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Burned_Viking Bastards MC

Page 16

by Christina Phillips


  I don’t know how long we stand there, holding each other as long overdue healing slowly washes through us. Finally, he lifts his head, and I’m lost in the blue of his eyes.

  “I need to hear you say it, babe.” His voice is gravelly, like he hasn’t used it in a hundred years. “Are you my woman? For keeps?”

  Tears prickle the backs of my eyes, and I blink furiously. Not going to cry now. “I’ve always been your woman.” A tear escapes anyway, and he captures it with the pad of his thumb. “And you’ve always been my man.”

  A slow smile cracks his harsh facade, wiping years from his face. “I’ve put my place on the market. Soon as that sells, we can buy ourselves a house so you can have your own backyard. Better late than never, huh?”

  “Sounds good. It’ll be pretty crowded in my small apartment otherwise.”

  “I don’t take up much room.” He grins at me, and I wrap my arms around him. There’ll never be a more perfect moment to tell him than this.

  “That’s debatable, but I wasn’t thinking about you.” I kiss the tip of his nose. Unlike the last time, there’s no fear of the future mixed in with my joy. “We’re having a baby.”

  His cocky grin fades, and something akin to awe flickers over his face. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. I only found out this afternoon. I planned to call you tonight.”

  His eyes close. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

  “Not lately.” I sniffle back tears. Stupid hormones. But it’s more than that, and I know it. “I never stopped loving you.”

  He gives a hoarse laugh and gently presses his palm over my abdomen. “I’ll make every lost day up to you, babe. That’s a promise.”

  I slide my fingers through his hair. “You’ve already made up for them.”

  His sigh echoes through my heart. “Nah, I haven’t. But I will.” He leans in close, his scruff grazing my cheek, and his familiar scent of leather and cologne wraps around me like a velvet caress. “I’m cooking dinner tonight. With cherries.”

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  Ty

  “You look beautiful. I love your dress,” Jas says to Grace, and I watch her as Amelia joins them. It’s the first time we’ve been back to L.A. since I moved to Florida, and truth is I don’t miss it. But Jas wouldn’t hear of us not being here for Zach and Grace’s wedding.

  Sure, I’ve kept in contact with my brothers, and a couple of months ago Zach and Gage and their old ladies rode across the country to visit for a weekend. Jas and I had just moved and, like we’d always planned, it’s an old house that needs to be completely gutted. The guys helped me get a good start on renovating the bathroom and kitchen while the girls made sure Jas took it easy by talking weddings and babies. It was the only way to keep her from picking up a sledgehammer, and there’s no way she’s doing any hard labor period, never mind when she’s pregnant.

  Gage gives me the nod and stands beside me, clutching a champagne glass like it’s a live scorpion. “I’d kill for a beer.”

  I grin. Zach might not have gotten married in a cathedral, but I wasn’t far off, and the reception’s being held in the ballroom of one of the most exclusive hotels in the city. Not my scene at all, but it’s fucking crazy what a man will do for the woman he loves.

  Such as flying instead of riding, but there’s no way in hell Jas is getting on the Harley until after the baby’s born.

  “Zach’s never going to live this down.”

  Gage laughs. “You got that right. Any time he gives me shit, I’m throwing this wedding in his face.”

  “Ty.”

  My good mood freezes, and I swing about to face my mom. We’ve spoken a few times over the last six months, mainly because Jas insisted, but I haven’t forgiven her. She might not have imagined Viper would take things that far, but she still sent her brother to my girl, and that’s something I’ll never forget. Emailing a groveling apology five months ago for everything that happened was a start, but I guess I’m not as magnanimous as Jas.

  “It’s good to see you again.” She smiles, but doesn’t grab my arm or lean in for her usual kiss. “I’d like to speak to Jas.”

  I’m barely aware when Gage beats a hasty retreat, as Angie’s request hammers through my head. She never asks permission to do anything. It’s an olive branch, and I have the vindictive urge to tell her to shove it, and only one thing holds me back.

