“A bullet to the back of the head is good enough for me, as long as he's gone,” rumbles Bear. “Nice and neat.”
“Guys!” They finally stop to look at me. “Can we stop it with the killing for a bit?”
My phone dings again. Crap.
Alessa. I want you at the tower. Tonight. This shit isn't gonna cut it. You don't fucking ignore me.
There must be something about my expression, because Viking snags the phone out of my hands so he can look. “You're not fucking going.”
“Of course not, but I have to answer him or he’ll just get worse.”
“Fuck no. We're staying at the apartment. You're not going any-fucking-where tonight.” He hands back the phone, then crosses his arms over his chest menacingly. “Tell him what you think you have to, but if that motherfucker thinks he can threaten you, we'll show him exactly how fucking wrong he is. You’re ours.”
Theirs. “And why do you have any more right to say that than him?”
Viking leans in close. “Because you came to us willingly. You put your body in our hands, and you chose to have our baby. You could’ve walked away, but you didn’t. You’re ours because you made yourself ours. Unless you’re holding back, that fucker doesn’t have shit on you.”
Bear nods. “We’re not good men, Alessa, but we’re yours now. Get used to it.”
Their words send a tingle down my spine. “He doesn't know about the apartment. He won't go here.”
“We don't care.” Bear's dangerous tone is completely at odds with how gently he holds Izzy, but it's final. I'm getting bodyguards whether I want them or not. “We're staying.”
It's like trying to argue with a wall. Two walls. And honestly, I don’t want to argue. Having them around makes me feel safer. I can think of worse things than sitting at home with two sexy, overprotective bikers. “Alright, which one of you big strong men wants to push her in the swing and wear her out? I’ll order lasagna and have Bea pick it up on her way home. There isn’t enough food for everyone in the fridge.”
Viking talks over my head to Bear as we walk to the playground. “I guess that’s the bright side with Mafia girls. So much Italian food.”
“I can barely cook.”
Bear grins. He's still got Izzy resting on his strong arm, seeming to enjoy seeing the world from a bird's eye view. “You don’t need to. You’re our little Italian snack.”
“You guys are ridiculous.”
Viking laughs. “You're right. You’re the whole main course.” They both look over at me like they’re starving.
12
ALESSA
Izzy zonks out on the way home, and goes down for her nap without a peep after a quick feed. When I return to the living room, the guys are waiting for me. There's an open bottle of red wine on the coffee table and three glasses poured. I guess they raided the wine fridge. Bea and I aren't old enough, legally, but there’s been wine on the table at home practically since we were kids.
“I never pegged you guys for wine drinkers.”
“Why? Don’t think we’re classy enough?” Bear grins. “We didn't find any moonshine, so we improvised. For fancy grapes, this ain't bad.” He takes a swig.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean… Maybe I did a little. I actually haven’t had any since before Izzy.”
Viking blinks. “Oh, fuck. We forgot about the whole milk thing. Is that bad?”
“She just nursed, so not really I guess. I just haven’t had much to celebrate.”
“Then let’s change that.” Bear says, holding out the third glass.
With them around I could do with a little fortification and I've got a couple of backup bottles in the fridge, just in case. I take a sip and enjoy the bite of it. “Thanks.”
Viking throws one arm over the back of the chair, making his already broad chest seem even broader. Bear's still dressed, but he looks like he's going to bust out of his clothes any second. His black T-shirt strains to keep his massive pecs contained. They're looking at me like they're still considering eating Italian. At least this Italian.
“Where's your roommate?” asks Bear as his arm comes down around my back to pull me closer to him. His question is innocent enough, but there's a charge in the air, and I'm sure he's got ulterior motives. Just like him and Snark last time, and if Bea hadn't come home then, well…
“Bea? She's out with some friends.” I take another sip, unsure how much of an opening I want to give them. They’ve all made it ridiculously clear that anytime I want a repeat of our first night, they’re down for it. It’s a little overwhelming, but it’s sure good for making me feel appreciated. And that feels really nice. It's been a long time, and I still have wet dreams about the first time.