The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)(92)

“I know where it is,” Pipe yells. “It’s at the garage where it fucking belongs.”

“When I have a fucking heart attack and drop dead, it’s your ass I’m haunting,” Wolf grounds out as the door opens and Linc walks in with a man carrying a box.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“The florist.” Linc points his thumb toward the man staring at the clubhouse in horror.” I checked him out, the only thing this motherfucker has is wire and a fancy pair of sheers. Says he needs them to cut the stems and all that shit, isn’t that right?”

“What the hell did you people do? Balloons?” He drops the box onto one of the tables and grabs one of the balloons off the floor, popping it with his hands.

“Is this fucker kidding me?” Wolf bellows. “You got any idea how much wind was in that thing?”

“Who hired you?”

“Clearly, the bride,” the florist deadpans. “Is that a trellis?” He questions pointing to the thing Pipe was stringing the lights on. I should mention that the lights weren’t those little white lights people hang on everything, these were the old school Christmas lights. They were the colorful, big fat ones we hung from the gutters when we were kids.

I shrug my shoulders, pushing off the bar and make my way toward the man. I place my arm around his shoulders and pat him on the back.

“Reina hired you to make this place look nice, you do that, make it look real pretty in here,” I say, reaching into my pocket, pulling out a couple of bills, and shove them into his hands. “And add some sunflowers to the place.”

“But that isn’t on the order,” he argues.

“Make a new order,” I demand, smiling at him. “Make it happen flower boy.”

Turning back to the bar I pour myself a drink, I lift my eyes as the door opens again and Lacey strolls in with Blackie on her tail. I pause, hand wrapped tight around the neck of the bottle as I drink my little girl in. Her heels had to be at least six inches, strappy things that decorated her calves. She was wearing an off the shoulder, black lace, cocktail dress and her hair was windblown—wild from being on the back of Blackie’s bike. My eyes dart to him and I catch him staring at her ass.

“For fuck’s sake, you put her on the back of your bike dressed like that?” I seethe, shaking my head. To hell with the fucking glass, I take a swig straight from the bottle. My daughter smiles widely as she reaches for the bottle and wraps her arms loosely around my neck.

“You’re not allowed to be a grump on your wedding day,” she says, pressing a smacking kiss to my cheek as I wrap my arms around her and hug her tightly, keeping my eyes on Blackie.

“I’m with Lace.”

“Of course you are, you don’t want me to strangle you,” I tease.

“Then you’d have no best man,” he retorts, smiling back at me.

Lacey pulls back, turning slightly, so she is standing in between me and Blackie.

“First of all I insisted we go on the bike and I also insisted I get dressed before we leave so I can help Reina,” she points out. “He just goes along with what I say,”

“She wears the leather around here,” Blackie jokes, grabbing her around the waist and pressing her back against his front.

“Lost your balls, did you?” I raise an eyebrow and turn my gaze toward Lacey. “Anyone ever tell you you’re hard headed?”

“I wonder where I get that from,” she laughs.

“Have no idea what you’re talking about, Lace,” I say innocently, winking at her before turning my attention back to Blackie. “You have the ring, right?”

“Shit,” he mutters.

“You had one fucking job—”

“I’ve got the ring,” he interrupts, flashing me a smile as he runs his hands over his cut, patting his pockets before reaching inside and producing a tiny, black, velvet box. I take it from his hands, flip up the top and stare at the custom wedding band designed with two rows of canary yellow diamonds.

Sunshine.

Always.

Lacey leans over my shoulder to get a peek at the ring, a smile spreading wide across her face as she stares at it.

“Wow, it’s beautiful Dad,” she says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Reina’s going to love it.”

I hope so.

I take the ring between my fingers, pull it out of the box to turn it over to inspect the band. There engraved into the gold are the two words that sum up our relationship.

You.

Me.

Lifting my eyes to Blackie, I crack a smile and tip my chin.

“Thanks for getting it done,” I say.

“What’s a best man good for if he can’t pick up a ring?” He slaps my shoulder, leaning forward to press a kiss to Lacey’s cheek. “I’m going to make a quick run, check things out and get a handle on this hair,” he points to his wild locks, looking to me and giving me a look. Words may not have been spoken, but they were reflected in his eyes.

Going to check out the security on the property.

I got you, brother.

“Don’t you dare touch the hair,” Lacey orders, cocking her head to the side. “I mean comb it, maybe tie it back but if you so much as cut a centimeter of it—”

“Don’t you worry, girl. I know you like it…” His eyes turn to mine and he smiles sheepishly leaving the rest of his answer on his tongue. Smart fucking man.