Rock Chick Revolution (Rock Chick #8)(74)

His eyes moved over my face and his face had the look.

My insides got warmer.

Then he stated, “It’s not necessary you convert, Ally. But it’s important to me that my kids are raised in the faith.”

“Wouldn’t it be important, to raise kids in the faith, that I knew about said faith at the very least, but better, practiced it?” I asked, and the look intensified so my insides got melty.

“You’d do that?” he whispered.

“I don’t know. Is here an initiation ceremony where I have to drink blood of the calf or something?” I asked and he grinned.

Then he answered, “No.”

“Okay,” I replied. “Then maybe you can set it up so I can talk to somebody.”

He dropped his head so his forehead touched mine, all the while muttering, “Fuckin’ f*ck me.”

That meant a lot to him.

I loved that. I loved that I gave that to him.

But I didn’t tell him that.

I shared, “I’m obviously no expert, but my guess is the Pope frowns on the f-bomb, Zano.”

I saw his eyes smile.

Then I didn’t see anything because he was kissing me, slow and sweet.

Then he did other things to me slow and sweet that I wasn’t sure the Vatican approved of.

Much later, drowsy, sated, happy, my man’s arms around me, his body curled into me spooning, I decided we’d had a good day without anything exploding and another day without us fighting (so far, a record). Further, his breath was evening, which meant he was heading toward sleep.

So I’d tell him tomorrow about my plans for the future that didn’t have to do with me discussing conversion with a priest.

Chapter Fifteen

I’m Good at What I Do

Ren moved to the sink, dropped his plate in it and moved to me sitting on the counter.

He pulled my coffee mug out of my hand and set it on the counter. Then he pulled my legs apart and moved between them. With a hand at my ass, he yanked me close.

His face dipped to mine and his voice was sweet when he noted, “You got lots of bags upstairs, baby.”

“Yep,” I agreed.

“You got a dress for me?” he asked.

“Yep,” I repeated, and this was true. Roxie, Tod and Stevie bought me four of them and they were all smokin’ hot.

“Good. Date night tonight.”

I grinned.

Ren kissed me.

Then he kissed my neck.

After that, he let me go and on a, “Later, honey,” and walked to and through the front door.

I watched.

Smiling.

* * * * *

It was mid-morning when the bell over the door rang.

I was in Fortnum’s with Indy, Jet, Tex and Jane. Stella and Mace were also there, both of them at the counter. Stella was shooting the shit and sipping a latte. Mace was being silent and badass as he held his woman in a casual-but-affectionate embrace at his side.

Duke had not showed. I told myself this wasn’t because he was avoiding me, but because he’d hopped on his Harley with his wife Dolores for an impromptu ride of the Rockies.

However, even as I told myself this, I wasn’t very convincing.

Everyone looked to the door to see Tod walking in carrying two big thick scrapbooks.

One was stuffed full with copious pieces of paper and fabric swatches protruding from the sides. The other one looked new.

The first was Ava’s wedding planner.

The second, seeing as she’d only been engaged for a little over three weeks, was Sadie’s.

Tod was a drag queen and a flight attendant. He was also the unofficially-official wedding planner to all the Rock Chicks. This meant a lot of headache, arguments, browbeating and unnecessary powwows sprinkled with a few hissy fits.

It also meant every single Rock Chick had the wedding of her dreams that went off without a hitch.

Nevertheless, Tod, with the planners in tow, did not bode good things.

The door closed behind him and his eyes came to me.

“Good to see you alive, girlie,” he called.

“Good to be alive, Tod,” I called back.

“Do me a favor,” he kept talking loudly, “stay alive until Saturday. And a call to the bomb squad to do a sweep of the church and function room would come in handy.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” I heard Mace mutter, and I looked to him to see his expression was serious.

Then again, the way things were, he and Tod were right.

“I thought we had the final read through of Ava’s shindig last weekend, Tod,” Indy noted, moving his way.

Tod dumped the books on a table and looked at her. “That was the final read through. Now we’re having the final final read through. And tomorrow, before the rehearsal, we’re finalizing the final final read through. But also now, we’re deciding Sadie’s wedding colors.”

Indy looked around the store and then back at Tod in order to point out the obvious. “Sadie isn’t here.”

“I know, she’s busy at the gallery,” Tod replied, slapping open the smaller album and I saw a plethora of colors on the page. But he said no more.

With experience of the planning stages of Tod organizing a wedding, it was understandable that Indy’s tone was cautious when she stated, “Honey, we can’t pick Sadie’s wedding colors without Sadie here.”