Page 89 of Damascus & The Wildfire
Kenna blinked, surprised.
“I’m yours, Wildfire. Your home is with me.”
“Speaking of home …” she trailed off.
I pulled back, my brows raised.
“I may have invited some people over tonight for a housewarming party.”
I groaned, feigning exasperation. “I’ve lived here for years. How much time do we have before people start showing up?”
“A couple hours.”
“Good. Now go to our room, take off your clothes, and wait for me. I want to see you ride me wearing nothing but that cut.”
She burst out laughing. “That’s one order I won’t veto.” She turned to head toward our bedroom.
“One more thing,” I said. “Marry me.”
She paused. “I love you. I’m wearing your patch. That’s enough for me for now.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Life’s short, and I’m not getting younger.”
She scoffed. “You’re not old. I watched a TikTok last night that said forty is the new thirty. Let’s settle in. Build our house. And then we can get married.”
Merci arrived first, letting herself in without knocking like always. Brisket lost his goddamn mind, barking and wagging his whole body as she scratched his ears.
She hugged Kenna, pressing a bottle of wine into her hands. “Luca couldn’t make it,” she said. “Another long shift at the hospital.”
Soon enough, our backyard filled with our friends—Eva, Reaper, Thane, Rhetta, and Fuse. Music played as we chatted and ate hot dogs.
Hatchet was late, as usual. When he finally showed up, I caught the scent of something sweet—expensive perfume, from what I could tell. He had that smug, just-got-laid look, and I rolled my eyes. “Took you long enough,” I muttered.
He grinned, slapping me on the back. “Had an early date. Knew there weren’t going to be any single chicks here tonight.”
“Hatchet, you ever show up on time for anything?” Fuse called out.
“Only for funerals and court dates, brother,” he said as he beelined for the cooler. Hatchet grabbed a beer and then sauntered over to Merci, who sat perched on a lawn chair.
He flashed her his charming grin. “So, you planning to patch me up tonight? Or are you off duty?”
Merci smirked, swirling her wine. “I’m definitely off duty. So try not to get yourself shot, stabbed, or otherwisemaimed.”
Hatchet chuckled, leaning in a little closer. “But I like it when you play doctor with me.”
Merci rolled her eyes. “I might just let you bleed out next time so you’ll shut up.”
I narrowed my eyes, watching him. Hatchet knew damn well Merci was engaged, but that never stopped him from turning on the charm. He was harmless, mostly, but I still didn’t like it. Not when it came to my sister.
“Relax. I don’t think Hatchet knows how to have a conversation with a woman without flirting.”
I grunted, not taking my eyes off him. “He’s doing it to push my buttons.”
She squeezed my hand. “Yeah, that’s half the fun for him. At least he’s toned it down around me.”
I huffed. Only because I’d threatened to smash his face in. I glanced down at Kenna, the firelight catching the mischief in her eyes. She was right, of course. Hatchet lived to get a rise out of me.
Hatchet caught my glare and grinned wider, raising his beer in a mock toast.
