by Freya Barker
There’s a lot there. A lot she’s letting me read between the lines, and I can’t help the smile forming on my face. “Then stay there, Lula. See if you can find some earplugs so you can get some rest. Luke is happy at Ma’s and tomorrow night I’ll be home. Hopefully we’ll all be under one roof soon.”
I’m not saying the words either, but I’m making it clear where I am on the issue.
“Cheddar! Shower’s free.”
Tahlula must’ve heard Roadkill call out. “You should go,” she says softly. “Have your shower, we’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Love you, baby.”
“I know,” she whispers. “Back at you, honey.”
I wait for her to end the call, which she finally does on a soft chuckle.
“Awww, that’s so sweet,” Sumo mocks, as he takes in the goofy smile on my face. Blue beats me to the punch I was about to throw him.
“One of these days, buddy.” She wags a finger under his nose. “All these marks you’re racking up, annoying the shit out of everyone, are gonna come back to haunt you when you fall ass over tea kettle.”
Sumo quickly hides the flash of concern and juts out his chest. “Never gonna happen,” he claims with conviction.
“Keep believing that, brother. You won’t see her coming,” Roadkill contributes, rubbing a towel through his damp hair.
“We’ll see,” Blue adds, a smirk on her face.
I grab my kit and head for the showers, still wearing that smile.
Tahlula
“I’m nervous.”
Evan reaches for my hand.
We’re sitting in the waiting room while the neonatal team is with Hanna, deciding whether or not she’s ready to come home.
“The worst that can happen is they decide she needs to stay another week. We can manage that. We’ve managed so far.” He’s being annoyingly reasonable.
“I want her home.”
“I know. I do too, but if it’s better she’s here a little longer, then that’s what needs to happen. We’ll be ready for her either way.”
We will. Evan’s made sure of that with some help from my brother. This past week the two of them worked hard to get the house ready for Hanna.
The room we’d temporarily turned into a nursery is now a proper one. Evan had the paint store mix the exact same colors we’d done the nursery at my house in, and he and Trunk finished the job yesterday.
Of course, being the guys they are, they also installed bumpers on every corner of furniture, child locks on every cupboard and drawer, and a sliding lock on the inside of every door and window. I tried to point out they were perhaps jumping the gun a tad, but my opinion was unanimously dismissed. Thank God I had a girl, because I don’t think I could handle another penis in my life.
We haven’t discussed it in so many words yet, but as of yesterday I’m officially moved in. The guys had turned the second spare bedroom into an office for me. They moved my prized bookshelves—even managed to stack the shelves exactly as I had them—brought over my desk and chair, and hung my framed New York Times best-seller listing on the wall.
Not only that, I came home last night to find a matching recliner in the office to the one they’d put in the nursery. To make it easier for me to feed Hanna while I’m writing, Evan explained.
Of course that still leaves a truckload of stuff at my house, but we’ll eventually get that sorted. And then there’s the house itself. I could sell, or see if I can rent it out partially furnished. Maybe we’ll want to move out there when Hanna is older. I would’ve offered it to Jaimie, but she’s better off living in town and across from the chief of police.
I’ve only spoken to her a handful of times since she has her hands full with the shitstorm that hit her life. Last time I had her on the phone, she mentioned her mother maybe flying in from Denver. That would be good for her; she doesn’t seem to trust anyone with River and barely gets out of the house from the sound of it. I told her to push anything to do with my schedule ahead until we have Hanna settled in at home. My editor, as well as my readers, will have to wait.
Sometimes life takes you on detours that change your perspective and impact your priorities. Right now—for both Jaimie and me—family is at the top.
“Hanna Biel’s parents?” A young kid wearing a lab coat embroidered with Dr. C. Wilcox-Burnaby III—looking barely old enough to drive—stands in the doorway to the half full waiting room.
Both Evan and I shoot to our feet. “That’s us,” Evan confirms.
“Please come with me.” The child-doctor sounds and looks extremely serious.
