Chapter 8

EIGHT

Adam

My bride had made me feel twenty all night, and I chuckled to myself as we got ready to head out in the morning. It had been years since I'd had so much sex in one night, but it was worth every sore muscle I'd have today.

I'd ordered room service for breakfast since we had to leave early to meet the tour bus and rushed around after not getting much sleep last night.

"You okay, darlin'?" I asked Maria as she hurriedly stuffed a few things in her purse.

"I'm wonderful." She smiled at me. "Just a little sore this morning. Because someone was insatiable last night."

"Someone?" I arched my brows playfully. "You mean the person who woke me up at two a.m. because she felt the need to suck my dick?"

She lifted her chin. "Is that a complaint, Mr. Elliott?"

"It is not, Mrs. Cicero-Elliott. But I'm not the one complaining about being tired."

" And sore ." She wiggled her butt for some kind of emphasis and then swiped something red and shiny on her lips. "Now let's go."

We walked down to the lobby hand-in-hand, still basking in the glow from last night. Yeah, that was a dumb cliché, but it fit and I didn't care how silly it sounded. I was on my honeymoon with my beautiful new wife, happy and in love. I didn't know what the future held, but it felt pretty damn good right now. I'd popped a couple of Tylenol so my sore body wasn't protesting as much, and I was looking forward to the tour.

"Did you bring the portable phone charger?" I asked Maria as we joined the group of people waiting for the tour bus to arrive. "I know you're going to take ten thousand pictures."

"Of course." She patted her purse.

I laced my fingers through hers. "You got your Tums?"

She nodded. "And the Tylenol. I've got a headache now too."

"You okay?" I brushed my fingers across her cheek. "We didn't even finish that bottle of champagne."

"I think I've just been burning the candle at both ends. When we get home, I'm going to make some changes."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Sleeping more, working less, losing a little weight." She held up a hand when I started to protest. "You were right. This isn't about how I look; it's about how I feel . I'm exhausted all the time, out of breath when I'm chasing after the grandkids, and honestly, after what happened to Mario, I should be more diligent about my health."

"I hear that. I don't eat right, and even though I'm lucky not to put on weight, I don't do any kind of exercise. It can't be good for me."

"Maybe we can start walking," she said. "Do some weight training. That's supposed to be good in middle age."

"Vaughn's been on me to join that hockey league Dani started," I said, referring to the head trainer of the Knights. "But it's been years since I skated."

"I could join too," she joked. "Juliet is learning to play, but she won't be able to once she gets pregnant."

"You think it'll be soon?" I asked curiously. "I'm excited about becoming a grandfather."

"Now that we're married, you already are."

"You, uh, think the kids are going to be down with that?"

"The children will be excited about it. They don't even remember my Mario, so you're going to be the only grandfather they know. And the big kids, their parents, will come around."

Our eyes met and I leaned down to kiss her, and she rested against me. "I wish this headache would go away."

I gently rubbed her shoulders, cursing myself for planning something for an early morning knowing we were going to be up late last night. I hadn't known exactly how our wedding night would go, but I'd been relatively sure it wouldn't be an early night. Now she wasn't feeling well, and I was tempted to take her back to the room.

"We don't have to go," I said softly.

"Don't be ridiculous." She turned to give me the stink eye. "It's just a headache. You're not going to be a helicopter husband, are you?"

"What the hell is a helicopter husband?" I asked, laughing.

"Like a helicopter mom, but in husband form."

"I don't know what that is either."

"You know, overprotective and smothering."

I chuckled. "I'll do my best not to smother you, but over-protective is sort of in my DNA. You've never known any bikers, have you?"

"Just the one I married." She wrapped her arms around my neck. "And I like protective. Can we compromise on over -protective?"

"Keep rubbin' your tits against me like that and we can do anything you want." I slid my hand down to cup her denim-clad backside.

Damn, we'd gone at it all night long and I still wasn't satisfied. Maria made me feel like a new man, young and strong and ready for anything.

"That's our ride," she said, giggling against my mouth as the massive tour bus pulled up to the curb.

Lacing our fingers together, we fell in with the group that had crowded together to get on the bus. I leaned over to kiss her when someone suddenly shoved at my chest.

"What are you doing? Let go of her." Then he turned to Maria. "Ma, what the hell?"

I stared at Maria's oldest son in shock.

What the fuck was Mario doing in Las Vegas?

"You swore to me you weren't screwing this guy." Mario's face had turned bright red.

I leveled a gaze at Mario. "Shove me again and I'll knock you on your ass."

"Go to hell. This is between me and my mom."

Maria seemed momentarily shocked, but it didn't take long for the spitfire in her to come out. "Last time I checked, I was fifty-six years old and still your mother. You don't speak to me this way."

He grunted. "You can't just carry on with this guy—" He jerked a thumb in my direction.

"I can do whatever I please," she responded, holding up her left hand. "And whether you like it or not, we got married yesterday."

Mario was speechless as he stared from her to me and back again.

"Are you kidding me?" he hissed. "What kind of bullshit is this? You're screwing this guy like some kind of?—"

"You need to be very careful about the next words that come out of your mouth," I said in a steely voice, stepping between him and Maria.

"Says you?" Mario had his hands on his hips. "You think you can take me, old man?"

I chuckled. "Every day. And twice on Sundays."

"Ma, do you see the kind of person you're hooking up with?"

"The kind who doesn't allow people to disrespect me?" she countered.

"Let me be clear," he said, ignoring her and focusing on me. "You're not getting a dime of my father's money, Mr. Ex-con."

" Whose money?" Maria asked in a voice I'd never heard her use before. "The money your father and I worked a hundred hours a week to make back when we were first getting started? The money we scrimped and saved so you kids could have everything? The money your father painstakingly invested so we could pay for you to go to college? Is that the money you're referring to? Or do you mean the money we gave you for your first divorce? Your second house? How about the new Porsche after divorce number three? That money?"

Mario swallowed. "Ma, I just meant?—"

"Oh, I know what you meant." She pursed her lips. "What's good for the thrice-divorced goose isn't good for the gander."

"It's like you're spitting on Dad's grave!" Mario hissed, throwing up his hands. "How do you not see what he is?"

"You don't get to bring your father into this!" she yelled, clutching her hands to her chest. "You have no idea what he would do. Because he would want me to be happy, unlike my oldest son, who seems to think I'm nothing but his banker."

"Well, I'm not pissing it all away so I can fu?—"

Before I could react, Maria reached out and slapped him across the face. "Don't you dare talk to me that way!" She was so angry she was shaking.

"That's enough," I said, stepping in again. "We're not doing this here, and definitely not like this." I put my arm around Maria's shoulders. "Come on. You want to go on the tour or go back to the hotel?"

"I'm not feeling so hot," she whispered.

"All right, let's go."

"Ma!" Mario reached for her arm. "You didn't actually marry this clown, did you?"

"This clown is going to knock you out if you don't let go," I told him.

"Dammit, Ma…"

Maria made a strange sound as she stumbled.

"Maria!" I caught her just as her knees buckled.

"Something's wrong," she whispered as her eyes closed.

"Help!" I yelled, cradling her against me. "Someone get help!"