Page 238 of Midnight Curfew

Army twists his mouth to the side, detecting bullshit. They’ve both had enough experience raising kids.

“But what if it’s a girl?” Trace replies.

“I hope it is.” Macon sighs. “I’ve had my fill with y’all.”

“She could be exactly like us,” I point out. “Or you.”

Or like Aracely. God help us.

“Well, then let me rest up while I can.” He shoos us away. “Get out of here.”

Good. I’m dying to get home anyway.

Army takes his beer inside, and I swallow three large gulps, handing the rest to Iron as Trace and I walk to our cars.

But Macon stops me. “Dallas!” he calls out.

I turn, seeing him step out from underneath the car and stop at the garage door.

“Remember what I said,” he tells me.

“I’ll bring it up with him, but—”

“And I don’t like you shacking up over there, either,” he commands. “It’s not respectful.”

Not respectful? “What does that mean?”

“It means, if you know what you want, then get it settled,” he tells me. “Living together and sleeping together without the rings and the promise is pussy bullshit. Get it done.”

Get it done? What the fuck?

He’s already gone, sliding back under the hood, conversation over.

Trace grips my shoulder, shaking me as we keep walking.

“Get it done?” I repeat.

Does he mean…?

Trace just chuckles. “Dallas Ames sounds better than Callum Jaeger. Just my opinion.”

I gape at him, realization dawning. “Fuck off.”

But he just laughs harder as it hits me what my brother wants me to do as if I’m just going to go fill up the tank with gas or something.

I haven’t even thought about marriage.

I wince.

“And you take his name!” Macon shouts at my back. “It’s good for us to have an Ames in the family!”

I spin around, my eyes bugging out. What the fuck?!

Trace peals with laughter, shaking uncontrollably as he pulls me to my car. Which he better fucking do, because I’m about to start a damn fight. What the hell?

I’m not changing my name! It’s Jaeger carved into that tomb, dammit.

Son of a bitch.