She followed me out to the kitchen where I’d left my purse.
Opening it, I saw everything was all jumbled up and knew she’d already been in it and likely couldn’t find them because I kept them in the zippered pocket. Smirking at her stubborn ability to disobey, I dug around in the pocket until I found the pink one. “Okay, come on, let’s make you look fabulous.”
Crouching down, I carefully lined her lips in her favorite color. Once I was done, I held up my compact mirror for her to see the results. “Good?”
“Fab-you-us!” she announced with a huge smile. “I put my pwincess dress on!” Then with slapping feet, she ran off to her room.
My heart fluttered at the happiness her little smile brought me. Knowing I’d likely have to leave after I started showing was a knife to my stomach.
There was no way Lock would want me around not knowing if this was his baby. Even if he initially thought he’d be okay with it, I doubted it would be true for long. How could it be? I imagined him stewing over it, the uncertainty eating at him. It would be poison to anything we might’ve been building.
I’d have to enjoy what we had for as long as I could. Because heaven knew I wasn’t ready to walk away from him yet. He was absolutely, positively my greatest and worst addiction.
The window in the back door framed him as he stood at the grill. His face was pensive, but God, he was beautiful. His beard had grown, but better yet, he had given in to Presley and my badgering and was growing out the top again. Lordy, and those arms. His muscles were rebuilding, and it showed.
All in all, he was hot as Hades.
The white T-shirt he wore like a second skin had grease smudges, as did his jeans, but it didn’t detract from his overall sex appeal. In fact, it only increased it. I could only imagine him working hard on a bike, sweat soaking his tight shirt. Better yet, shirtless.
Get a grip, girl.
As if he sensed my gaze on him, his head swiveled to stare back at me. The storm raging in his eyes made me wonder what had him so keyed up. It seemed forever before he looked away.
Not once did he smile at me. Something was seriously bothering him.
The loss of visual contact left me cold and disconnected. It was disturbing how merely holding his gaze warmed me and made me all squishy inside. My feelings were beginning to develop into something that likely wouldn’t end well, and I was more afraid of the damage to my heart than I had been of Stefano.
Since he was grilling, I figured I might as well make myself useful and prepare the sides. With a sigh, I turned to the bin and pulled out a few potatoes. Deciding to make them into garlic mashed, I prepared a pan, then peeled and chopped them before I dumped them in the water to boil. Once that was done, I went to the refrigerator to get some veggies out of the freezer.
My movement caused a paper on the fridge to flutter, catching my attention.
Heart caught in my throat and choking for air, I stared at the ultrasound images stuck on the refrigerator door at eye level. It was as if I’d imploded and was caving in at my chest. Instinctually, my hand slapped to my chest to contain the damage, but it was impossible.
Any hopes of having more time with him and Presley shriveled as the images mocked me from the shining black door.
He knew.
“Sex Type Thing”—Stone Temple Pilots
Looking up, I met her blue eyes through the glass. Captivated, I couldn’t look away. No matter the turmoil spinning in my head, she owned me.
The thought was terrifying.
For so long it had only been me and Presley. I didn’t have to worry about anyone but the two of us. Now there was a woman and another kid.
The thought of it being someone else’s made me angrier than I would’ve thought possible. Because if it was, that meant some other asshole put his shit in what belonged to me.
A little voice whispered, “You were gone, possibly dead. She may have been upset.”
Knowing her, and thinking back to that day, she’d definitely been upset. What if she’d sought solace in one of my brothers’ arms? They all were good guys. Hell, I was man enough to admit that and that they were all good-looking guys.
Could I really find fault if she had?
Yeah, I could. Because I was a possessive motherfucker. Which made me irrational when it came to her. It was a fault that I was also man enough to admit.
Angry at the visions of her with one of my brothers, I forced my gaze back to the grill and the steaks. My teeth made cracking sounds, I was clenching them so hard. It forced me to work on the breathing exercises my shrink always made me do.
