Battle Hearts

by Nina Levine

  Cleo is silent for a beat. “Umm, B, I think you’re having hot flushes, babe. From the fertility drugs. And possibly a little bit of rage, too. You don’t usually get fired up like this.”

  “No, what I’m having is rage induced by selfish team members. And I’m telling you, the weather here is ridiculous today. I haven’t had any side effects from the drugs. I’m fine.”

  “Is Winter home?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I was just going to ask if he’s feeling hot, too.”

  I’m not sure why, but I’m suddenly feeling really fucking irritated by my bestie, and that’s something that never happens. Like, in all the time we’ve been friends, I’ve never felt this way towards her. But damn it, she’s asking me dumb questions when I just want her to agree with me that Juanita is selfish.

  “He’s not here,” I snap. “Can we please get back to my staffing issue?”

  “Yes, okay. So what’s the plan for next week then?”

  “I don’t have a plan yet. I just got off the phone from her. But I’m pretty sure I’ll have to cover most of those shifts.”

  “I could rearrange stuff here and come down for the week.”

  My irritability with her completely disappears with that offer. “Oh, babe, no, I don’t want you to do that. I appreciate it, but I’ll manage. I just needed to vent is all.”

  “I know, but if you have trouble filling shifts, please let me come and help. You don’t need any added stress at the moment.”

  She’s right, but I hate the idea of dragging her away from Sydney. Especially since her roster is also quite tight. Our Sydney studio is doing well with business picking up every week. “I’ll see how I go. Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was snappy with you. This damn heat is getting to me. I mean, it’s June for God’s sake. It shouldn’t be hot.” As the words leave my mouth, I realise Cleo must be right; I’m having hot flushes thanks to the drugs I’m taking.

  Oh God.

  “Shit,” I mutter, “I think you’re right.”

  “About what?”

  “The hot flushes and moodiness. It’s the damn drugs.” A thought crosses my mind. One I don’t like. “Do you think I overreacted to Juanita?”

  “I agree that taking time off with no notice isn’t acceptable,” she says, choosing her words carefully. I know she is because she’s speaking slowly in the way she does when she’s trying to be delicate with me. “I wonder if there was room to explore all the options a little more fully, though. But you’re the boss down there, Birdie, and I don’t know everything that was said, so—”

  I cut her off because she’s being too delicate now. “Don’t sugar-coat it for me, Cleo. That’s not how we run things. I can agree with you that if this had happened any other time, I may have explored our options more. Ugh. Should I call her back and apologise?” Jesus, I’m not usually this indecisive when it comes to business and team stuff. It’s the one area in my life where I feel super confident with my decisions.

  “Do you still want to work with her? Is she normally more reliable?”

  I don’t have to think about that too hard. “No, this is probably a good time to cut ties when you put it that way.” I sigh loudly, giving a voice to my frustrations. “But I have to admit that if this is how I handle work issues after less than one week on these drugs, I’m a little concerned for the business going forward. Maybe you should take over managing the team down here for a while.”

  “Birdie, no.” Gone is her delicate tone and in its place is her fierce, supportive tone. “This was one hiccup. Don’t let it freak you out. And like you said, working with Juanita wasn’t so great anyway. Maybe you actually did yourself a favour by being blunt with her. You’ve got this, babe.”

  “I love you.”

  “I know. Now tell me, where’s Winter? I thought you guys were spending the day together.”

  “He ended up having some club stuff to take care of. I’m hoping he’ll be home soon because the movie we want to see only has one more session today, and that’s in an hour. How’s your day going?”

  She fills me in on her day, and we chat for another ten minutes before ending the call. Talking with her was exactly what I needed; I don’t feel anywhere near as angry as I did before. Plus, she helped me realise I’m experiencing side effects from the fertility drugs. I’m not sure how I didn’t put that together earlier.

  Deciding I need a cool cloth for my face, I head into the bathroom and locate one. Wetting it, I press it to my warm skin and feel some relief. I don’t even care that it’ll ruin my make-up. I’m so damn hot I could do with sticking my head into a bucket of ice cubes.

  A bath. That’s what I need.

  God knows how long Winter will be. Surely I can squeeze a quick one in.

  Stripping, I run a bath and sink into the cool water, savouring the reprieve it offers.

  I may just move into this bath.

  Live in here all day every day.

  Resting my head back, I close my eyes. Many minutes pass, maybe fifteen, while I allow my body to relax and my mind to drift. I’m four injections into this IVF journey and I’ve barely relaxed since I started. It hasn’t helped that I’ve also been on high alert with Winter since he came home and stitched himself up. At times, my mind races with all the possible ways he could be hurt while out doing club work. I’m thankful he saw the doctor and had his wound properly looked after. I’m also thankful it appears to be healing well; however, I worry about him daily. I know I need to stop imagining things that may never happen, but I’m having trouble doing that.

  “What are you thinking?” Winter’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I blink my eyes open to find him resting against the doorjamb, arms folded, watching me. How I didn’t hear him come home is beyond me.

  “How do you know I’m thinking? I might just be lying here without a thought in the world.”

