Page 32 of Iona's Christmas
“Because you have,” Noble said, throwing a napkin at him.
“Did you enjoy the dinner?” Warden questioned.
“Yeah,” Bogeyman replied.
“Then, if you want more, you can help cook it. My woman isn’t your kitchen maid,” Warden retorted amidst laughter.
“If we paid her, she could be! What do you say, Iona?” Bogeyman demanded.
“I don’t mind cooking once or twice a week but not every day,” I answered, and Bogeyman booed.
“We need a cook,” Dare suggested.
“Not a bad idea. I think everybody is tired of the slop the sluts dish up. And we’d save a fortune on takeouts,” Dare agreed.
“Iona, could you start interviews for a chef?” Undertaker asked.
“Yeah, and then work with her to plan menus for every night. I think everyone can make their own breakfast and lunch, although we could ask the cook to make prepacked lunches the evening before,” Warden mused.
“That would be a good idea. They could leave fruit and stuff in bowls, and we could help ourselves,” Dynamo added.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself a job,” Warden said to me with a grin.
I grinned back. That was exactly what I wanted. Most of the club stayed here in the clubhouse, but they didn’t eat meals and do things together. Of course, they gathered for church and if having a cookout. As close as they were, and they’d all die for each other, they lacked the closeness that had existed before. The sort of closeness that came from spending quality time together.
“That is not a job; that’s fun,” I replied, and Warden raised his eyes.
“This is what you wanted,” Warden murmured as chatter rose around us.
“Yes. Quality time. Look at how relaxed everyone is and the fun they’re having. You spend time together but not to relax. It’s always for updates or to deal with problems. This is something you used to do. Berserker insisted on it.”
“Dad’s death stopped a lot of shit. Grief prevented us moving forward, and then it became the new norm,” Warden admitted.
“I understand that, and I know we can’t go back to how we were. But we can move forward and carve out time for family time. Not just getting together to get drunk,” I said.
“True. They’ve enjoyed this babe, and it was something they needed,” Warden agreed.
“Do you really think they liked this?” I asked, seeking confirmation.
“Yes. Look at them. Iona, this is the best gift you’ve given them. And I thank you, baby, for it.” Warden took my hand and kissed it. When he released it, I felt a weight on my finger that wasn’t there before.
I glanced down and stared, shocked speechless. Nestled on my ring finger was a white gold band with a solitaire diamond. I looked back up at Warden, not noticing the silence falling around the table.
“What do you say, baby?”
“Ask me,” I ordered.
“Marry me,” Warden demanded.
“Yes,” I whispered again.
Warden grinned and scooped me up out of my chair, laying a kiss on me that curled my toes.
“I love you, Iona,” he murmured.
“I love you more,” I replied as everyone began cheering and shouting.
As Warden and I stood up, the family crowded around us, slapping our backs and kissing my cheeks. Lindy snatched my hand with Rosalea and gasped over my ring. A lot of ribald comments headed our way, but I took them in good nature.