Removing the steaks from the grill, I told myself we were going to talk as soon as Presley was in bed.
Schooling my features, I entered the house. Presley was sitting on Raiven’s lap at the table, coloring. The rest of the table was set for us to eat, with two covered dishes I hadn’t even known I had. The day I’d furnished the house, I’d grabbed shit and threw it in the cart because I’d been in a hurry to meet Raiven and bring her to see the house.
She’d been fucking stuck in my head every single day since I’d met her.
“Hey, steaks are done. You ready to eat?”
Raiven quietly nodded. Presley clapped her hands and shouted, “Yes! I stahving!”
Dinner was unusually silent. The sound of silverware scrapping the plates filled the room.
When we’d all finished, Raiven hopped up and started clearing the table before I could. For a few seconds I was mesmerized by the perfect curve of her ass in the leggings she wore. As she walked around, it flexed and rippled beautifully. It made me have really dirty thoughts about violating the kitchen again.
Instead, I shook that shit out of my head, because it had my jeans uncomfortably tight in the crotch.
Though she’d gotten most of it while I sat transfixed, I got up, wordlessly helped her, then went in search of my wild child to give her a bath. I needed some space from her.
I’d had to fight grabbing her and kissing her each time I’d gotten close to her. If I had, though, we would’ve found ourselves doing things we shouldn’t do with Presley still awake.
“Daddy, wook what Unco Smoke gives me!” She had freaking Play-Doh smashed all over the floor, and I’d never been so thankful not to have carpet in my life. Making a mental note to beat his fucking ass, I forced myself to smile for my daughter.
“Wow. That’s, uh, pretty cool. You ready for a bath?”
She pondered the Play-Doh, then me before narrowing her eyes at me. “I hab duh bafftub cwayons?”
Chuckling, I looked upward for divine intervention with the spawn of myself I’d created. My parents had warned me after every incident where I’d tested their patience that I was going to end up with a child just like me. Their dire warnings had come to fruition. I could only hope she didn’t grow up to be as wild as I’d been. Heaven help me if she was.
That had me thinking of the baby Raiven was carrying. If it was mine, would it be like me or like her? I really didn’t even want to think about if it wasn’t mine.
“Sure. Bathtub crayons it is.” Her smug grin had me wanting to pull my hair out. Little shit was lucky I loved her.
“And bubbos,” demanded the pint-sized negotiator.
The desire to roll my eyes but laugh at the same time was overwhelming. All I could do was shake my head.
“Fine. And bubbles. Now let’s go. Grab your pajamas and clean undies,” I firmly told her, then I sighed when she ran to get her clothes.
Bath time was an aquatic circus, as always. I was pretty sure more water ended up on the floor than in the tub. By the time we were done and the rest of the water was draining, I was damn near as wet as my daughter. Exasperated with her ability to rain bath water everywhere, I dried her, lotioned her up, and helped her with her pajamas.
I was surprised that she allowed me to help. She was extremely independent.
“Daddy?” she asked as she was stepping her second foot into her bottoms while holdin
g my shoulders.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Is Pwincess Waiven dunna be my momma?”
Holy shit.
Talk about being knocked for a loop. Did the kid have ESP? Because I’d have sworn she always seemed to know things she shouldn’t.
There was no way I had an answer for my daughter’s question. Without knowing what was going on in Raiven’s head, I couldn’t make promises that I wouldn’t be able to keep.
“Um, well, I don’t know.”
Presley appeared to ponder my answer before bluntly telling me, “You needa ask.”
“We’ll see.” Cop-out answer. Her narrowed eyes were unnerving as she studied me. It was almost as if she saw through my non-answer. “Let’s go tell her goodnight and get you to bed.”
Presley raised her arms for me to pick her up. It was probably wrong, but after not having the strength to even think about carrying her for the first week, I’d take every opportunity to hold her. She leaped into my arms as I opened them.
