“You forgot to let him ask who gave her away, fool.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Digger looked at Bunny, who didn’t seem too fucking heartbroken. “Let’s do it over from where I took you from him.”
“Absolutely not,” Father Wilkins said. “I refuse to allow you to desecrate the sanctity of marriage with your nonsense.”
Bunny frowned at Father Wilkins, the happiness on her face dissolving.
“If you make her cry, I’ma have to shoot the fuck outta you,” Christopher growled. “She a pregnant bitch and pregnant bitches cry for every-fuckin-thing.”
Digger hugged her. “He didn’t mean nothing, Bunny.”
“I thought this would be fun,” she said. “Not nonsense.”
“It ain’t, babe,” Christopher said in a hurry, before the other girls saw Bunny’s distress and came running to her. Then, that would delay the ceremony and him getting to Megan. “Your shit perfect.” He glared at Wilcunt. “Just when I think you kinda cool, you fuck up. If you don’t want to be fucked up, tell Bunny her weddin’ fine.”
“Ten grand,” Johnnie coughed out.
“Your wedding is perfect for this crew, Bunny,” Wilcunt said, ignoring Christopher’s glare.”
Digger kissed her. “See? I told you.”
“Okay.”
“Bunny, you could be hula-hooping to kettle drums,” Mort told her. “Digger right. It’s your day. Don’t matter what us motherfuckers think.”
Mort’s words appeased her and she nodded, happy again.
“Thanks, brother,” Digger said, his arms going around Bunny’s waist.
As Wilkins started reading, Digger stole a pinch from Bunny’s ass, then straightened, ignoring their snickers to marry the girl of his dreams.
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?”