  The corners of his mouth lift as a smile settles in place. “Angel, you’re never not thinking.”

  I run my gaze down his body. Winter has always been good-looking, but every year enhances those good looks. My belly flutters as I take in his muscles that are defined by the black tee and fitted jeans he’s wearing. The ink covering his body—almost every inch of it—also turns me on. Not to mention his beard and dark blond hair that he’s grown out a little. He’s pulled it back today, but a few pieces have fallen out. I want to run my finger down his face and brush those pieces behind his ear.

  Needing to touch him, I stand and leave the bath. I move so quickly, without bothering to dry myself, that he’s caught off guard. There’s surprise in his eyes as I wrap my arms around his body, but also pleasure. I hear it in his voice, too, as his hands land on my ass and he murmurs, “Fuck, coming home is always the best part of my day.”

  Since we had sex after he came home wounded, we’ve had sex every day, sometimes twice. I’ve done enough research on IVF to know that for many couples, sex can become a casualty of the journey, but I can’t imagine not wanting to be with Winter, and today, that desire is heightened. I woke up reaching for him, and I want him again. And even though his wound is still healing, he doesn’t allow that to stop him when it comes to sex.

  Looking up into his eyes, I say, “I don’t want to go to the movies anymore.”

  “No?”

  I move my hands to his belt. “No. I want you to spend this afternoon fucking me. And then I want you to order dinner in so we can watch a movie on the couch before you fuck me again.”

  Heat is a living, breathing thing in his eyes as he takes in what I’ve said, and when he moves into action, lifting me over his shoulder and carrying me into our bedroom, that heat vibrates from him.

  Placing me on the bed, he strips, not taking his eyes off me once. They roam my body, lingering on the parts he loves the most, blazing lust along every inch of my skin.

  Once he’s naked, he reaches for my ankles and bends my legs up as he kneels on the bed. “You been thinking about my tongue this morning, angel
?” He licks the length of my pussy lightly, not even coming close to giving me what I need.

  I arch my back as I try to press Winter’s face to me. “Yes, but I’ve been imagining a whole lot more than that.”

  His beard to my pussy, and his chuckle, do good things to me, and he delivers pure happiness when he buries his tongue in me.

  “Oh God, yes,” I moan, hooking a leg over his shoulders.

  My first orgasm of the afternoon comes less than ten minutes later. As I’m losing myself in it, Winter moves up the bed, over me, and brings his mouth to my breasts. “You were ready for me,” he says before taking one of my nipples between his lips.

  Threading my fingers through his hair, I agree, “I was.” My man is talented, too, though, and that’s the main reason I came so fast.

  He lifts his face and presses his mouth to mine. His kiss is slow to start, a promise of what’s to come, and by the time he deepens it, our hands are everywhere and I’m coming out of my skin. With lust, with love, with way too many emotions I can’t even begin to list.

  I place my hands to his chest and push him away before scrambling to get on top of him. “Oh God.” My words are breathless; I’m practically panting with these unfamiliar feelings coursing through me. Something’s not right. I feel off-balance, like my emotions are seesawing all over the place.

  Winter rolls onto his back as I climb on top. Confusion flickers in his eyes, but he lets me take over without a word.

  “You taste like coffee,” I blurt.

  The confusion in his eyes gives way to amusement as he grips my hip with one hand. “Are you good, angel?”

  Yes.

  No.

  Fuck, I don’t know.

  Like, what the hell is happening to my body? And my mind! It’s going berserk with far too many thoughts and feelings. And right in the middle of the sex I’ve been craving all day.

  Gah.

  “Birdie,” he says, snapping my attention back to him. “What’s going on?”

  I run my fingers through my hair as I stare down at him. “I miss coffee and you taste like it.” It was one of the things I gave up to help our chances of conceiving, but right now, I’m a little resentful of the fact he’s had some today while I haven’t had any for weeks.

  He sits up, his arms coming around me, his eyes searching mine. The love I see in them hits me hard in the chest. This man would do anything for me. And suddenly, out of the blue, a wave of extreme emotion unleashes through me and tears stream down my face.

  “Fuck,” he says, cupping the back of my head and pulling me close. “Let it out.”

  I sob for a good few minutes, completely bewildered by what’s going on. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. It makes no sense. Ten minutes ago, I was all about sex, and now it’s the last thing on my mind. And why the hell am I crying?

  When I get my tears under control enough to talk, I wipe my eyes. Since I don’t actually know what’s going on to be able to explain it to my husband, I start with what I do know. “It was the coffee, I think. That and a million emotions that kissing you brought up. And then when you put your arms around me, it hit me how much you love me and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. It’s dumb, I know—”

  “It’s not dumb. It’s the drugs you’re on. You know this.”

  “Yeah, I do, but that doesn’t make it easier when it all crashes into me. I can’t just flip a switch and say ‘Oh, that’s just the drugs. I’ll stop feeling these things now.’”

  “I know that, but what you can do is acknowledge where they’re coming from and not beat yourself up over them and say it’s dumb to feel them. This is the first time they’ve hit, right?”

  “I had a moment earlier. That was the first time.”

  “What happened?”