My next shock was walking out of the bathroom door to find Raiven leaning against the wall. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself with her bottom lip held tight in her teeth. The expression on her beautiful face told me she’d heard what Presley and I’d been discussing.
Shit. Motherfucking shit.
Well, one more thing for us to talk about.
“Hey. You want to tuck her in with me?” Softly and suddenly unsure, I asked her.
“Uh, sure.” The hesitation in her answer didn’t sit right with me. She’d tucked Presley in with me all week. Maybe that was part of the problem; we’d been doing too many domestic things in front of Presley and it was giving her the wrong idea.
Except I didn’t care. I’d wanted those moments with Raiven and Presley. Every second with Raiven was simply right. I didn’t know how else to explain the feelings I had. She’d become part of our little family, and that was big.
Really big.
I didn’t let people in like that.
We went through our little routine, and before I knew it, we were closing the door to Presley’s room.
“We need to talk.” I didn’t waste a second.
“Shit.” It was a mere breath of a word, but I heard. Staring her straight in the eyes, I inhaled deeply and let it out in a rush. Then I walked to the kitchen and sat at the table. For the moment, I ignored the ultrasound.
Tentatively, she took the chair across from me and sat on the edge as if she was poised for flight.
Patiently, I waited to see if she would say anything. My eyes studied her every move. Each breath, the way the tip of her pink tongue licked her lips before she pulled the bottom one into her teeth. By then, I was surprised it wasn’t bruised.
“What did you want to talk about?” Nervousness emanated from her.
Okay, we’re going to play it like she doesn’t know what I want to talk to her about.
Unsure of how to proceed, I stood up, ripped the ultrasound off the refrigerator door, and slapped it on the table. “How about we start with this.”
My heart was pounding so hard I heard the rushing of blood in my ears as I awaited her response.
First, she swallowed hard, still looking me in the eye. Then her lashes fluttered as she lowered her gaze to the paper held down by the tips of my fingers. Her lids slammed shut tight, and I could see her pulse racing on her throat.
“Raiven?” The warning in my voice came out as a decided growl.
A visible shudder shook her head to toe. When those big, blue eyes reopened, the shimmer of tears almost had me caving. Instead, I steeled myself against them because I wanted answers.
“I’m pregnant?” It came out as a question. Her brow wrinkled.
“I can see that. You know what I want to know?” It was a battle to keep my voice steady.
“What?” It was a whisper.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ticked off with one finger. “How long have you known?” Another finger raised. “Is it mine?” Last finger.
When her head tipped down to avoid my gaze, I used those fingers to gently tip her head back up. She closed her eyes, and I sighed.
“Look at me.”
At least she listened, and her eyes opened again. This time the shimmer of tears had increased until they pooled on her lower lids. One slipped free and started a cascade of them down her cheeks.
“I was afraid. About a week.” A shuddering inhale followed, then, “I don’t know.”
“Fuck.” It was my turn to close my eyes. It was impossible to look at her without seeing another man’s hands gliding over her colorful skin. When I saw it behind my closed lids, I opened them. Afraid to hear which brother it might be, I clenched my jaw, then forced it to relax. “Who?”
I thought I could handle a lot. I’d been through hell and back. My counseling sessions had been rough, even though they were sanitized to prevent my therapist from having to report everything that had happened. I’d led the therapist to believe I’d been captured in combat without actually saying the lie outright.
Falsely, my therapy let me think I’d gained some extreme fortitude.
I was wrong. So fucking wrong. Because her tearfully whispered answer was a sledgehammer to my knees.
“Stefano.”
“Cast It Out”—10 Years
The torment in his eyes when I said whose baby it might be. Holy shit. Talk about ripping my damn heart out, because I understood his pain. The thought of the baby belonging to Stefano made me want to drop to my knees and sob.
It was the exact reason I’d tried my damnedest not to think about it over the past week.
