Authors: Winter Travers
Devil’s Knights Series
Copyright © 2016 Winter Travers
Keeping Meg: Devil’s Knights Series
Editor: Brandi Beers
Cover Designer: Winter Travers
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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To finding true love. Never let it go.
For the hubby and the boy. Thank you for both being so amazing.
For my Family, Love you all.
Brandi, Chelsie, and Karla. Love you ladies hard.
Thank you to all of my amazing readers. I would be nothing without you all.
“No, I look like Barney the fucking dinosaur in purple. How about orange?”
“You only want orange, so it’ll match your hair. The wedding is five weeks away. Your hair will probably be three different colors by then,” Cyn said, sitting down at the table next to Marley.
“Well, we’re all in this wedding, so we need to agree on a color. I vote red.” I rolled my eyes and wrote down purple on the sheet of paper in front of me.
We were all gathered around one of the tables at the clubhouse, chowing down on Firecracker chicken and trying to decide what colors I wanted for the wedding. I really didn’t know why we were discussing it; it was going to be purple. End of story.
“I vote blue,” Cyn said, grabbing her bottle of water and twisting the cap open.
“Gee, I wonder why blue?” I said, turning around to look at Rigid, who was playing pool with Lo. Lo leaned over the table to line up his shot, his jeans stretching across his ass and his shirt taut over his shoulders. God dammit that man looked good. I turned back around and looked at Cyn. “Did you dye his hair? He looks extra blue today.”
Cyn snorted as she took a drink. “I’ll have to let him know you noticed. He had me do it last night. It was all good until he started freaking out about the fumes rolling off his head. He stood in the hallway until it was time to rinse.”
“Oh my god, I wish I could have seen it,” Marley snorted. “Does he know he can come to the salon, and I could do it for him?”
“He said salons are girly shit.”
“Tell me the next time he wants to dye his hair, and I’ll bring everything home with me. I’m sure he’s using shit dye, too.” Gwen picked up her plate and headed to the kitchen.
“Can you grab me some more?” Cyn asked, holding her plate up.
“Only because you’re pregnant, otherwise you’d be on your own,” Gwen mumbled, grabbing her plate.
“I know, I need to take advantage of you guys as much as I can,” Cyn winked at her.
“Doll, grab me another beer while you’re up,” Gambler called, shaking his empty bottle at her.
Gwen flipped him off and headed into the kitchen. “I can’t tell if those two love each other or not,” Marley laughed.
“I think they’re a match made in heaven if you take out the constant arguing and bitching,” I snorted.
“It’s love, dammit,” Gambler called. “She’s just got an attitude I need to work out of her once in a while. That’s my favorite part,” he snickered, elbowing Lo.
“Oh, Lord,” Cyn mumbled.
“Alright, back to the color, ladies. It’s purple. Barney be damned. You can be my dino bitches for all I care. Colors are Purple and black.”
“Did you really just call us your dino bitches?” Cyn asked.
“You’re fucking crazy,” Marley laughed.
I waved my hand at them, already knowing I was a bit crazy. It was part of my charm. “Moving on. Next Saturday we’ll go look for dresses. I need to look for myself, too.”
“Ahh, this is so exciting. Do you know what you want your dress to look like? Mermaid, drop waist, A-line, ball gown, tea-length, mini, or trumpet?” Marley gushed, her hands clasped in front of her
We all looked at her, our jaws hanging open. “They make that many kinds of wedding dresses?” Cyn asked, shocked.
“Oh, yeah, those and more. I’ve always loved weddings and already have my dress picked out for when I get married.”
“Um, I want a dress,” I mumbled, no idea which of the ones she said to pick. Although I could probably rule mini out right now. “Preferably one that won’t make me look fat.”
“Does Troy know about your obsession with getting married?”
“My obsession is with the wedding, not getting married.”
“There’s a difference?” I asked, confused as hell.
“Yes, I just want to have a killer party and look hot as hell.”
“Alright, bitches. We’ve lined our stomachs with yummy, spicy chicken and rice, it’s time for a little tequila!” Gwen ducked behind the bar, grabbing two bottles and brought them over to the table.