I shoot a quick worried glance at Evan, who does his best to reassure me with his smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his baby blues. My hand in his big one is instantly clammy as we follow the scrawny kid back to Hanna’s room, where a crowd of a nurses and five white coats are gathered.
Dr. Franks, the neonatal specialist looking after Hanna, takes one look at our worried faces and hurries to say, “Hanna is doing well. Real well.”
I release the breath I realize I’ve been holding and feel the squeeze of Evan’s hand. Relief is instant and I sag against his shoulder.
“Glad to hear it,” Evan says, darting a sharp glance at the child-doctor who had us worried.
We already know Hanna’s nurse and Dr. Franks doesn’t bother introducing the other doctors surrounding Hanna’s bed, which leads me to conclude they must be interns.
“Her blood-oxygen levels are stable, her heart is strong, and she’s gaining weight. I’m satisfied your daughter is ready to go home with you.”
An hour and a half later, I climb into the back seat of my Lexus next to Hanna strapped into the car seat Trunk bought her.
“I’ll be glad never to see the inside of that hospital again,” I mumble, as Evan pulls out of the parking spot.
“I’d be on board with that,” he agrees, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
When we pull into the driveway I notice Trunk’s bike parked off to the side, but before I can comment on that the front door opens and both Joan and my brother step outside. My eyes dart to Evan, who is turned around in his seat, smiling.
“I texted them from the hospital. Figured they’d want to be here.”
As they had quite a few times in the past three weeks, my eyes sting with tears. Damn hormones.
Evan already has the back door open to take Hanna’s car seat by the time I get out of the vehicle.
“Oh my God.” Joan’s voice is wobbly, and she covers her mouth with her hands as we walk up the steps. “I can’t believe she’s here. Come in,” she quickly adds. “I’ve got coffee going. Decaf.” The last is said with a wink in my direction.
“Can’t call that dishwater coffee,” Trunk grumbles, and I plant an elbow in his ribs as I pass him inside.
In the time it takes Evan to get Hanna out of her harness, Joan is sitting on the couch with her arms out. “Give that pretty little munchkin to Grandma.”
“I’ll get drinks,” my brother surprises me by announcing. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.
I sit down next to Evan’s mom and smile as she coos nonsense at the baby. A feeling of contentment settles over me, and I realize I’m looking at yet another gift I’d never thought possible. A loving family to offer my child. I glance over at Evan, whose warm eyes are on me.
Our child.
“About your place,” Trunk is already talking when he walks in without a tray, but two mugs in one fist and two bottles of beer in the other. “Figured a beer for you.” He hands one off to Evan, sets the coffees on the table and sits down on the other side before he continues. “Yeah, so I was thinking; with you and the cracker shacked up—”
“Titus Maximus Rae!” I call out.
“With you and Evan,” he drawls with an eye roll, “living here, you probably want to get rid of your house.”
“Well, actually—” I start, but he ignores me.
“I’ll buy it off you. I’m getting tired of bunking up at the
clubhouse. Time I found myself a place, and yours is close enough to Arrow’s Edge that if there’s an emergency, I can be there in minutes.”
Now that was an option I hadn’t considered. It’s actually better. This way I’ll still be able to head up the mountain for a visit and enjoy the views from there.
“What do you think?” Evan asks when my eyes find him.
“I hadn’t thought of it. It’s actually a good idea,” I admit.
Trunk looks pleased. “Done deal.” He slams his already empty bottle on the table.
Hanna startles at the sound and starts crying, which my body responds to immediately. Joan hands her to me as I pull up my shirt. Before I have her latched on, Trunk is on his feet.
“That’s my cue,” he grumbles, as Evan bursts out laughing.
30
Evan
“Missing your sleep?”
Ramirez sticks his grinning face out of the car window, as I cover my mouth to hide a jaw-breaking yawn.
I’m just loading a ton of groceries in the back of my truck at the City Market. This past week we’ve depleted the stuff Ma and Jaimie picked up, and neither of us have wanted to go out to replenish. This morning after a breakfast of dry cereal, I bit the bullet.
