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Ruthless

Page 20

by Gillian Archer


  Make that years.

  Nicole gave me a concerned half smile. “I tried to tell Em that you were okay. But I gotta say you look like shit, girl.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I climbed onto the tall chair and leaned against the back with a huff.

  “Ah, come on. You know what we mean. Me and Em can tell something’s wrong. Despite the fact that you’ve been MIA lately, you can’t hide anything from us.”

  “That’s not exactly true,” I mumbled under my breath.

  “What was that?” Emily asked.

  “I asked if this one’s mine?” I pulled the closest cup toward me. My earlier nausea a distant memory, the intoxicating aroma of my usual skinny no-foam, extra-hot caramel latte had me eager for a taste. But I had to wait—the ridiculously hot coffee took forever to get to drinking temperature, but then that was how I liked most things in life. With the slow burn of anticipation.

  Although if memory served, that wasn’t how I’d gotten into my current predicament. More like fast and hard and now. My lips curved at the memory. God, that man was potent.

  “Of course.” Nicole leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “So spill. What’s going on?”

  “I, uh…” A hot, prickling sensation swept over my scalp as my eyes filled with tears. The thought of saying it out loud was terrifying. Like it suddenly made it more real. Apparently the dozen pregnancy tests earlier hadn’t driven the point all the way home. Could I tell them? Shouldn’t Zag be the first person I told? And yet I was afraid of what he’d say—how he’d react. I needed to get my own mind around it before I blurted it out. “I, um, can someone else start? I need a minute.”

  “Oh, honey,” Emily was off her stool again and at my side. “Are you okay? I mean really? It’s nothing life-threatening, right?”

  I gave a soggy laugh. “No, not life-threatening.”

  Just the exact opposite.

  “Then it can wait.” Nicole gave me her suspicious side-eye, then twirled her curly brown hair into a haphazard bun and pushed a pencil in to hold it in place. “We’ll sit here and gossip and swig coffee until you’re ready.”

  Was there any doubt why I loved these two so much? Holding the tears at bay, I smiled at the two women who I could always count on. “I haven’t seen you guys in forever, so fill me in. What’s new with you two?”

  Nicole immediately launched into a story about the latest escapades at her job. She worked at a gaming company and did something with code. I zoned out every time she started talking about her work—it was way over my head, except the gossipy bits like how the whole HR meeting with her and her boss went down. Somehow he’d still held on to his job after that whole claiming-Nicole’s-work-as-his-own debacle. The bastard.

  Emily stayed glued to my side. She patted my arm occasionally. What had started out as cute and cuddly concern was quickly morphing into cloying and claustrophobic. I gave Em one last hug, then none too subtly urged her into her own chair. Now I could breathe.

  I nodded along to Nic’s story and reached for my coffee. When the cup was halfway to my mouth, a thought occurred to me. Should pregnant women even drink coffee? My arm froze, suspending my drink in midair. This was one more shining example of how my life was never going to be the same again. I was afraid to drink my coffee, for crying out loud. What was next?

  “Jess? Jessica! Are you okay?”

  I blinked at Nicole. How long had I been zoned out? I set my coffee back down and buried my face in my hands. “I’m pregnant.”

  Immediately all my doubts started crowding in. What was I going to do? I couldn’t be a mother—I still needed to grow up myself.

  I waited for my friends to jump in and reassure me—say something—but they didn’t.

  I heard the usual sounds of the coffeehouse—the soft melody of Kenny G below the murmur of conversations and the whooshing of the milk steamer—but not a single sound from my table. I peeked through my fingers to check if my friends were still there. They both sat frozen with their mouths agape.

  Okay, maybe they did hear me.

  Finally, Emily spoke. “What? How?”

  I lifte d my head and gave her an incredulous look.

  “I don’t mean that. I don’t want the dirty details. Gah. But how? I mean, don’t you and Zag use…something?”

  I flushed. “We might’ve had a ‘just the tip’ moment.”

