by Chloe Walsh
With that food for thought, and desperate to ease the tension in the room, I patted Noah's thigh and tossed out, "Well, the only scars on my body are the ones you put on me when you implanted your baby spawn in my body."
"Here's some advice I once got from a very wise man," Lucky piped up knowingly. Sitting forward in his seat, he reached down and picked up his beer bottle from the floor before taking a deep swig. "Never stoop down so low to pick up so little."
"Wow," Hope said after a moment, obviously having thought about what Lucky had said. "That's actually really good advice. Who told you that?"
"A police officer," Lucky said solemnly. Seconds later, he cracked a smile. "Right after he arrested me."
I didn’t know how Lucky did it, but just like that, all the tension vanished from the room, replaced instead with sniggering and laughter.
"On a serious note," Lucky added, rubbing his jaw. "Your family is beyond messed up – and I mean that in the least disrespectful way possible." Shuddering, he added, "It's like something out of a horror movie."
"Speaking of horror movies," I interjected, keen to keep the tone light and the topic away from evil relations. "Halloween is this weekend."
I was beyond grateful when Hope, having put her differences aside, turned to Noah and said, "Noah, your birthday's right around then, right?"
I felt my husband tense behind me. "And?"
"And we should do something," Hope shot back, rolling her eyes. "Have a party or something."
"I'm not really in a celebrating mood," I heard him say. Immediately, I knew where his thoughts had taken him.
Tommy…
"Tough shit," Hope countered. "Mom and Dad are throwing their annual Halloween party back at The Hill, and I'm thinking it could be fun to dress up and have a little fun for one night."
"Hope," Noah deadpanned. "Look at me. Do I look like someone who wears fancy dress costumes?"
"I don’t care," Hope shot back sweetly. "You're taking my best friend away from me when you go back on tour next week." Not if I could help it... "The very least you can do is put on a costume and humor me for one night."
"About that," I interjected nervously as I turned around and faced him. "Noah, I actually wanted to talk to you about the tour."
Immediately, I had his full attention. "What about it?'
I had spent the past two months secretly hoping the day Noah would return to the MFA would never come. I'd done everything in my power to dissuade him from returning to that damn cage, but neither my pleas or a bullet could sway him to reconsider. Now that we were only days away from him leaving, I knew it was time to tell him what I'd known from the moment I found out I was having this baby. "I'm not going on tour with you." The road was no place for a newborn and I hadn't exactly fitted in out there on the first leg. After the baby was born, I wouldn't be traveling anyway, so I figured why not get a start on it now.
I had expected Noah to get mad at my decision. Hell, I'd expected him to argue and protest and even go as far as storming out of the room.
What I hadn't expected him to do was laugh at me.
"I'm serious," I growled in irritation.
"I know you are," he shot back, still laughing. "That's what makes it so funny."
Shaking his head, he ruffled my hair and stood up. "You honestly think I'd let you out of my sight?" His own question made him laugh even more. "Good one, Thorn."
"What am I – a cat?" I snapped, taking a swing at him. "Don’t pet me."
"I just got you back in my life, and now you want to leave again?" Noah shot back, this time without any humor in his tone. "Not fucking happening."
"I'm not going on the tour, Noah," I growled as I struggled to get up off the floor.
Instantly, my husband's hand snaked out to help me. "Yeah, Thorn. You are."
Prideful or not, I caught ahold of his hand and struggled to my feet. "And FYI, you're the one who is leaving. I'm simply stating that I want to stay in our family home – see how I called it our family. Because that's what we are now, Noah," I argued, poking him in the chest with my index finger. "A family – or at least that's what we're going to be in a few weeks." Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Hope squirming in her seat. I knew we were making our friends feel uncomfortable, but we were due a good verbal sparring session.
It had been too long…
Noah folded his arms and glared down at me. To anyone else, he would have looked menacing, but to me, he just looked like a stubborn old goat. "It's not happening."
"Don't look at me like that?" I glared up at my husband's scowling face. "You'd swear I asked you to eat your firstborn, Noah."