I left Tahlula in bed with Hanna, to catch up on a bit of sleep. There hasn’t been much of that. A combination of first-time-parent anxiety—having her home and carrying all the responsibility—and Hanna’s little cries every three hours when she’s hungry. Again.
I used to manage with three or four hours of sleep a night, but since sharing a bed with Tahlula, I’ve been spoiled with nights of solid rest. Not so much anymore, but I wouldn’t trade those precious moments in the dark of night, with my little girl’s squirming body against my skin, before I lay her on her mother’s breast.
“Bite me, Ramirez.”
“Don’t mind him.” Blackfoot, sitting in the passenger seat, leans over the center console and into view. “I predict there’ll come a time when he’s the one walking around bleary-eyed for months on end. He’ll get his own back.”
“Never gonna happen,” Tony scoffs, but his partner just chuckles.
“Need anything done for tonight?” Keith asks.
I indicate the full cart. “Think I have it covered, but thanks.”
He nods. “You think of something, message me.”
“Will do. I’d better get going if I wanna get these bags put away before she gets up.”
The house is still quiet when I walk in and straight down the hall to the master. Some of the perishables are stored in my little beer fridge in the garage, and the rest is still in bags on the workbench where Ma can find them.
“Hey.” I sit on the edge of the bed and brush the hair from Tahlula’s face.
At the sound of my voice Hanna, who’s surrounded by pillows on my side of the bed, stirs. I watch as she stretches her little clenched fists over her head and scrunches up her face. Before she has a chance to loudly demand attention, I scoop her up and snuggle her into my neck where she immediately starts rooting around.
Tahlula’s gorgeous eyes slowly blink open. “Morning.”
“Someone is trying to feed on my neck like a little vampire.”
“I see that,” she smiles lazily, stretching, much as her daughter did seconds ago. “I need to pee first.”
“Hurry, before she grows teeth.”
One of Hanna’s hands has my beard in a death grip and her little legs pump furiously. Her mother chuckles as she darts into the bathroom. I try not to get hard at the enticing jiggle of her ass peeking out of her panties. It’s been too damn long. Other than kissing, some cautious petting, and a stellar blowjob, when Tahlula caught me jerking off in the shower the morning after we brought Hanna home, we’ve been waiting for the all clear. Hopefully that would come today.
This afternoon we have appointments scheduled at the hospital for Hanna and following those, Tahlula managed to get a late slot with Dr. Haebe for her post-partum follow-up. Eager to get inside her, I stocked up on condoms this morning, and am keeping my fingers crossed.
Hanna starts mewling in my neck; frustrated she can’t find what she’s looking for there, as I hear the water shut off in the bathroom.
“Give her to me,” Tahlula orders, as she walks in and climbs back on the bed.
I wait until she’s settled herself before placing a now loudly protesting Hanna in her arms. It takes a minute for her to realize she’s got the real stuff before she latches on and, with her little fist clawing at Tahlula’s swollen breast, starts nursing.
The sight never fails to move me.
“Maybe I should pump so I can give her the bottle at the hospital.”
“Why?” I want to know, moving a few pillows and settling my back against the headboard. Tahlula shifts closer when I tuck an arm around her.
“Because people might not appreciate me whipping out my boob in the middle of the waiting room.”
“Fuck ‘em,” I say with conviction. “If it bothers anyone they should turn their head. It’s the most natural thing in the world, and if they take issue with it, I’ll set them straight.”
She tilts her head back and looks at me with an amused smile. “You’re not going to get into an altercation at your daughter’s doctor’s appointment, are you?” She bends down to kiss Hanna’s soft, red hair. “This doesn’t bode well for your prom date, Little Pea.”
“Lula,” I groan. “I’m going to cause an accident if you keep that up.”
Needless to say we received good news at all appointments.
