Nauti Dreams (Nauti #3)

She breathed in roughly. “Then I’ll deal with it, Timothy. It’s his fight. It’s his pride. I won’t take it from him.”

He cursed again, turned from her, and a second later they were running from the van to the sidewalk, racing to the two-story brick house that sat peacefully amid the residential street.

Neighbors were stepping from their houses as the sheriff’s car sped down the street, sirens wailing. And she wondered how Timothy had managed to keep Zeke from coming in sooner.

They rushed the house. Dawg and Rowdy with their black law enforcement vests made it there first. The door splintered as they went through it, and stood blocking the living room, staring back at Natches and Dayle Mackay in shock.

They were brutal. Fists were slamming into faces. Natches’s jaw and lip were bleeding; Dayle probably had teeth missing though. He was bleeding profusely from the mouth, stumbling back as Natches buried his fist in his ribs. And from the grunt of pain, it wasn’t the first time.

Dayle went to one knee, staggered, and then pulled himself back up. Lowering his head he charged Natches. A second later, he came up on his tiptoes, a wet groan leaving his throat as Natches buried his fist in his stomach and threw him back.

“Have you had enough?” Natches’s drawl was lazy, that dangerous sound Chaya swore she was going to make sure he never uttered again.

“Son of a bitch,” Dayle wheezed and charged again.

The blow to his ribs took him to his knees.

“We can keep this up all day,” Natches informed him, stepping back as Dayle rolled to his side. “Come on, old man; pull your ass back up. I don’t think you’re bleeding enough.”

Nadine was sprawled where Alex’s bullet had left her, and as Chaya watched, Alex stepped into the hall from the back and lifted Natches’s sister into his arms. Her eyes met his, and she almost backed up at the emotion in Alex’s face.

“She’s been drugged, Alex,” Natches told him, still watching Dayle as he held his ribs and groaned weakly. “Get her to the hospital, now.”

Alex moved as Timothy barked orders into his radio, calling for a unit to meet Alex on the street for the drive into the hospital.

Zeke stepped into the house, and he, too, watched as Natches moved farther back from Dayle Mackay.

“I think his rib is broken, maybe several of them,” Natches informed them cheerfully as he gripped Chaya’s arm and began to move her back. “Take care of this, boys. We’ll see you in a few days.”

“She can’t leave.” Timothy was nearly hyperventilating now. “You need to be debriefed. We have fucking red tape to get through and questions that need answering. Get your ass back here, Natches. Agent Dane.”

Natches turned back to him, stared at him, and Timothy went quiet.

“You remember that talk we had last year, Timothy?” Natches asked him.

Timothy glared back at him.

“I see you do. Cut the red tape. You have the damned recording if your phone worked. Debrief him.” He shoved his finger in Dayle’s direction. “Arrest him, get him the hell out of Somerset and keep him locked up. Because if I have to deal with you one more time, in my town, I might break a promise I made to myself and Chay about no more killing. You don’t want that.”

“And Timothy.” Chaya stood her ground when Natches would have dragged her out of the house. “Don’t forget your promise to me. I did my part. I expect yours as a Christmas present. As we agreed.”

He rubbed his balding head, squinted at her, then sighed. “By Christmas.”

She nodded, then turned and let Natches lead her from the house. The street was filled with vehicles. He wrapped his jacket around her, lifted her to the back of the Harley, and seconds later they were maneuvering through the crowd converging on the Grace home.

It was over. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against his back as they hit the interstate and headed back to the Nauti Dreams.

“You promised me at least a week in that bed of yours,” she reminded him. “How are you going to keep your cousins away from us?”

“I have my ways.” He turned, flashed her a wicked smile and a wink. “Don’t worry, baby. I have my ways.”

EPILOGUE

Enter At Your Own Risk

No Knocking

No Visitors

GO AWAY

The sign blocked the entrance to the Nauti Dreams for two weeks. It had gone up a week after Dayle Mackay’s arrest, and Chaya and Natches stayed secluded.

Rowdy and Dawg shook their heads as they passed by and heard the male laugher, the feminine giggling, from inside. They swore Natches and Chaya were going to starve before they came out, but they both had to admit, the sound of Natches’s laughter from inside that houseboat lightened their hearts.

Finally, the sign came down though. As October turned into November, and the chill wind turned icy on the lake, Natches stepped from the Dreams.

Dressed in jeans, zipped only, no shirt, and socked feet, he inhaled the scent of winter coming and wrapped his arms around the real dream in his life as she stood in front of him, bundled in a quilt, drowsy and sated from the early morning loving they had shared.

Excited by the knowledge they carried.

Natches had slipped from the boat the night before and made a trip to the pharmacy. This morning Chaya had taken the pregnancy test he had brought home, and it was positive. She was having his child.

“You’re going to teach him to play baseball then?” she asked, a smile teasing her lips as he kissed the curve of her neck.

“Of course,” he drawled. A silky, rich, lazy sound that she already loved. “And if we have a daughter, I swear, Chay, I’m locking her up till she’s fifty.”

“If you lock her up, she won’t be able to find a Harley-riding hellion to steal her heart,” she teased, laughing.

“My point exactly, sweetheart. My point exactly.”

