Brutal Vows (Queens & Monsters #4)(110)

And she accuses me of being overprotective. This baby might have a rabid wolf for a daddy, but I’m no match for the tiger mama who’ll rip to shreds anyone who even dares to breathe at Reagan the wrong way.

My wife wanted an Irish name for the baby. One that means “little king” just seemed to fit, even though we’re having a girl.

She’s due on Valentine’s Day.

I don’t want to jinx myself, but I think my bad luck has finally turned around.

“What’s that smile for?”

Reyna stands beside me, looking up into my face. Behind her, the room is emptying. I nod to Declan, then frown at the sight of Kage and Massimo sharing a word near the back door. They part, but not before that prick Massimo sends Reyna a withering glare.

Declan was right. Some lads still aren’t living in the twenty-first century.

But if I catch him looking at her like that again, he won’t be living at all.

“Just happy.” I kiss her on the forehead. “Where’s your coat?”

“On that chair.”

“I’ll get it.”

“I’m perfectly capable of walking over there and getting it myself.”

“And I’m perfectly capable of giving you a smack on that fine arse of yours if you don’t stop sassing me.”

She arches her brows and scoffs. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“No, you’re not the boss of me.”

After an amused pause, she goes up onto her toes, presses her breasts against my chest, and whispers into my ear, “I’m sorry, Maximus Aurelius Tiberius…what were you saying?”

I remember the scene we role played last night, and my dick stiffens. I absolutely love it when she blindfolds me, ties me to an immovable object, and playfully tortures me.

“That I’m an idiot,” I reply, my voice thick with desire.

Laughing softly, she kisses me on the cheek. “How I adore it when we agree.”

Encircling her waist with my hands, I say, “I was thinking that tonight Antonia might need to get tied up for a change.”

“Oh, really?” Reyna squeezes my biceps and blinks up at me coyly.

“Aye. Really.”

“Hmm. Let’s see how well you behave yourself at dinner, then we’ll talk.”

“That’s blackmail!”

“No, that’s incentive. And I don’t want poor Sloane having to mop up pools of blood from her dining room floor on Christmas Eve.”

I say, “We already had this talk, wife. Everyone has agreed to be on their best behavior.”

When she eyes me doubtfully, I add, “Like we were at Nat and Kage’s wedding. Remember that? Nobody got shot.”

“What I remember is a ballroom in Manhattan in February barely containing the collective rage of the Bratva and the Mob as they stared at each other across the dance floor like enemy cannibal tribes eager to dine on each other’s flesh.”

I shrug. “Aye. Gangster weddings aren’t exactly Sunday school.”

“You don’t say?”

“Also, that’s a disturbing visual. We don’t eat each other after we kill each other. We’re civilized men.”

“You’re about as civilized as cavemen can get, I’ll give you that much.”

“Thank you.”

Her mermaid eyes sparkle. Her scarlet lips curve up at the edges. “Was it really a compliment, though?”

I chuckle. “Let’s get in the car before we start arguing or we’ll be standing here all night.”

Taking her by the hand, I lead her across the room to the chair her heavy winter coat is draped over. I help her into it, then take her hand again as we walk outside to the car. Kieran waits for us in the parking lot with the SUV’s engine already running. Steam from the tailpipe billows white into the cold night air.

“How’d it go in there?” he asks as we pull off.

I say, “Nobody died.”

“Ach! Success, then. Good to hear it.”

Reyna says to him, “Are we picking up Aria on the way or is she meeting us there?”

“She’s already there. Sent me a pic of her and Sloane in the kitchen. All smiles. Real sweet. Sent a text right after askin’ if I could bring her some antacids.”

Reyna laughs. “I bet she did, the poor thing. Sloane must’ve made her sample some of the appetizers.”

“I’ll never know how such a lovely lass is such a bloody bad cook,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m never really sure if she’s tryin’ to feed me or if she’s havin’ a wee laugh at my expense, watchin’ me try to keep a straight face with a mouthful of rotten twigs.”

“I’m happy Aria flew in from New York to spend Christmas with you, even if she does have to eat rotten twigs.” Reyna turns to me. “Remind me again why we’re not having dinner at our house, Quinn?”

I say drily, “Because you’re renovating the kitchen, viper. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten. It’s costing me a bloody arm and a leg.”

She made it a condition of us moving in together. We thought about building new, but decided to buy a home in Declan and Sloane’s neighborhood that has enough bedrooms for all the future Quinns. What it didn’t have was a kitchen my queen approved of, so I’ve spent the last year living in a construction zone.