The moment Dr. Haebe declared any and all activities could resume; Tahlula tossed me a big grin, wiggling her eyebrows. Her doctor burst out laughing and I tried—and failed—to control my hardening cock.
I’m trying to get us home in one piece through Friday afternoon traffic. Hanna is sleeping in her seat, and Tahlula—who instead of getting in beside our daughter as she did earlier, climbed in the passenger seat beside me—is doing everything but shoving her hand down my pants to seduce me. Rubbing her thighs together, running her nails up the inside of my leg, making these mewling little sounds as she squirms in her seat.
Honestly, there’s no need for seduction. Never has been; I pretty much was a sure thing the first time I looked in her eyes. I can’t wait to get a chance to rediscover her body. Five weeks since Hanna’s birth, and although there’s only a mild swell to her stomach now, I’m happy to note the rest of her body has maintained those amazing curves. I’m eager to get my eyes, my hands, and my mouth on them.
Unfortunately—as I’m reminded when I pull into the driveway and see the garage door open just a crack—that is going to have to wait. Other kinds of festivities are on the menu for tonight.
I don’t know what I was thinking when I agreed to those.
Tahlula
I’m so mean.
I’m having altogether too much fun messing with him. Not that I’m a cock-tease; hell, no. In fact, I was teasing myself just as much. I fully intend to follow through when we get home. That is, provided Hanna sleeps a little longer.
The moment Evan stops the Lexus; I lean over the console for a soft peck.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble against his lips.
“As you should be,” he says in an attempt at a stern voice, but it lacks conviction.
“Be very careful getting Hanna’s car seat,” I warn him, easing my door open as I throw him a wink. “We wouldn’t want her to wake up.”
His eyes turn to slits, and I snicker getting out.
I’m mentally going over my plan of attack as I open the door, freezing on the spot when I walk into a houseful of pink balloons.
“Surprise,” Evan whispers behind me, and nudges me forward with a firm hand in the small of my back.
“Don’t kill him, please,” Joan pleads, wading through the wall of balloons with a smile and folding me in a hug. “He’s not the only guilty party here.”
Jaimie and Autumn are right behind her w
ith hugs for me too.
“We were planning a baby shower a while ago, but you messed up our plans,” Jamie explains, adding on a grin. “Consider this our revenge.”
“Jesus, someone get this crap outta here,” Trunk rumbles, as he swats at the pink decorations. “Damn color is toxic to my manhood; I can feel my balls shrinking.” I’m almost smothered as he yanks me into his chest.
“Please don’t talk about your balls while you’re hugging me,” I mumble a protest, which has the women snickering.
“Payback for whipping your tit out when I’m in the room,” he retorts, but lets me go anyway.
“Titus Maximus Rae! I was feeding my child…and don’t use language like that around Evan’s mother.” I glare after him as he disappears into the garage.
Joan chuckles. “Heard a tit or two in my day, dear. And worse,” she adds, with a sharp look at her son that makes me chuckle.
She drags me into the kitchen, leaving Evan to deal with Jaimie and Autumn fussing over Hanna who is still asleep in her car seat. The kitchen counters are filled with food, but I barely have a chance to register it as Joan leads me outside.
The backyard has received much the same treatment as the living room, pink balloons tied to the railing on the deck and even to an occasional branch or bush. But what has me swallow hard is the large group of people gathered.
Blue is hanging out with Sumo near the smoking grill, while Cap and a sweet-looking, middle-aged woman are sitting side by side in matching camping chairs, watching a group of young boys play soccer at the far end of the yard. I recognize Ollie and her husband, Joe, who are Jaimie’s landlords, watching the same group of kids. The last two in Evan’s crew, Roadkill and Hog, seem to be deep in conversation with Detective Ramirez at the bottom of the steps.
Sitting around the firepit are the women from the book club, Marya and Kerry, with whom I suspect are their husbands. Both men are FBI from what I understand. And finally, also in that group are Trunk’s friend, Ouray, and a small, blonde woman I assume is Luna, since she’s sitting on the MC president’s lap.