mind. He didn't have a good place to be with his woman. They were trying to sleep together every night in a twin bed. ‘Trying’ being the important distinction. Among other things.

There was no way to comfortably fuck in a twin bed, though damned if I wouldn’t have given it my best shot under the same circumstances.

All of us were over here, ready to help the guy out.

"Weeks," he echoed miserably.

"At least. Maybe longer,” I said, really rubbing it in. Whiskey ruined the effect by letting out a loud guffaw.

"No, man. We can knock this out in a couple of days and then look at the plans for the house." He looked around and smiled. "This will be great if you guys want to come down and chill at the lake for more than a day or two."

Nick nodded, looking relieved. We all knew he was not having the best time trying to hump in a twin bed. Well, he was definitely not as pent up as he was before, but it made it hard to get creative.

A big guy like him needed room to spread out to really do his work properly. I should know. I needed all kinds of space to properly tend to my woman.

"Dev already said he'd sell me one of the smaller lots. I thought we could hook up sewer and water and an outdoor shower."

Jack's giant hand slammed down on Nick shoulder. I always laughed when he did that. The big guy had to know that he was stronger and larger than almost everyone except Whiskey and Moose. The man was pretty much a giant. But he'd been subdued lately, spending almost all of his time with his wife and kids. Janet had finally sent him over because she said she needed him out of her hair for a few hours.

"Let's get to it," the mountain rumbled. When Jack spoke, everybody listened, and not just because he was second in command. He just had an air of authority about him. And you knew down to your bones that he had your best interests in mind. He was one of the best human beings I had ever known, which was funny because he was also the most physically menacing person I had ever known.

Jack was the perfect example of not judging a book by its cover.

We started tearing out the old kitchenette, the booth and benches that folded down, and even the walls and floors. We were careful to keep every bit of hardware so we could reuse it, especially the pieces that hinged all the movable parts and the shiny chrome that was original to the camper. We also planned to use some of the old rotted wood to make templates for the new built-ins, with some upgrades and creativity, of course.

“Suzannah brought some stuff by?” Nick asked, looking out the window after we’d been at it for a few hours. We were sweating our asses off in what was basically a fancy ass tin can, with just a box fan going in one of the open windows.

“Yeah, she thought some flowers would brighten up the front. And she brought something special for Meg’s grave.”

Nick nodded.

“She’s a good friend to Melissa. It means a lot to me.”

I slapped his back in a poor imitation of Jack.

“She’s family,” I said with a serious look. But then I grinned. “The girls are all relieved to have you off the market. They thought you would never settle down.”

Nick laughed and shook his head.

“No way, man. That’s Drake. I was waiting for her. I just didn’t know it yet.”

“Weren’t we all waiting on them to show up, man? Weren’t we all?” I mused.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Whiskey shouted from the other end of the camper. Just then, Melissa and Suzannah appeared wearing aprons and gardening gloves. My woman looked gorgeous and somehow adorably unkempt all at once. Melissa waved at Nick through the window.

“Aww, young love,” I said dryly. But Nick just grinned.

“You guys ready for a cold one?”

We all nodded, and Nick ran out of there to help Melissa and Suzannah bring out some beers and a cold ginger ale for Jack. We were shocked when he took a tallboy instead.

“Everything okay, big guy?”

It was funny for Whiskey to use that nickname, but we were all wondering the same thing. The big man didn’t drink.

He just shook his head.

“I’d have to drink a whole fucking keg to feel it.”