Misfit (Death Dwellers MC #6) (86 page)

Stretch frowned at the charred chicken sitting on top of half-cooked dough. Exchanging a glance with Fee as they sat in Cash’s living room, he scowled.

“What the fuck is this, Cash?”

“Um, barbeque chicken pizza,” Fee said under her breath, before pressing her lips together to hold back a grin.

“You two want me domesticated. Take it or leave it,” Cash growled.

Stretch sat his plate on the table as Cash grabbed a beer and Fee rested against the sofa. After the delicious pizza Fee had cooked, Stretch had been looking forward to the same from Cash when Stretch called and told him his plane was an hour behind schedule.

“Fine, babe,” Cash had said. “That’ll give me time to run to the grocery store for dinner.”

“Fee’s cooking?”

“No, asshole. I am.”

Stretch hadn’t believed Cash’s indignant words. However…seeing was fucking believing. Cash
had
cooked. More’s the pity. After a long fucking flight and a lot of information during his time in New York, Stretch regretted not following his instinct and picking up Chinese on his way in.

“Do you have anything in the freezer, Cash?” Fee asked, crossing her legs. She had a pretty pink polish on her toenails, drawing Stretch’s eye to her ankles and up her legs, making him wonder what she wore underneath her little skirt. “I’ll whip up something for us.”

“I have vodka and bourbon in my freezer,” Cash replied, swigging from his bottle. “If you can make something from that, go for it, sweetheart.”

Fee rolled her eyes and shifted, her movements driving Stretch a little insane. He didn’t think she was tempting him on purpose, but she sat so relaxed in the little skirt and tight sweater. After being away for a week, he wanted her.

“Do you have pasta?” she asked.

Cash shrugged from his end of the sofa. Nowadays, they all shared the couch. Cash had abandoned his solitary chair, in favor of this new arrangement, with Fee between them. As a matter of fact, they were doing a lot together lately. “In the cabinet, but it has to be cooked.”

“Let’s hope you don’t keep cooked spaghetti in a fucking cabinet,” Stretch murmured.

“Fuck off,” Cash bit out. “Instead of being so fucking sarcastic, why don’t you share with us what you’ve decided?”

“Maybe, because he’s hungry like me,” Fee guessed.

“Cook some other time,” Cash suggested, holding up his phone. “Let’s order from the sandwich shop. While we wait for delivery, we can talk.”

“Okay,” Fee and Stretch chorused.

Because they always ordered the same items from the place, Cash didn’t have to wait for a menu review before calling in the order.

Grabbing another beer from his lineup, he leaned back. “So what’ve you decided?”

Curling against him, Fee slid her hand through the crook of his arm. “Yeah, spill, babe. We want to know.”

Stretch squeezed Fee’s hand, then regarded Cash. “Right,” he said, smiling with satisfaction. “As you guys know, I’ve always had my own doctor, but Zoann did some researching on my behalf. In my opinion, I’ve found a miracle worker. Dr. Walker’s an acclaimed orthopedic surgeon and the best qualified to do the type of repairs I need.”

“Will the surgery lesson your pain?” Fee asked, stealing Cash’s beer and sipping from it.

“For the most part,” Stretch answered, grinning at Cash’s scowl. He snatched his beer back, finished it off, and smirked at Fee. Those two acted worse than children sometimes. Of course, Fee felt the same way about him and Cash. “I keep wondering how it’ll feel to be free of pain.”

“Quit wondering and get it done!” Fee ordered.

“Yeah, about that. Surgery’s already scheduled. It’s in two weeks.”

“What?” Cash and Fee chorused.

“You’re just telling us now, Woo Woo?” Cash snapped, slamming his bottle on the table and glaring at him.

“Yes, Stretch, anything can go wrong,” Fee admonished. “You two should be married before that happens.”

“What did you say?” Stretch managed, so surprised by her words he couldn’t move, and Cash froze altogether.

Sure he’d misheard, Cash stared at Fee. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

You know what she means
.

He certainly did, but why did his heart start to pound at the prospect? Why did long buried dreams suddenly come to life? This wasn’t supposed to happen. If he’d run from Fee when she mentioned marriage, shouldn’t he run from the same idea with Stretch, too?

Fee grabbed his hand in one of her own and Stretch’s in the other, then joined them together on her lap. She covered their hands with one of her own.

“We have a lot to work out,” she said softly. “I’m ready for us to move together. Find a way to legally tie each other together, but you know what? You two are meant to be married.”

“Ophelia—” Cash started, attempting to pull his hand away.

Even before Stretch tightened his hold, Fee stopped Cash.

“You love him, Cash. You love me, too. I know you do, but this is the right thing to do. All along I’ve seen what you were to one another.”

Intending to deny her, Cash looked at Stretch, and saw all he needed to know. All he’d ever wanted but had been too fucking stubborn to admit. They had their woman, just as they’d always wanted. And they had each other, as they’d always dreamed.

“There’s no fucking way,” Cash said, thinking of the club. Outlaw might’ve laid down the law, but Cash couldn’t see him marrying Stretch going over well. “I’m a biker. Stretch’s a biker.”

“Who has to know?” she said. “Just out family and us. But you should marry. You deserve this.”

Was this a fucking setup? All along she’d been gung-ho on
her
marrying a motherfucker. Suddenly, it was okay for him and Stretch to marry.

“I love you both enough to want this for you,” she said. “As long as I have my children, I’m at peace knowing you two are finding the happiness you deserve. With each other.”

“When did this come about?” he sneered, going into asshole mode.

“Tonight. Now. Sitting here with you two.”

Just as he suspected. He shook his head. “You’re going to regret this.”

“No, I won’t. I’m at peace,” she reiterated.

“I agree with Cash, Fee,” Stretch finally said, the light in his eyes dimming slightly.

Cash hadn’t known he’d ever thought about marriage to him, but based on his reaction he had.

“Don’t,” Fee insisted. “I can see you want this with him. Don’t deny yourself.”

“I do,” Stretch admitted without hesitation. “But I’d never considered such a prospect. It was an impossible goal.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” she said fiercely. “You shouldn’t give up your dreams for no one.”

“Says the girl whose giving up hers,” Cash snapped.

“I’m not. I’m amending mine. I’ve always wanted a family. Marriage was a dream, but our love is enough for me. Our
children
,” she stressed.

Could they really do this? Did he really want this?

“Cash,” Fee whispered. “Will you marry Stretch and spend the rest of your life making him happy?”

Cash laughed at Fee’s words—they sounded so fucking absurd—but nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak, swearing he felt moisture in his eyes.

She looked at Stretch. “Stretch, will you marry Cash and spend the rest of your life making him happy?”

“Yes,” Stretch said in all seriousness, before covering Fee’s hand with his free one. “As long as you’re right with us.”

She smiled. “Just try and get rid of me. Now, kiss. We have a wedding to plan.”