“Babe, I thought this was a strategy meeting with your girls to figure shit out for the wedding?” Lo asked, walking over, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched Gwen grab four shot glasses and drop them on the table next to the bottles.
“Hey, we totally planned shit. Our wedding colors are purple and black, these are my dino bitches, and we’re going shopping next Saturday.”
“I’d say a productive meeting indeed,” Gwen said, filling each shot glass and handing them out. “Come on, King, you guys have got over five weeks to get this shit planned. How hard can it be? Have a drink, relax.” Gwen filled another shot glass and handed it to Lo.
He took it and looked at me. “This wedding shit is all on you, babe. You want flowers and a huge party, I’m good with that. As long as you’re my wife on December 31
, I’ll be happy.”
And this was why I was in love with Logan Birch. No matter what happened, I was going to marry this man and live happily ever after.
“Babe, you are so tanked,” I laughed as I watched Meg stumble out of her pants. She held onto the wall, her pants around her ankles, her eyes shut.
“Shhh, you make the room spin when you talk,” she whispered.
“No, I’m pretty sure that’s the 8 shots of tequila doing that to you.” I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it over the desk chair. “You want me to get you some water and Tylenol?”
Meg nodded her head and moaned, waving her hand at me.
“I don’t know why the hell you did tequila tonight, babe.” I walked into the bathroom and opened the huge bottle of Tylenol Meg had bought on her recent trip to Costco. Whenever she went there, we were always stocked up on the weirdest shit. Let’s not get into the fifty rolls of toilet paper she bought the last time. “Here, take these, and climb into bed.”
She grabbed the pills and the bottle of water I was holding out to her. “You’re a saint,” she whispered, twisting the cap off.
“And you’re a nut, babe.”
“But you love me,” she said, handing the bottle back to me. “Now, help me get out of these clothes before I fall over.” She leaned heavily against the wall, slowly sinking down.
“No more tequila for you. From now on, it’s Southern Comfort and Whiskey for you.” I grabbed her hand, pulling her to me. She rested her hands on my shoulders and held on.
“You know me so well,” she whispered. I pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor.
“Step out of your pants.” She lifted one foot and then the other and finally stepped out of them.
“My pants are like a Chinese fire trick.”
“You know, those things where you stick your finger in each end, and then you’re stuck.”
“You mean finger handcuffs?”
“Yeah, that, too.” She wrapped her arms around me and rested her head on my shoulder.
“Where the hell did you get fire from?”
“Chinese fire drill.”
“I’m not following you at all.” Meg’s craziness intensified when she drank. It’s a miracle for me to understand her most times she drinks.
“I don’t know. Don’t be ass dumb.”
“Yeah, that, too.” She patted me on the chest and yawned. “I’m going to fall asleep on you,” she mumbled.
“You fall asleep on me every night, babe. Except let’s do it in the bed.” I leaned down and swung her up into my arms and walked over to the bed.
“You’re gonna hurt yourself one of these days if you keep doing that,” she mumbled, burrowing under the covers.
I pulled my jeans off, tossing them on top of my shirt and flipped the light off. I slid under the covers, Meg instantly cuddling up to me and rested her head on my shoulder. “You’re crazy, babe.” I grabbed her pillow and shoved it under my head.
“Is there ever going to be a night where you don’t steal my pillow?”
“Maybe I want my own pillow.”
“If you don’t have a pillow then you have to lay on me.”
“Fucking sweet Lo is out tonight,” she murmured. “Maybe sweet Lo will tell me the secret hard ass Lo is hiding from me.”
I shook my head and leaned back into the pillows. “Not happening. If you need to know, I’ll tell you. This isn’t something you need to know.”
Meg sighed, her body relaxing into me. “Next time I’m getting you drunk, and then I know I’ll get it out of you.”
“You can try,” I laughed.
“I love you, Logan,” she sighed.
“I love you, too, babe.” She rested her hand on my heart, and I knew she was out when her breathing evened out.
I closed my eyes, trying to sleep, but all I could here was Meg’s damn dog, Blue, snoring at the foot of the bed. I tossed one of the pillows from my behind my head at him, and he thankfully stopped snoring.