Page 32 of The Mobster’s Prize

“You said her?”

“That’s right. Now, spread your legs, babe. I need a taste of my sweet little cupcake.”

EPILOGUE

DAG

Three years later…

“Just get in the car, Alexandra,” I nearly growl as my stubborn wife continues to give me grief. She’s going to ruin the fucking surprise if she doesn’t quit with the attitude.

“Fine,” she huffs, climbing into her seat.

Finally. Fuck, I thought I’d never get her to leave my mom’s house. The five of them have been gabbing all afternoon, picking the colors for our nursery, when we don’t even know whether we’re having a boy or a girl yet.

“I don’t understand why we couldn’t stay for dinner.”

For dinner? We were already there for breakfast and lunch. We aren’t even going to get to Tahoe before it’s dark. I’ll have to wait until morning now to take her to her new bakery.

“Because we have things to do.”

“What things?”

“Just things.”

“Okay, vague. So, are we going home?”

“No.”

“Where are we going?”

“Away.”

“Geez. You’re full of details.”

I need her to fucking quit before I snap and spill the beans. I’ve never been good at keeping secrets and I want this to be a surprise.

“How about we play the quiet game?” I give her a warning look.

“I don’t like that game.”

I know. I am well aware that my beautiful wife loves to talk. And damn, do I love listening to her. I’m a fan of all of her noise.

“How long before we get there?”

If I answer that question, she’ll know where I’m taking her. So, I lie. “Two hours.”

“Okay. I can hold my pee for that long.”

No, she can’t. Ever since she became pregnant, the woman has had to pee every hour. I’ve already accounted for the number of stops we’ll have to make.

“You better.” I wink. “Or else you’ll have to detail my truck.”

She rolls her eyes at me, and I bank that in my memory. Later, she’s going to get a spanking for every time she gives me that attitude.

“By the way, your mom thinks if we have a girl, we should name her after her.”

I bet she does. I shake my head, reaching for my girl’s hand.