Page 95 of Making the King

Cara.

Some local kids run alongside us in front of the shops and restaurants, waving, while a bunch of barely eighteen-year-old girls huddle together, pointing and giggling at Gray and Gunner as we pass.

Rounding the bend, I hear music startup behind us, and I grin, knowing Munroe is holding a speaker out the window of the van. All of Me by John Legend fills the air, and my eyes land on a confused Cara as she stares at us in the middle of the roundabout section up ahead.

Next to her, knowing and giddy, are Sasha, Alana and Rose as they take out zip-loc bags of flower petals and start sprinkling the asphalt around Cara’s feet.

“That was my idea.” Gray chuckles, and I throw my head back, laughing.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me.”

Reaching our destination, Stretch pulls the van over while Munroe keeps the music playing, and me and the others ride in circles around Cara.

“What is going on?!” she calls over the noise, but no one answers her.

After a few laps around her, I point sternly. “Stay right there.”

Her brows shoot up, but she stays put as we park our bikes off to the side, cutting our engines.

“Would someone tell me what’s going on?” Cara giggles in wonder as Alana and Rose dance around her, while Sasha takes photos on her phone.

“Thy highness is getting antsy,” Cain sing-songs as we dismount our bikes, before we reach into our saddlebags and pull out a single red Victor Hugo rose each.

“You ready, big guy?” Munroe asks as he and Stretch join us.

“Who the fuck are you calling big guy?” I smirk, looking up at his towering height and he smirks back.

“I guess I am bigger than everyone… in every department.”

Gray scoffs as he bumps past him. “Your cock is not bigger than mine.”

“Neither’s his fucking ego.” Stretch laughs and we all join in. Even Gray.

“Okay, guys. You know what to do,” I tell them, facing my wife who looks like she’s getting impatient.

They all nod and clap me on the shoulder, except for Cain, he slaps a kiss on my cheek, which I’m still wiping off as they fall into a single line in front of me. Gray first, then Gunner, Cain, Tex, Slasher, Slayer, Stretch and finally Munroe. And then there’s me.

“What?” Cara giggles, and I peek around Munroe’s hulking frame to see Gray bowing to her before he hands her his rose. “What is the rose for?”

“Just go with it.” Gray suggests before Gunner does an awkward bow and wave, offering her his rose, before dashing to the side like Cara might attack at any moment.

I mean. She might, since no one is telling her anything.

One by one, each man gives Cara a rose, and it doesn’t surprise me when Cain holds his junk and does a spin on the spot worthy of Michael Jackson before thrusting his hips at my fucking wife.

Give me fucking strength.

The closer I step toward my wife, the more nervous I get.

What if she thinks this is dumb?

Without another second to prepare myself, Munroe steps to the side and I find myself a couple of steps away from the reason we are here.

“Oh my god, Rochus King, if you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I will… will—”

“Will what?” I grin, and she shakes her head, her smile the biggest I’ve ever seen it.

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far, but I’m pretty sure it will involve a whip.”

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