“Join me?” I raise a brow. “Wait… Can we still do that?”

“Have a shower?” Cammi’s brows furrow.

“Have sex?” I whisper like the kid can hear us. “I should call Doc and ask him.”

“Don’t you dare,” she says. “We can still have sex, Vin. OMG.” She shakes her head at me.

“How do you know? Have you ever been pregnant before?”

“No. But I know you can still have sex. It’s common knowledge. Google it,” she counters.

“Fine, I will.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and look up “having sex with pregnant women,” only to realise those probably aren’t the words I should have used.

Chapter Thirteen

“They’re late,” Santo grunts from beside me.

We’re standing in a deserted fucking parking lot waiting for a pickup. I should have sent one of the guys, but the new buyer insisted on meeting with me personally. Which is why Santo and I are freezing our asses off waiting for the fucker to show his face.

“I know,” I tell him. I hate tardiness. It’s a sign of disrespect. And disrespect is something I won’t stand for. A lesson the asshole will learn as soon as he gets here.

“Why exactly are we dealing with a new customer anyway?” Santo questions me.

“Money is money. You don’t like money all of a sudden?” I counter.

“We in financial trouble?”

“No,” I scoff. Our accounts have never looked better. But like I said, money is money. And if this guy wants to buy three hundred grand worth of guns from us, then I’m not going to say no. “Why was the doc at Vin’s the other day?” I ask, seeing as Santo is always up on the gossip.

“Cammi was sick. Stomach bug or some shit.” He shrugs.

“Stomach bug?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “Sure he didn’t knock her up?”

“Probably. He looked pretty fucking pale when he walked out, and the doc wouldn’t tell me shit.”

“Fucking hell, you think they’re ready for that?” They’re so young. My baby brother and his wife are still kids themselves.

“I think Vin and Cammi will handle anything that life throws at them, as long as they have each other,” Santo says.

“Yeah, hopefully. He’s here.” I nod my head at the approaching black sports car. Pretentious bastard.

“He come alone?” Santo asks.

“Seems that way. Fucker must think he’s untouchable.”

The car comes to a stop and an overweight, preppy fucking asshole steps out. “Gio De Bellis, I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you,” he says, walking over. All smiles.

As soon as he reaches me, my arm swings out and my fist connects with his jaw. Forcing his head to snap to the side. “You’re late. Don’t waste my fucking time again,” I tell him.