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I nodded and drained the pasta in the sink, the sound of the water cascading down the drain providing a sense of normalcy while talking about having to ask the RBMC for help. “I think since it’s just tomorrow, we can wait. I’m sure this has to be nothing, and I don’t want to worry her about something that we don’t even understand.”
“Okay,” Rocco agreed, his tone soft yet resolute. “We can wait until they get back, but we are telling them right away.” He pressed a kiss to the side of my head, his touch grounding me. “I’m not letting anything happen to you, Dorothy.”
I dropped the empty pot into the sink and leaned into his embrace, the warmth of his touch providing a sense of comfort. “I think I got pretty lucky finding you,” I sighed, a small smile playing at the corners of my lips.
“Right back at you, babe,” Rocco replied, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’m pretty damn lucky, too. I thought for sure when I pulled up to the funeral home that you and Imogen were going to be some old ladies that I was going to have to figure out how to work with.”
I chuckled, the image of Rocco navigating his way through the funeral home with two elderly ladies by his side amusing me. “Instead, you got me, a pregnant Imogen, and her biker boyfriend.”
Rocco shrugged, his expression playful. “None of those things are bad in my book. Hell, Mace and his club will hopefully help with this whole squirrel thing, and everything will be fine.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “When you call it a squirrel thing, it sounds pretty ridiculous.”
We finished making dinner and settled in front of the TV while we ate, the comforting glow of the screen providing a welcome distraction from our thoughts.
“Scary movie?” Rocco suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
I glanced at him, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. “The last time we watched a scary movie, you ended up with your shirt off and me in your bed.”
Rocco’s grin widened. “I mean, to me, that was a damn good night.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of our impromptu movie night, bringing a sense of warmth to my heart. I turned on one of the Halloween movies, the familiar soundtrack filling the room with eerie music.
We spent the night snuggled on the couch, the warmth of Rocco’s embrace providing a sense of security.
Tonight it was just me and Rocco.
Tomorrow it was back to Imogen being home and dealing with the squirrels.
Life sure was crazy sometimes.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rocco
As Mace and Imogen arrived in Jackson, the rest of the RBMC followed suit, pulling into the parking lot of the funeral home. The sight of eight motorcycles roaring in sent shockwaves through the quiet neighborhood, prompting curious neighbors to peek out from their homes.
“Oh, wow,” Dorothy chuckled, breaking the tension with her light-hearted remark. “You think maybe they have biker sense and know we need their help?” She glanced at me, her eyes searching for reassurance.
I couldn’t help but grin at Dorothy’s comment, appreciating her attempt to inject some humor into the situation. “Maybe they do,” I replied, though my voice was drowned out by the rumble of engines and the clamor of voices. “Squirrel sense.”
The RBMC members expertly maneuvered their bikes, circling the parking lot before backing into spots.
Dorothy playfully punched my shoulder and let out an infectious giggle. Without a second thought, I pulled her into my arms, craving the warmth of her body. Our lips met in a fiery kiss, a testament to the passion that burned between us. I didn’t care that we were in front of Imogen and the club; they were well aware of what Dorothy and I had been up to the past two weeks.
“Oooo, wee!” Imogen’s voice cut through the moment, her tone teasing. “You two better be careful, or you’re going to catch what I got.” Mace helped her off the motorcycle, and she cradled her stomach. “I think I might have popped while I was gone,” she laughed.
Dorothy reluctantly pulled away from our embrace and darted over to Imogen. “Don’t you put that juju on me? I’m the cool auntie, okay?” she teased.
They embraced as if they hadn’t seen each other in years, when it had actually only been two weeks.
Meanwhile, Mace approached me, his sunglasses pushed up on his head, his expression relaxed.
“I didn’t know you were going to bring the whole club to bring Imogen back,” I joked, extending my hand to him.
Mace shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips as we shook hands. “Imogen was telling all of the girls about Jackson. You know how it is, the girls hear about a place with good food, Brew’s and Jackson’s, and they have to go there.”
“So we’re here!” one of the women chimed in, eliciting laughter from the group.