  Nicole finally closed her gaping mouth and cleared her throat awkwardly. “That was more than I wanted to know. Are you sure, though? Sometimes those tests can give false positives.”

  “I took ten. All positive.”

  “Oh.” Nicole sat back in her chair and took another swig of her coffee. “You’re definitely knocked up, then.”

  “Nic, shut up!” Emily hissed. “You are not helping.”

  I looked over my shoulders to see if our interesting conversation was attracting attention. It wasn’t. I was extra twitchy given what we were talking about. Maybe we should’ve gotten together at Em’s house instead. Apparently a public place wasn’t going to temper their reactions at all. But I’d really wanted my caffeine fix—which was getting cold, since I didn’t know if I could actually drink coffee while pregnant.

  Emily laid her hand on mine, drawing my attention back to the table. “What does Zag think about it?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t told him yet. We don’t talk about the deep stuff. I don’t even know how he feels about me. But it’s there in my eyes every time I look at him, and I think I see it in his, too. It’s like we’re playing a game of emotional chicken and the first one to say the words loses.”

  Nicole rolled her eyes. “That is seriously fucked up.”

  “Nic,” Em scolded.

  “No, it is. You’ve been seeing this guy for months. You either love him or you don’t. He either loves you or he doesn’t. That’s it. But regardless, you gotta tell him. He has a right to know. It’s his baby, too.”

  “But it’s my body.”

  A heavy silence hung over the table. The implication of that statement wasn’t lost on anyone. I looked down at the tabletop, afraid of the judgmental stares. Shit, what was I going to do? My eyes filled with tears I fought against. I came to my friends for support. Unwavering support no matter what I decided. Was I wrong? Should I have kept this to myself until I knew what I wanted to do?

  “Jess, it is your decision. We know that.” Nicole moved her coffee cup across the table to take my hand in hers. “I just think given how you feel about Zag—and how you think about him—you owe it to him to get his input, too. But you don’t have to. No matter what, this is your decision and we’ll help you whatever you decide.”

  Emily brushed my hair out of my eyes. “We love you, Jess. We’re here for you. Never doubt that.”

  I nodded. My heart was so full of love at that moment I couldn’t get any words past the lump in my throat.

  “Now drink up before your ridiculously expensive latte gets cold. Or do you need a warm-up?” Emily offered.

  “I’m scared to drink it. Is coffee bad for a baby?”

  Both Nicole and Emily shrugged.

  “I have no idea,” Nicole said. “I’ve never thought about it.”

  “Me either,” Emily replied.

  I pushed back from the table with a sigh. “Anyone up for a trip to the bookstore? I think I need one of those pregnancy books.”

  Chapter 24

  SEPTEMBER 19

  A week later, I popped some gum in my mouth as I left the restroom at work. Whoever called it morning sickness was full of shit. Here it was four o’clock in the afternoon, and I’d had to rush off. Again. Thank God my shift was over. After eight hours on my feet and two close calls, I really wanted to go home and collapse on my couch.

  Weaving through the busy casino floor, I made my way to the elevators on the other side of the lobby. Although designed to be pleasant, the constant clanging of the slot machines combined with the roar of the crowd was wearing on my nerves. I’d never hated my job—or my l
ife—more than I did at that exact moment. My head hurt, my feet hurt, my cheeks were sore from my fake smile, and my stomach was threatening another upheaval.

  Not to mention the stress of my whole secret-keeping endeavor. Despite what Nic said, I wanted to get my head around what I wanted before I told Zag. Which meant I was avoiding him and my parents.

  So I’d spent the last three days dodging phone calls from my mom—of which there were plenty, since my lack of attendance at the family barbecues had been noticed and my excuses were running dry.

  As I rode the elevator up to my parking level, my phone dinged with a new text message.

  From Zag: You, me & a bottle of choc syrup.

  I couldn’t help but smile at his suggestion. I did have a huge weakness for chocolate. And him. The thought of drizzling syrup all over that rock-hard torso of his…oh Lordy. Unfortunately, I had a feeling it was more the morning sickness and not the deviant thoughts that made me light-headed. As much as I’d like to say yes, please—seriously, who would turn down rock-hard abs drizzled with chocolate?—my stomach was saying hell no.