"Considering, you're growing my 'firstborn' that puts you in the direct line of fire, Thorn," he shot back, not giving an inch. No surprises there. "Change the subject. Please."
"One of these days you're going to have to make peace with the fact that you can't wrap me up in cotton wool, Noah," I hissed. "I'm not made of glass, and I'm not something you can bundle up in your suitcase and take with you whenever you need to work." I felt like kicking the floor in anger. "I'm a human being and I need a home. I have urges."
He cocked a brow. "Urges?"
"Yes. Nesting urges." Shaking my head, I attempted to explain calmly. "I am almost eight months pregnant. I am tired and swollen and exhausted. I don't want to travel anymore. I want to stay in one place, with one gynecologist and one hospital and one bloody bed. I want to wear my pajamas till noon and eat ice-cream out of the tub on my couch. I want to pee in privacy and not have a dozen butch men staring after me every time my sciatic nerve flares up."
"And if you go into labor while I'm away?"
I rolled my eyes. "Then I'll have Hope come with me. I hadn't planned on you being in there with me anyway."
"I'm going to be in there with you, Thorn."
"No. You're not." I shuddered. "I don’t want you seeing all of that coming out of there."
Noah snorted. "I'm a fighter, Thorn. Blood is a daily occurrence to me."
"I'm not having this conversation with you," I shot back, cheeks flushed.
"You don't think I'll be able to handle it?" Noah's expression was incredulous. "Bullshit, Thorn. Fucking bullshit." He placed a hand on my belly. "We're in this together."
"Fine." I threw my hands up in the air. "You can come in with me and watch me push half of my insides out of a hole that you'll never look at in the same way again!" I stepped closer to him and pointed my finger in his face. "I know what I'm talking about, buddy. I watched the scene in Ace Ventura with the Rhino." I clenched my thighs together at the thought.
"The hell are you talking about?" Noah demanded. "What the fuck does a Rhino have to do with anything?"
"Oh it has plenty to do with it," I shot back, feeling really confused. "Actually, it doesn’t." Frowning in confusion, I muttered. "I've gone way off track, haven’t I?"
"Just a little," Colton quipped from somewhere behind me. "But keep going," he chuckled. "This is better than porn."
"Porn?" I turned and gaped at him.
"Come on." Colt rolled his eyes. "We all know you're going to bang next." Grinning, he added, "I would say use protection, but ah… you didn’t get the last memo on that."
"Do you want me to sit on you?" I demanded. "Because I'll do it, Colt," I added, glaring at the middle triplet. "I mean it. I'll sit on you and squash that pride and joy of yours back into pre-puberty stage."
"No need." Lifting his palms up, Colton stifled a laugh. "I'm shutting up now."
"You're not staying here without me," Noah said, drawing my attention back to his handsome face. With finality in his tone, he added, "Put it out of your head, because it's not happening."
Trying to get Noah to do what I wanted was like pulling teeth… from a lion. "Do you have to be so damn pigheaded?" I glared at the side of my husband's head. "You'd swear I asked you to eat your firstborn, Noah."
"Considering you're growing my 'firstborn', that puts you in the direct line
of fire, Thorn," he shot back, not giving an inch. No surprises there. "Change the subject. Please."
"Not a chance in hell," I retorted, smiling sweetly.
My smile grew when Noah's frown deepened. "Drop it," he muttered, exasperated. "For the sake of my sanity, please fucking drop this, Thorn. Damn."
"Never," I shot back. "I'm like a dog with a bone, remember?"
"I can stay behind and keep an eye on her," Lucky offered. "It's only for six weeks," he added, "And she's right. The road is no place for a woman in her condition."
I grinned in victory.
Yes. Lucky was on my side in this, and his word meant more than most to Noah. Having him back me up was a huge deal.
"See," I encouraged, capitalizing on Noah's current frown of confusion. "Lucky will stay here with me. The boys will go with you." I beamed up at my outraged looking husband. "It's a win-win."