  Jas.

  Over the last six months I’ve seen how important family is to her. How much she missed out on when she was a kid. Her dad and stepmom are great, really excited about their first grandkid, and involved in every prenatal milestone.

  Jas wants my parents to be a part of our kid’s life. I’m the one holding back, even though I know it’s breaking my mom’s heart.

  I exhale a measured breath. “Okay.” I lead her to where Jas stands just a few short feet away, and she turns and smiles at me, before catching sight of Angie.

  Her smile doesn’t waver, and my heart aches. How much do I love this woman?

  “Angie.” Jas sounds as though there aren’t years of bitterness between them. I’m the one who’s still bitter. “I was hoping we’d have a chance to catch up.”

  “Well, you’re looking great.” Mom hesitates, like she’s not sure how Jas will take her next comment. “I guess Ty’s told you, but Jett and I are really happy about everything. The baby,” she adds, as though clarification is needed.

  I slide my arm around Jas’s waist, my hand cradling her in a protective gesture, even though she doesn’t need the moral support anymore. Maybe I’m the one who needs her touch to keep me grounded.

  “So are we.” Jas glances at me, and I drown in her beautiful brown eyes. There’s no longer any haunting trace of sorrow, just hope and happiness, and the small, jagged wound deep in my heart fades a little more.

  “Yeah.” My voice is gruff. There’s so much emotional shit that crashes through me whenever I think of the future it’s all I can manage. But Jas knows what I mean and that’s enough.

  “I know the distance isn’t ideal,” she says. “But Ty and I want you and Jett to know you’re always welcome to visit. We want you involved in our child’s life.”

  Mom clears her throat, something I’ve never heard her do before. “We’d love that.” She takes a deep breath. “Thanks, Jas.”

  “Don’t thank me. I never knew my grandparents, and I don’t want that for my child.”

  My mom nods, and some of the tension seeps from her. “Okay. I can’t promise I won’t spoil this kid at every opportunity, though.”

  “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

  A shiver inches along my arms as my old lady and mom chat as though everything’s fine. Right at that moment, Junior kicks my palm as though trying to join in the conversation.

  You have to let it go. Jas’s words echo in my mind. I might not ever forget, but it’s time to start forgiving. For the sake of my new family.

  There’s a pause, and it’s my chance to show her I’m willing to begin rebuilding bridges.

  “Hey, Mom. Do you and Dad want to come visit and stay for New Year’s dinner?” I glance at Jas. Like every good idea, this was hers, too, and I told her no way was I ready for that.

  But I am. I have to be. And when Mom takes Jas’s hand and then mine, I know it’s the right decision.

  When she eventually leaves, Jas loops her arms around my neck. “I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of you than I am right now.”

  I hold her tight, our baby safe between us. “Just never forget. You’ll always come first.”

  Her smile kills me. And then she goes onto her toes and whispers in my ear. “I’m going to remind you of that tonight when I get you alone in our hotel room.”

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  Acknowledgments

  Some books are harder to wri
te than others, and I sometimes wondered if I’d ever be able to finish Burned. Huge thanks and gratitude to my amazing editor, Candy Havens, for your faith in me! To my long suffering CPs, Sara and Amanda, thank you for having my back, I’d be rocking in the corner without your support! And my wonderful family—thank you for being my collective rock :)

  About the Author

  Christina Phillips is an ex-pat Brit who now lives in sunny Western Australia with her high school sweetheart and their family. She enjoys writing paranormal, historical and contemporary romance but whether the hero is a fallen angel, tough warrior or sexy mortal, the romance will be sizzling and the heroine will bring her hero to his knees. She loves hearing from her readers!

  Christina is addicted to good coffee, expensive chocolate and bad boy heroes. She is also owned by three gorgeous cats who are convinced the universe revolves around their needs. They are not wrong.

  www.christinaphillips.com

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