“Right,” Daisy stated. “Now, Knight’s brother is a pain in the patoot. And ’cause he is, your man is gonna have to go off with all our men,” she circled the air with her upturned finger, “to sort his shit out. We’re stayin’ with you, with Sylvie standin’ guard. Not ’cause she doesn’t want in on the action, ’cause it’s doubtful you’d shoot a man in the face if he came to give us trouble, and she would.”

I blinked before my eyes cut to Sylvie and my mouth dropped open.

Her lips quirked, she lifted her hand and gave me a finger wave.

Deacon’s hand tightened in mine but I heard some chuckles and giggles hit the room, Deacon’s one of the former.

Daisy kept talking.

“I might, but it would depend on what I’m wearin’. Bloodstains are a bitch to get out and my Marcus works hard to keep me in my duds, most of ’em special made, so I don’t wanna ruin them with bloodstains.”

It was then I took in her attire: bolero vest heavily studded with square silver rivets, white tank stretched to the max over enormous bosoms, skintight jeans that were so faded, they almost looked white, these with rips at both knees and up the thighs, massive rhinestone encrusted belt buckle attached to an equally rhinestone encrusted belt, and patent-leather, pink high-heeled, platform sandals that, no other way to describe them, were stripper sandals.

It was the most horrendous outfit I’d ever seen.

And she looked fabulous in it.

“I, uh…” I mumbled.

Daisy cut me off. “So let’s get coffee. You got beds these little ones can be tucked into?”

I turned and motioned to the kitchen. “Coffee in there.”

Hanna headed that way.

“I’ll show you guys to my guestrooms,” I said to Anya and Sylvie.

They headed to me.

“Now, git,” Daisy said to the men, shooing them with neon pink taloned hands toward my living room. “Sort your shit so this shit can get sorted. I don’t do the outdoors, but if I did, I’d do it here, though not for long,” Her massive head of teased platinum-blonde hair swung my way as she said, “No offense. But I like my facials and I’m not thinkin’ there’s a spa close by that can give it to me like I like it.”

“No offense taken,” I replied.

She looked back at the men and did more shooing.

I led the women up the stairs with their kids, helping Anya out by taking the sleeping little one Knight had added to her other arm, and carrying her up.

We got that sorted and by the time we got back downstairs, the doors to my living room were closed, and female chatter was coming from the kitchen.

Sylvie went to the living room.

Anya guided me to the kitchen.

“Crazeee,” Daisy stated when I walked in. “Thought I was havin’ me a vision,” she said, circling her taloned hand in front of her face. “Got me some Rock Chicks, all in Denver, and not one a’ those bitches are hard to look at. But, girl, you might be the most beautiful thing I ever laid my eyes on.”

“Well, uh…thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” she muttered, dropping hand. “God gave you them looks.”

I gave big eyes to Hanna, walked her way, and gave her a belated welcome hug.

“Good to see you, darlin’,” I said in her ear.

“Same here,” she said back, pulled away, but didn’t let me go. “Told you when we left, wanted another stay at Glacier Lily. But Knight’s crazy brother wasn’t the reason I wanted to be here.”

She knew about Knight’s crazy brother. I also knew because Deacon had told me Knight’s crazy brother, Nick, was a “wildcard” in some crazy shit that involved Knight that had not yet been resolved.

I was guessing it still wasn’t.

“Was a phone call too much to do prior to you all hauling yourselves up here?” I queried.

“Phones are being listened to,” Hanna replied.

Oh my God!

“Are we in danger?” I asked.

Her head tipped sharply to the side, her brows snapping together, her expression profoundly stunned.

I’d know why when she answered, “Raid wouldn’t let anything harm me.”

No, he wouldn’t.

Same with Deacon.

I relaxed.

She grinned.

Bossy barked.

And then I heard Deacon order, “Cassie, here.”

I let Hanna go and looked to the kitchen door. Deacon was just inside and the others were streaming in behind him.

I didn’t care we had company and thus snapped, “Seriously?”

He came to me, took my hand, and dragged me out of the kitchen.

Bossy followed, dancing around us, and stopping with us in the foyer.

He got me in front of him, kept hold of my hand, but lifted his other to my jaw.

“I’m gonna have to go,” he told me.

“I got that,” I told him.

“You’ll be safe.”

“Of course I will.”

His head jerked.

“Would you leave me if I wasn’t?” I asked.

He stared at me.

“Go,” I bossed. “Do whatever it is you do. Try not to make too much of a mess. Uncle Sam knows you exist now. You don’t need him getting better acquainted with you by introducing you to his penal system. You hear me?”

He kept staring at me.

“Hello, Deacon Deacon Louis Gates?” I called. “Go so you can come back to me. We’re getting married in T minus six months and I kinda need you there when that happens.”

“Cassie Boss,” he murmured.

“That’s me,” I said proudly.

“Fuck, I love you,” he growled.

“Know that too.”

His hand at my jaw jerked me forward; his other hand came to the other side just as his mouth crushed down on mine.

When he lifted his head, my breathing was unsteady, but I’d have to be dead not to be able to be ornery and bossy.

So I commenced doing that.

“You’re far away, you eat and sleep on your way back to me. And before that, you eat and sleep good while you’re away from me. Last, you call me when you’re on your way home so I have plenty of time to make you cookies.”

The grooves dug deep, the crinkles fanned out, his beautiful lips tipped up, and his magnificent tawny eyes started dancing, making me feel precisely what he wanted me to feel.

Warm.

Safe.

Loved.

And happy.

For eternity.