"A win-win," Noah deadpanned.
I nodded eagerly.
Letting out a string of curse words under his breath, Noah ran a hand through his hair and growled, "You're all fucking crazy." He turned and looked Lucky dead in the eye. "And you," he said, tone low and full of contempt. "I thought you of all people would understand."
"I do," Lucky countered quickly. "But the deal is in place, man." He stared at Noah meaningfully.
I narrowed my eyes. "What deal?"
"It's been eight weeks, Noah." Lucky cocked a brow, ignoring my question. "Eight weeks of what?"
"Silence," Noah replied in a strained tone.
Lucky nodded. "Exactly."
"Okay," Hope exclaimed, climbing to her feet. "This code talk is too much for me to even try and attempt to crack." Turning to her brothers, she gave them the nod and said, "Come on, boys. I'll give you a ride home."
"Hell fucking no," Colt shot back with a grin. "It's just getting interesting."
Ugh.
Tearing my attention from the Carter's, I looked up at my husband and said, "Noah, you can't ship me around like a parcel. I know my own mind." I watched him stiffen, but he didn’t respond, which meant he was listening to me – reluctantly – but still. It was a start…
****
Noah
The woman was bat shit crazy.
Standing here, swollen with a belly full of baby, talking about rhinos and not allowing me into the delivery room. It was like a scene from a movie.
One I was playing the lead role in.
First, I'd been coerced into attending a goddamn costume party by Hope, and now Teagan was trying to ditch me.
"What's so funny?" she snapped when I laughed into her face, staring up at me with venom in her eyes. "You know," she added, not giving me a chance to answer her. "Sometimes, I want to scratch your beady eyes out of their sockets."
"Beady?" I threw my head back and laughed. "What am I now, a fucking insect?"
"You're something alright," she snarled, red faced and flustered. "An asshole."
"Original, baby." I winked. "You love me being an asshole."
"No, I love your ass," Teagan corrected me, without missing a beat. "I do not love your asshole tendencies."
I laughed again and that only seemed to make her angrier.
"God, Noah," Teagan hissed. "You really know how to gyrate on my nerves."
I cocked a brow and smirked. "Come closer and I'll use my dick to gyrate all over your…"
"If you want in my pants again, you won't finish that sentence," Teagan warned as she stood belly to crotch against me. "I'm not going on tour with you. So you can either stay here with me like a sane and rational person who realizes how close they have come to death, or you can go and be a headstrong ape on tour." Dropping her hands on her hips, she glared up at me, with venom in her hazel eyes. "Either way, I'm staying right here."
"Thorn," I said in a warning tone, fully aware that we had four pairs of eyes on us. "Not here." I was pretty sure she enjoyed the drama. She enjoyed making our friends feel uncomfortable. It was a gift of hers – making people sweat and squirm.
God knows she'd been doing it to me for long enough...
Defiant as ever, Teagan flashed a sarcastic smile and shot back, "Yes, here."
Christ, there was something seriously deranged about her. And it was that deranged little quirk I found so endearing. Fuck, maybe I was the one with issues.
Shaking my head, I stepped around my tiny wife and stalked into the kitchen, out of earshot and desperate to reel in my temper.
Wrong or not, I couldn’t afford to say the wrong thing to her. I knew full well the wrong word could cause an onset of waterworks from my pregnant wife.
Walking over to the toaster, I grabbed two slices of bread and popped them down. In the last two months I had quickly learned there was only one way to silence my pregnant wife, and that was to feed her. Teagan's food of choice these days was toast smeared with cheese and brown ketchup – yeah, I kid you not. Brown fucking ketchup.
I'd lost count of the number of times I'd gone out in the middle of the night to get extra damn bottle of ketchup.
I don’t fit in here... The thought popped into my head as I scavenged for food in the luxurious kitchen of South Peak Road. But my wife does...
