“Including Johnnie,” Zoann said. “As far as I can see, he seems pretty taken with Meggie’s little dress.”
“Omigod, you two!” Megan huffed out a breath. “Shut up. Johnnie doesn’t care what I’m wearing. Kendall looks pretty awesome in her pants suit.”
Bailey went to a bar stool and sat, crossing her legs, bared in denim cutoffs. “Let’s not argue. We were discussing the possibility of christenings for Rebel, Rule, and Ryder, and enjoying our fabulous drink.”
“What fuckin’ christenins?” Christopher asked, not knowing about anything where he’d have to go into church.
“The twins were born when Sharper was on the loose and Ryder is only a few months old. None of them have been christened,” Megan reminded him. “We should change that.”
That meant he had to deal with Wilcunt. While the little assfuck wasn’t as much of an assfuck with his honorary membership, Christopher still preferred not fucking with him.
“What drink you had, pretty girl?” Mort asked, leering at Bailey’s legs.
“Pink Panties,” Bailey answered, her green-brown eyes brighter than normal.
Mort snickered. “Pink Drawers got you lit?”
“Pink Panties, Antichrist,” Zoann corrected. “Vodka, cool whip, and pink lemonade.”
Val squinted his eyes. “Fuck, Puff, you kind of tipsy, too, huh?”
As Zoann nodded, Christopher studied Megan. The clarity in her eyes told him she hadn’t tasted the concoction. She liked creating new drinks, but he couldn’t remember her ever indulging. Kendall sat next to Bailey and reached for one of the glasses Zoann had poured vodka into. Taking a glass, she polished off the liquor.
“Matilda needs to be christened, too,” Kendall announced, holding out her glass so Zoann could pour more vodka into it.
Megan took a seat at the closest table. “Let’s plan to have a quadruple christening then.”
“No.” Kendall sat her still-empty glass on the bar. “We don’t have to celebrate all of Matilda and Ryder’s milestones together because they share birthdays.”
“Suit yourself,” Megan said as Johnnie straightened.
“We should at least consider the idea,” he said to his wife, who shook her head.
Christopher grabbed his tequila and swigged from it. “When you thinkin’ about havin’ this, baby?”
“In a few weeks.”
Irritation surged over Kendall’s face, but Stretch bringing Cash a bottle of beer interrupted whatever she’d been about to say, as Fee sent longing glances to Cash.
If Christopher confronted either Cash or Fee, they’d deny it. Of course, his boys would fucking say he was being a pussy for not just blowing Cash the fuck away. He’d once told Megan no motherfucker stayed the same. That everybody fucking grew and evolved. He’d done more growing and evolving since meeting Megan than at any other time in his life.
She’d mellowed him out. Even now, when he was sure he had fucking proof that Cash disobeyed him, he wasn’t as murderously angry as he once would’ve been. If Cash had really pulled the stunt with Daphne to cover a meeting with Fee, then, yeah, Christopher would have to kill him. At the moment, though, he had much more important matters at hand.
Like that fucking card Daphne claimed he gave to her.
“How would I look with blonde hair?” Kendall’s question brought conversation to a fucking halt. “The color of Meggie’s.”
“Like a fucking idiot,” Zoann grumbled.
Kendall glared at Zoann and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’ve always heard blondes have more fun.”
Wrinkling her nose, Fee cleared her throat. “Your red hair is very pretty.”
“I agree,” Bailey said. “We’ve said that to you often enough, Kendall.”
“What do you think, Meggie?” Kendall pressed.
Squeezing the bridge of his nose, Johnnie sighed.
“It’s your hair, Kendall,” Megan told her. “Color it purple if it makes you happy.”
“Really, Meggie?” Kendall slurred. “You’re pouting with me like a fucking child. Remind me why again. Oh, that’s right. You think I have something to do with the card Outlaw gave to Daphne. Anything other than blaming him. Is it your guilt for not supporting my quest to return to the law firm making you believe I should retaliate? Remember I didn’t start this. Cash, Daphne, and Outlaw did.”
“Don’t bring Cash into this,” Fee snapped. “Christopher has beat him up enough. Next time he’ll kill him.”
Horror washed over Cash’s face at Fee defending him. His guilty look further solidified Christopher’s suspicions.