Page 143 of Colt

Her hand covered mine and squeezed. “Our babies will be so smart it almost scares me.”

I leaned across and kissed her neck, smiling as the effects made her shiver. “They’ll rule the world and it’ll be beautiful.”

For hours we lay there, talking, and planning our future. We discussed our wedding, our family, our hopes, and aspirations. We talked about my work and what I wanted to achieve at the FBI, and Freya told me how she wanted to earn enough at a hospital so she could help veterans by carrying out pro bono surgeries.

If I didn’t know before that night, I knew it after.

My girl was more than I ever wanted and everything I ever needed. During the night, I fell in love with her a little more, if it was even possible. She made me feel things I’d never dreamed of and want things I’d never dared to before.

I knew she’d be mine one day soon, but I never suspected what we’d have to go through to be together. The pain and the heartbreak and the fight we’d have to put up.

I should’ve known that nothing good ever came easy.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Freya

Christmas at the Speed Demons clubhouse was an experience, which this year began at the crack of dawn.

I was startled awake by a bang on the door and Atlas’s voice booming, “Rise and fuckin’ shine, Freya. The kids are pissin’ their goddamned pants with excitement downstairs. I’ll leave your coffee here. You’ve got thirty minutes.”

“’Kay. Thanks,” I called out, my voice hoarse from sleep.

I patted my nightstand for my cell phone and saw it was six-thirty. Letting out a groan, I sat up, swung my legs over the bed and stood, raising my arms in a loud yawn. After retrieving my coffee from the hall, I padded into my bathroom and brushed my teeth before tying my hair up and jumping in the shower. Within ten minutes, I was brushing on mascara, a touch of blush, and swiping a slick of dark red lip gloss across my mouth, before slipping on a short, oversized blush-colored sweater dress and black, suede thigh-high boots.

Was it a little sexy for Christmas Day? Probably, but I wanted to gorge myself on food and the dress was the most forgiving thing I owned. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to impress Colt a little from afar.

With one last look in the mirror, I grabbed my cell, put it in my purse and headed out into the hallway. My tummy gave an excited leap. I loved Christmas; I knew it was mainly a kid’s holiday, but I couldn’t help getting swept up in the excitement of it all. It was a magical time of year.

I swept through the bar, grinning when I saw Dad with his back to me in a Santa suit, down on his haunches, arranging gifts under the tree. “Morning. Merry Christmas,” I called out.

He craned his neck and sent me a wide smile. “Merry Christmas. Go get your coffee and make sure you bring your old dad one back too. I’m spitting feathers here.”

“No problem.” I swept through the corridor to the kitchen to find it packed.

Cash and Bowie sat at the countertop with their heads in their hands. Atlas was at the huge table with a very pregnant Sophie on his lap. Layla was helping Iris at the stove and Cara was looking at Cash like she wanted to kill him.

Sunny came rushing up to me, her glossy, red-brown curls bouncing as she barreled into my legs and hugged them. “Merry Christmas, Auntie Freya.” She squeezed me so tightly she almost stopped my blood flow. “Did you know Santa came? And guess what?” Her high-pitched voice turned into a screech. “He brought my daddy and Uncle Cash a headaches!”

Bowie groaned in pain.

I blinked in surprise as Sunny giggled, her big, grey eyes, so much like her mom’s, sparkling excitedly.

Cara sidled up next to me, her lips pursed tight. “John decided to make the boys join him in a Christmas tipple after Church last night,” She rolled her eyes. “It turned into a game of ‘Never have I Ever’. Imagine my shock when two hours later, Atlas barges in my room with Cash flung over his shoulder so drunk he couldn’t speak.” She glared at my brother who looked down at his hands sheepishly.

My confusion was evident on my face as I studied Cash. “But you don’t even drink.”

“Tell it to Pop,” he muttered, rubbing his temple. “I blame him.”

“You could’ve said no!” Cara snapped. “Now I’ve gotta put up with you and your hangover all day.”

Xan held up a hand to quiet Cara. “I’ll be fine once the Advil kicks in.” He rubbed his temple. “Only took six shots to bring me to my knees. One minute I’m takin’ a drink. The next I’m wakin’ up in the middle of the night with a mouth tastin’ like somethin’ died in it.”

“Best Christmas ever!” Sunny yelled, punching the air.

Cash and Bowie groaned.

“Mornin’,” a voice chirped from the doorway.

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