These past two months had been the happiest I'd seen Teagan in…well, ever. She smiled, she laughed, she sang. She played her guitar. She was in love with life again and her happiness was contagious. When my wife was happy, she looked like a glowing angel with her bright blonde hair and angelic looking face. Of course, when she opened her mouth she ruined that image, but I loved her dirty mouth and the fact she had no filter.
I had a feeling that Teagan was one of those people who were as surprised by what came out of their own mouths as the people they were talking to.
I watched her when she didn’t know it. I memorized her movements. The way she tapped her foot when she read, or when she rolled her sleeves up when she was guilty. And she always clenched her toes when she couldn’t remember the line of a song she was singing or the way she talked the whole way through every film we had ever watched together. She was insane, and wild, and I'd never loved anyone as much as I loved her. She was uncensored and careless and I honest to god lived for the woman.
Which was why I couldn’t leave her behind when I went on tour next week. I knew I was being selfish and a shitty husband by forcing her arm, but leaving her was not something I was capable of doing.
Even if it was only six weeks.
I had this need inside of me; a constant, never changing urge to do right by her. To keep her safe. After all, I was the one who had brought danger and death into her life. It was on me to shield her from it. I couldn’t do that if I was hundreds of miles away on the other side of the country. The fact of the matter was she changed my life. She gave me a purpose. A reason for everything. Leaving her here, unprotected, wasn’t something I was physically capable of doing.
"I don't understand why you're being like this."
Teagan's voice came from behind me and I wasn’t surprised by her question. It was normal. Perfectly normal. But then, she wouldn’t understand my reasons.
She would never truly know how fucking much I meant it when I told her she was the only family I had. Yeah, I had relatives now, but Teagan was my family. She was my home. And her body was housing my kid – my flesh and blood. The only good thing I'd managed to make in a lifetime of bad. I couldn’t be separated from them. Not when I'd spent my whole damn life on my own.
"I ask you to stay and you refuse," Teagan continued to say as she walked over to where I was leaning against the kitchen counter. Standing in front of me, eyes wide and sharp as her dagger tongue, she added, "I tell you on numerous occasions that I'm afraid for you to go back on this tour and you ignore every one of my worries and concerns." Crossing her arms over her chest, she exhaled a heavy sigh and shook her head sadly. "And now I tell you that I don't want to go on this tour and you ignore me?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but Teagan continued to talk, obviously no
t finished with making me feel like a piece of shit.
"Worse than ignore me; you think you can order me?" she narrowed her eyes in disgust. "Like I'm a piece of property that belongs to you."
"We belong to each other," I replied, reaching for the toast that had just popped.
"Huh," Teagan scoffed, swiping the toast before I could. "What a joke." Grabbing the tub of butter and a bread knife, she began to butter the toast almost viciously. "What utter bull."
I cocked a brow. "Christ, you're a moody little thing?"
Popping a piece of toast in her mouth, Teagan stuck the butter knife in the air and pointed it at my chest. "Call me moody again, Noah. Go on. I dare you."
"What are you gonna do, Thorn? Butter me to death?" I shot back, snatching one of the slices of toast.
"Hey!" Teagan roared, looking on in dismay as I took a huge bite out of her snack "I'm bloody starving. You just took the food right out of your baby's mouth."
"Drama queen," I muttered, forcing back a laugh. Shaking my head, I leaned my hip against the counter and stared at my wife. "You're adorable.
"And you're an asshole," she countered swiftly, not giving me an inch. "And here's another thing; if I own you as much as you own me, then quit the tour." Shaking her head, Teagan stepped closer and put a hand on my chest. "Please." Looking up at me with those big brown eyes, she begged, "Call your boss and tell him to screw his cage."
"Are you afraid?" I asked, horrified. "Is that why you don’t want me to fight – why you don’t want to come with me? Because you think something will happen to me?"
"No," she shot back shakily. "I'm not afraid. I am petrified."
"Thorn…nothing's going to happen –"
"You don't know that, Noah!" Her eyes watered. "You can't predict the future."
I could see the hurt in her eyes.
I was letting her down.
"I need to do this, Teagan." I hoped she could understand.