  “I practically fired Juanita.”

  Full credit to Winter, he doesn’t react to that statement in any way other than to ask, “Why?”

  I give him a rundown of what happened and then say, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little concerned about running the business while I’m all over the place like this. Do you think I should talk to Cleo about it again?”

  “I think you should wait and see how you go before panicking over it. The minute you tell yourself you can’t cope, you won’t. I have faith you’ll manage this well.”

  Winter’s firm belief in me causes a fresh wave of tears, and as I sit in front of him incapable of doing anything but riding them out, he gently wipes them away in between kissing me. He then takes me with him when he lies back down, pulling me into his arms and smoothing my hair.

  We lie quietly for a long time before I finally lift my head to look at him. “I’m sorry I ruined this afternoon. I had plans for all the ways I wanted us to have sex, but now I just want to lie here with you.”

  “You didn’t ruin anything, angel. But you need to keep those plans fresh in your mind for next time.”

  I don’t tell him that with the way I’m feeling right now, the next time might be days away. I’m hopeful this mood will shift fast and I’m back to normal soon.

  “I thought of some names today,” I say as I wiggle onto my stomach and rest on my elbows.

  He glides a finger over my shoulder and down my arm. “Does this change in subject mean you’ve already forgotten those plans?”

  “It means I want to talk about our baby.”

  He gives me one of my favourite things in life, his smile, and I fall for him all over again if that’s even possible. God, this man is everything to me. “Tell me the names.”

  “I really love Ella and Theo. Oh, and Oscar. Do you?”

  “Ella and Theo, yes. Oscar, no fucking way. It makes me think of Sesame Street. If we call our kid that, I’ll always imagine a green furry creature that lives in the rubbish.”

  I laugh at the thought and smack him playfully. “Well you’ve just ruined that name for me now, thank you very much. I really loved it before that.”

  “Hey,” he says, holding his hands up defensively, “you asked if I like them; I just gave you what you asked for.”

  “Don’t you know that husbands are supposed to pretend they like things at first and then somehow later get out of whatever they agreed to while keeping their wife happy? Seriously, I’m going to need to start some hubby training here, I think.”

  “Baby, there ain’t no fucking way I’m ever agreeing to a name I don’t like with the intention of getting out of it later. I figured out a long time ago the things I can get out of after the fact, and this wouldn’t be one of them. Once you have your heart set on something and I agree to it, I’m fucked if I want to change my mind.”

  I grin. He’s right. And I love that he knows this about me. Leaning forward, I kiss him before saying, “Fine, but I’m keeping my eye on you, Winter Morrison, and if we need some hubby training, I’m instigating it.”

  His strong arms come around me before I realise what’s happening, and he pulls me closer so I’m half on him. “How about some wife training? There are things that could definitely do with some improvement.”

  I roll my eyes. “Let me guess, you wanna train me to suck your dick more often.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, but I was thinking more along the lines of getting dinner on the table earlier at night.”

  I smack him again. “Bullshit. You were thinking of your dick, and we both know it.”

  The lines around his eyes crease as he chuckles and kisses me. “You know me too fucking well, angel.”

  I do. Just like he knows me too well. But holy hell, I hope he’s ready for the me that he’s going through IVF with. Something tells me she’s not going to be the woman he knows this well.

  7

  Winter

  * * *

  I step through the doors into the airport and remember why I dislike coming here. Too many people in a hurry to get somewhere with little care for anyone while they do it. I’m only five steps in and I’ve already been run into twice. Thank fuck I’m just here to
collect my brother and not here checking in for a flight.

  The noise makes it hard to hear King, who I’m in the middle of a conversation with. Pressing my phone harder to my ear, I say, “I missed that, King. Did you say he came back to you with a deal?” It’s been four days since we met with Torres and there’s been no word from him. King had to return to Sydney yesterday, pissed off having not heard from him.

  “Yeah, he called this morning. They dropped the price. It’s still slightly higher than what we wanted, but it’s workable so I’ve agreed to their terms. The first shipment will be here in a month. You’ll coordinate with Torres going forward.”

  I locate the gate information for Max’s flight and head towards it. “How soon do you want to head north?” We finalised our plan the other day for the distribution of this coke and it involves a trip up the coast to meet with other Storm chapters. I’m not keen to leave Birdie at this time, but I knew this was coming and have prepared her for my absence because this isn’t something I can get out of.

  “Next Tuesday. That good for you?”

  “Yeah.”

  He gives me some details for the trip, and we end the call. I’ve almost reached the gate to meet Max when Hunt calls.

  “Any luck?” I ask when I answer the call. I’ve been waiting for information from him about the place we’ve been watching in the hopes of locating Zenith.

  “It’s a bust. Not their warehouse.”

  “Fuck. And we don’t have any other leads, do we?” This fucking gang is slippery. They run a slick operation; we haven’t been able to track them or figure out where they operate from. We don’t even fucking know for sure who runs the gang. Zane, a guy I served with who now has his own security firm, has tried to hunt them down for me with no luck. If he can’t find them with the sophisticated surveillance software he uses, I’m not sure who the fuck can.