“I need to ask you something else,” he choked out. With his elbows resting on the table, his hands tugged at the hair of his lowered head. Realizing he couldn’t look at me as he asked worried me. And damn, did it hurt. It gave credibility to my worries that he wouldn’t be able to see me day in, day out with the baby of the one person he was sure to hate growing inside me.
“Look, I can leave now. When the baby is born, we can do a paternity test, and if….” I swallowed with difficulty. Then cleared my throat. “If it’s not yours, I’ll never bother you again. I’ll look for another job, leave here, then there will be no worries of you running into us.”
Saying “us” in reference to me and a baby was so alien, I wasn’t certain if I was awake or dreaming. The thought of leaving the only other place I’d called home also flipped my world on end. Truthfully, I didn’t want to go.
“Raiven, would you let me say what I have to say?” Weariness heavy in his words, he lifted his eyes to mine.
To keep myself from blurting out something stupid, I held my lips tight between my teeth. Tears threatened, but I rapidly blinked them away. Finally, I nodded.
The defeated breath he released didn’t help my insecurities.
“After I found the ultrasound, I didn’t know what to think. Which, by the way, was because Presley spilled your purse on the floor, not because I went through your purse. So many things, so many feelings, spun in my head. I was angry, hurt, upset, disappointed.” Each of those words was a dagger to my heart. “Hell, I even thought you might be just like Letty, filling me full of lies.”
“Lock—” He’d never really talked about Letty, and I’d been hesitant to ask since she seemed such a taboo subject. What I did know was it had to be difficult for him to talk about her death.
“No, Raiven. Where I’m going with this is… well, the more I thought, the more I had to accept that there was the possibility that the baby wasn’t mine. Granted, my thoughts had leaned more toward worry that it was one of my brothers. Hearing you say it could be that fucker was quite a blow. It took me aback because I wasn’t prepared for that part, and I should’ve been. You dated him. It is what it is. You didn’t know me, and I didn’t know you. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t matter.” He sighed.
“One of your brothers! What?” I exclaimed. Then the rest of what he said sunk in. “Wha
t do you mean, it doesn’t matter?” Breath caught in my throat, I waited for his response. Hope started to bubble in me regardless of how foolish I knew that was.
He stood quickly, and the chair fell backwards with a clatter. Hands splayed on the table, he leaned in toward me. “Raiven, you are mine, regardless of who you were with before or what happened between then and now. There was a reason we were brought together. There’s a reason for my inability to remember what my life was like before you—other than lonely. Despite my love for my daughter and my brothers, I was lonely. Except I didn’t want to let anyone in. Until you. So whether you like it or not…, you. Are. Mine.”
By the end of his declaration, my heart was erratically thumping, and heat crept up my chest and to my face. Blinking owlishly, I was speechless. “What if I don’t want to be with you?” Not a chance.
“Then I guess I’ll have to convince you that we belong together.” The corner of his lips kicked up, and my chest heaved with rapid breaths.
Without conscious thought, I sprang out of my seat. Much like his, my chair fell over with a clatter on the wood floor. My fingers threaded through his wayward, messy beard. Holding it like a lifeline, I leaned over, meeting him in the middle of the table where our lips crashed together.
My tears ran unchecked down my cheeks until they hit our connected lips. When his tongue teased the crease of my mouth, I knew he tasted them too.
A whimper escaped me as he kissed me with a volatile storm of emotion. It was so strong, I sensed it with everything in my being. His hands remained planted firmly to the table, allowing me to control our connection.
I wanted to climb over the table into his arms.
Trying to breathe through the kiss wasn’t enough for how worked up I was, and I eventually had to break away with a gasp. Sucking oxygen in like it was going out of style, I rested my forehead to his. Every so often I pressed a gentle kiss to his lips because their absence from mine was painful to my heart. Every other one lingered, and he would pull my upper or lower lip into his mouth where he’d catch it with his teeth.
Lock and Load: A Demented Sons MC Texas Novel Page 20