36. Butch
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
BUTCH
N ine in the morning is a late start for going over mission details. But it is what it is.
Chase had a conflict with our normal six o’clock meeting and we rearranged the agenda to accommodate his late arrival. Instead, Candy’s self-defense training was moved up to the first thing on the schedule. The two hours of working out went by fast and everyone has showered, ready to start the meeting. Yet, here we sit and no Chase.
I lean over to Ziggy, whispering, “Do you know what the holdup is?”
“Not a clue. All he told me was he had an important appointment off-site.”
Interesting. Chase is usually transparent with everything. The lack of info he provided seems intentional. “I wonder where he is?”
As if called on cue, Chase comes speed-walking into the conference room with a Cheshire Cat smile adorning his face. Simone is a couple paces behind him, huffing to keep up in her heels and looking rather frazzled—not her usual polished, composed self. Then again, it doesn’t take much effort from Chase to work her into a tizzy .
Punk taunts his best friend upon his arrival. “Tardy much, jackass?”
Chase chuckles at something hilarious only to him. “Not sure who this jackass is you’re referring to. Just call me daddy.”
Candy scrunches her little nose. “Not to kink shame, but we’re not interested in Simone’s bedroom name for you.”
Simone groans, shaking her head at the ceiling.
“Sorry I’m late,” Chase continues, unbothered. He motions between him and Simone. “We just got back from the doctor’s office.”
“Why were you at the doctor’s office?” Atlas asks, concern coating his deep voice. He eyes the couple, getting up from his chair to move around the conference table toward them. “Is everything okay?”
“All is great,” Chase informs him. “We just needed confirmation from the doc.”
“Chase,” Simone chastises in a warning tone. “Don’t you dare. We agreed at the doctor’s office to not announce it for a few more weeks.”
Her husband spins around to face her, his smile growing bigger as he holds up his tatted crossed fingers. “I lied. There’s no way I can keep this to myself. We gotta share the good news.”
The blue vein in Simone’s temple pulses angrily against her ivory skin. “Chase, I swear to God?—”
Before she can finish her threat, Chase pivots his attention back to the crew. He looks so damn thrilled, bouncing in place with his man bun flopping about.
“We’re pregnant!” Chase hollers, raising his fists above his head in victory.
The room explodes into cheer, everyone jumping out of their chairs to rush Chase. Well, everyone aside from Piero. He remains seated, holding up his tiny espresso cup like he’s toasting the new parents. Apparently, he’s too suave to dog-pile on our biker brother.
We all know how eager Chase was to start a family with Simone. Outside of getting hitched to her, this was his dream. There’s not a guy more deserving of fatherhood than our brother.
My woman slaps her knees, laughing, as she rises from her seat to give Simone a tight hug. “Congratulations, mama. Better you than me.”
“Better them than us,” I second, giving Candy a wink as I give Chase a big back-slapping hug.
Simone rubs her temples. “I’m going to kill him.”
Atlas’s shoulders shake with silent laughter as he brings his sister-in-law in for a comforting embrace. “Secrets don’t last long in this family, sis. It was going to come out, eventually.”
“Waiting until after the first trimester wouldn’t have killed him,” she grumbles back.
“Please tell me Josephine knows? I don’t want her getting mad at me for finding out first.”
“Yeah, Jo knows. But our parents don’t know yet.”
Atlas chuckles, kissing the top of her sandy blond head. “Well, they will soon if they didn’t hear Chase yelling. Word travels fast in the club.”
Simone sighs, resigned to her fate of having a compulsive biker husband.
“If it’s a boy, you’ll name your baby after his favorite uncle, right?” Punk asks Chase. “After all, I’m your best friend, and Simone is my adopted sister—a family name should be used.”
“You already have a nephew named after you,” Atlas reminds Punk.
He shakes his shaved head. “No, that’s my nephew, Easton. I’m talking about this new nephew being named Punk.”
Simone scoffs. “Like hell I’m naming my son Punk.”
“Why not? Punk’s a fine name—it’s got character.”
“Maybe bad character,” Simone mutters.
“Hey!” Punk pouts. “Fine. Just don’t use any uppity names, like Charles or some shit. Promise me, Chase, you won’t let her give your kid a preppy name. ”
Chase is squatting in front of Simone, drawing a heart on her nonexistent baby belly, and already completely enamored with his family. “Whatever name we decide, it will be perfect for him or her.” He looks up at Simone with a wicked smile, his lip ring glinting in the light. “Or maybe one of both?”
Simone blanches, her brow breaking out into a sweat. She points a finger at Chase in warning. “Do not even think it. Whatever spellcasting you used to get me knocked up this fast is limited to one baby. ONE, Chase.”
“But you’re so much like your sister,” Chase points out, his voice full of hope. “There’s no fighting the Holland genetics.”
“Just don’t compare her to a broodmare again,” Candy reminds Chase nonchalantly.
I snort, damn near choking. “A what?”
“You weren’t there,” Ziggy answers for her. “It didn’t go over well, if you’re wondering.”
“No shit.” I can’t imagine it would. Chase certainly likes to press all his wife’s buttons.
“Hey, asshat,” Gauge says, grabbing Chase’s attention. “If you think she’s a handful now, best watch out. Those hormones go turbo during pregnancy. Insult her like that again and she may follow through on her threats.”
Rising to his feet, Chase swings his arm haphazardly around his wife’s shoulder. “Good to know. I’ll hide all the cutlery.”
Simone harrumphs, cocking her hip. “Excuse me? I’m right here! Stop talking like I’ll snap.”
Atlas has to cover his laugh with his giant hand, shaking his head at his brother-in-law. “It’s already starting. You’re toast, dude.”
The crew cackles, ribbing Chase. But in all seriousness, we couldn’t be happier for him. He’s going to be one hell of a dad. And with Simone as his or her mom, the kid may have a chance of not turning as feral as Chase.
“So, like, is the kid going to be living at headquarters?” Candy asks, trying not to appear obvious .
I already know what my woman is thinking. Babies are loud. Let’s hope the soundproof walls will be enough to drown out the noise. Otherwise, I may need to ask Jo to build us a home sooner rather than later. Candy and I enjoy our peace too much to give up.
“Definitely not,” Simone responds, thumbing Chase. “I deserve a house on the grounds of marrying this Neanderthal.”
“Jo is already working on the blueprints,” Chase adds, giving his wife a tight squeeze. “We’re breaking ground in the spring across from Prez and Jo’s house, and we’ll move in before the baby, or babies arrive.”
Simone side-eyes her husband. “Baby. As in one.”
Chase shrugs, smirking proudly. “Or two.”
“Well, shucks,” Candy feigns disappointment. “We’ll miss you not living in the big house.”
“Absolutely,” I say, nodding in agreement. We’ll miss them, yet we’re happy to not lose any sleep over crying babies. “At least you’ll be next door—close to the family.”
Before the new parents see us snickering, we pull back to let the others move in to congratulate them. We give each other a discreet fist bump, pleased as punch headquarters will remain a childfree zone.