Tirone: Texas Chapter Duet Part Two (The Night Skulls MC Book 2)
Tirone: Chapter 32

“Absolutely fucking brilliant.” Marshall held my face and kissed my cheek.

I froze. It was a friendly kiss, but I wasn’t used to being touched by either strangers or friends. Furore’s fist interfered, punching Marshall out of the way.

“Jesus, bro.” Marshall held his jaw, while Fort and Molar guffawed. “It ain’t like on the lips, y’all.”

“Don’t give a shit.” Furore stood between us, protecting his territory. “She’s off-limits. Not even a handshake.”

I giggled. “You’re crazy. Are you going to punch my coworkers, too, if they dare shake my hand?”

Laius snorted. “Trust me. I made sure no one would.”

My jaws parted. “Do I dare ask?”

He just shook his head. “Can we go back to the wedding?”

Lifting my hands, I surrendered. There was no winning with a Lazzarini when they were jealous. “If the wedding is on the same day as Mario Lanza’s birthday party, we’ll have a viable excuse not to go. In addition, it will be the wedding of the president of the Night Skulls, one of the major MCs in Texas. Not only will the other chapters roll in to join the festivities, but also all the other MCs in Texas will have to come if they’re invited or else they’ll have to face the wrath of antagonizing and offending the Night Skulls.”

“We’ll kill two birds with one stone,” Molar said. “Ditching the party and getting the numbers.”

“And all the guns we need to protect the wedding and the MC from the mob. They’ll be pissed and will try to ruin the day, but the Lanzas won’t be able to do shit when we have all these arms under one roof,” Fort added.

“They might wanna crash, though,” Texas said.

“Let them,” Hook slurred. His voice had a heavy rasp to it, and I began to think that was his natural voice. He was recovering quickly from the shot, and he wasn’t in pain anymore or on painkillers. “We’ll give them a proper Texan welcome. We’re very hospitable people, y’all, and we have a reputation to keep.”

The men laughed, and I took it Hook meant something entirely different from anything remotely hospitable.

“If they show up here, it’ll be merely an assessment of power or, at the worst, ruffling a few feathers. As far as I understand, the Lanzas want the MCs on their side. They’re not stupid to risk it,” I said.

“I agree,” Laius said, yet concern dripped from his tone. “But I don’t wanna put you in any danger. Our wedding should be the best day of your life with no worry or fear or schemes,” he glanced at my hair and face, “and you should be yourself, not in disguise.”

“I don’t mind at all, and I’m not worried or afraid. To the contrary, I think this is the safest scenario for a wedding of a Larvin bastard and a Night Skulls’ Prez.” The only person we should be afraid of was Tirone. I had no idea how he was going to react to the news, especially when he was sentenced to confinement in a dreadful cell for two days.

“Do we vote on it?” Texas asked. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“It’s my fucking wedding, not a club decision,” Furore said.

“Our wedding,” I corrected, cocking a brow. “And I’m the bride. It’s common knowledge that when it comes to wedding decisions…”

“Bride is boss.” Texas folded his arms across his chest and smirked.

Fort raised his beer in a cheer. “Amen.”

Laius glared at Molar before he’d said something as well. Molar shrugged. “She’s right.”

My fiancé—oh my God, is that really happening? I’m engaged? To a biker?—huffed. “Baby—”

“Did you not tell me I was the queen?”

His jaw twisted with a snarling hiss. “Yes.”

“And the queen won’t have her wedding any other way.”

“The safety of your pain in the ass highness is my responsibility.”

I clasped my hands behind his neck and bent his head for a kiss that left us both swollen. “And I know you’ll do a great job at it, like always. You’re my mighty protector. I’m not scared of anything when you’re here. No one can touch me, Laius, not when you’re by my side.”

His gaze lusted over me, and naughty me stared at the straining bulge in his jeans.

“Get a room, y’all,” Hook said.

Molar patted Laius’s back. “Save it for the wedding. It’s only nine days away.”

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