Before Chaya could reply, Dawg stepped out of the Nauti Nights, pushed his fingers through his mussed hair, and threw them both an irritated look.

“Take your mushy crap back behind closed doors,” he grumbled, the scowl on his face boding ill for daring to get in his way.

Chaya watched him in surprise as Natches arched a brow.

“Problems, Dawg?” he asked.

Dawg grunted. “I’m calling her brother; maybe he can force that hardheaded little minx to listen to reason. She sure as hell isn’t listening to me.”

“About what?” Chaya asked him.

“She needs to go to the damned doctor,” he snarled. “Three weeks now and she’s sick more often than not. She’s tired all the damned time, and she refuses to go to the doctor. Just looks at me like she wants to rip my head off or something.”

Worry strained the thin, tight-lipped expression on his face.

Chaya grinned and he glared at her. “She’s sick.”

“It’s normal.” She rolled her eyes at his look.

The thought of it still cracked her up. Crista Mackay had been complaining of her ailment the night she, Kelly, and Maria Mackay had been at the boat.

“The hell it is. She never gets sick.”

“She does if she’s pregnant.”

Natches tensed, but Dawg froze. He stared back at her, his lips parting, then closing a second before she swore he almost stumbled as he stood still staring at her.

“She’s what?”

Chaya frowned. “I thought she knew. With the morning sickness—she said it wasn’t fair you weren’t sick, too.” She had known, hadn’t she? Chaya asked herself. “Doesn’t she know?”

Dawg lifted a hand toward the door, and she swore it was shaking. Then he turned back to her and swallowed tightly.

“Damn.” His voice was almost weak. “Are you sure?”

Chaya stared back at him in surprise. “Sure she’s pregnant?” She laughed. “No, but Natches bought no less than three of those tests he slipped out last night to get. We won’t need the last two. You’re welcome to them.”

Dawg’s gaze sharpened. “You’re . . . ?” He couldn’t seem to say the words.

“Pregnant?” Natches drawled in amusement. “So the test says.”

Dawg looked back inside the houseboat, looked to Chaya, then at Natches, and she swore he paled.

“What if she has a girl?” he almost wheezed. “Oh hell. A Mackay daughter? Natches, what will we do?”

“Lock her up till she’s fifty.” Natches laughed as Chaya butted her elbow into his tight stomach. “We’ll lock them up till they’re fifty, Dawg, because I don’t think I would survive it.”

“A baby?” Dawg shook his head, blinked, then without another word, turned and went back into the houseboat.

“A dollar says she’s dressed and headed to the doctor in the next hour.” Natches chuckled.

“Two says he borrows the test,” she countered.

An hour later, Dawg barged in, ignoring the fact that the door was closed and drapes were drawn. He even ignored Natches’s curse as he tried to fix the quilt around Chaya’s naked body.

“I need that damned test.”

He was definitely pale. And his hands really were shaking.

“Get up, Natches. This ain’t no time for that crap.” He all but lifted Natches from the couch as Chaya dissolved into laughter. “Get the damned test already.”

“You owe me, Natches,” she called out as he laughed and headed upstairs for the pharmacy bag. Then she looked at Dawg again.

He was pacing. Dressed in jeans and a dark blue shirt, the ends hanging over his jeans, barefoot and decidedly worried, he paced the living room and stared at the stairs.

“Wish he’d hurry,” he growled.

Chaya held the quilt tight around her. She knew Crista had miscarried their first child several years ago, something Dawg hadn’t known about until Crista’d returned to Somerset the year before. If Dawg’s demeanor was any indication now, he was terrified. A terrified Nauti Boy. She would have had to see it to believe it.

“She’ll be fine,” she said softly then.

He turned back to her, his light green eyes pinning her, his expression intense. “Damned right she will be,” he snarled. “I’ll make sure of it. Hurry, Natches,” he yelled. “Damn it, I don’t have all day.”

Natches was grinning as he came back down the stairs, tossed the bag to his cousin, and watched as Dawg rushed from the houseboat.

“Do you think he’ll survive it?” He chuckled, returning to the couch and wrapping her in his arms.

“As long as it’s not a girl,” she snorted. “You guys deserve girls. A half dozen of them at least.”

The wounded-male look he gave her had her giggling. “That’s just wrong, Chay. On so many levels.” He sighed. “A daughter would make me old before my time.”

“That’s okay.” She nipped his chin and touched his cheek. He was her nauti dream; she wasn’t going to allow that. “I promise I’ll keep you young.”

He smiled at that and caught her lips in a heated, hungry kiss. Because it was the truth. Loving Chaya would always keep him young. And maybe, just maybe, it would give him the strength to survive if God decided to start laughing at the Nauti Boys and actually gave them daughters.

Christmas Day

“Now, you can’t look,” Chaya reminded Natches firmly as he kept his back to the door of the houseboat, his forest green eyes watching her with amusement and love.

There was nothing she had ever known that had prepared her for the full extent of Natches’s love. He could drive her crazy, make her insane with his arrogance and male dominance, but there was always a smile, always a kiss, and he always held her. It was like nothing she could have imagined.

“We could be in bed, cozy and warm,” he suggested, his brows waggling. “We could try out those new presents I bought you.”