  For the umpteenth time since I’d found out I was pregnant, I had to come up with some lame but believable reason for why I couldn’t make it. What excuse could I tell him that I hadn’t already used?

  I was still searching my aching head when the elevator doors opened on my parking level to reveal Zag standing next to his motorcycle.

  With the perfect timing that I was really beginning to appreciate, my stomach wobbled again. I bolted from the elevator, ran through the double doors, and heaved into the trash can conveniently located on every floor.

  Through my misery, I heard the distinct clip of Zag’s booted footsteps.

  Why me? I was tempted to hide my head in the trash can, but one whiff quickly dispelled that thought.

  “Damn, princess,” Zag rumbled from somewhere above me. “I’m gonna guess chocolate sauce is out for the evening.”

  I chuckled weakly. “You think?”

  “Fuck me, babe. Give me your keys.”

  I blinked up at him. That’s all he had to say? He’d just watched me yak my brains out in a parking garage and he wanted my keys? And why did he have to look so amazingly gorgeous when I felt wrung out like a hag?

  Zag’s eyes narrowed. “No way in hell am I letting you drive home when you’re sick.”

  “I’m not drunk or hungover.” I waved a limp hand. “I’ll be fine.”

  “No, what you will be is horizontal in the backseat while I drive you home.” Zag reached out to grab my purse.

  I danced away, then really wished I hadn’t moved so fast. My head swam. As much as I’d like to lean on him, I was afraid to be alone with him. I still hadn’t decided how to break the news. Would he accuse me of trapping him? Or sleeping around on him? I still wasn’t a hundred percent at peace with the knowledge myself. I wasn’t ready to handle someone else’s freak-out right now.

  And I think I might have left my What to Expect book on the coffee table. Not exactly the way I wanted to tell him.

  “Really, Zag. I’ll be fine.”

  “Nope.” He feinted left, then snatched my purse when I moved to block him. He held my keys up triumphantly. “Let’s go.”

  “But your bike—”

  “Will still be here when I come back for it. No one around here’s stupid enough to mess with a Brother’s bike.”

  I tried to ignore the reference to his club. I knew I had to accept him for the whole of who he was. He wasn’t changing. Although given my current situation, it was getting more difficult to do by the day.

  While I mentally weighed the mess I’d made of my life, Zag dropped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him. “Come on, princess. I’ll take you home and we’ll get you better.”

  I closed my eyes as I felt him kiss the top of my head. And then he had to go and do something like that. Oh, I was a goner.

  All the fight left me and I meekly followed as he guided me to my car and urged me into the backseat.

  As he drove through the parking garage and later the city streets, I buried my head in my arms and tried to find my courage. I wanted to tell him—he deserved to know. But honestly I was scared. Not of what he’d do to me, but of what would happen to us. I loved the gentle caring man he showed to only me. If I were totally honest with myself, I’d admit I’d fallen in love with him months ago. I just didn’t know what to do with that.

  It might be cowardly of me, but I wanted to enjoy this as long as possible. There would always be an opportunity to tell him. My morning sickness combined with the insanity of my life left me feeling vulnerable enough. I didn’t want to add to it.

  I’d tell him after the whole thing with Preacher was settled. Despite the fact that the rogue biker was MIA, the preliminary hearing had been scheduled. And I’d been notified that I’d have to testify. Once all the chaos of constantly watching my back was over with, I’d bite the bullet and do it. Until then I wanted to enjoy the dangerous, gorgeous, and generous man I’d fallen in love with.

  Confessions could wait for another day.

  I tried to put the thoughts from my head as he put an arm around me and guided me up the steps to my rented house. But it was always in the back of my head, mocking me with every step I took.

  Tell him. He deserves to know. Scaredy-cat.

  I stumbled over the threshold and Zag caught me.

  “Whoa, princess. You okay?”

  I nodded, even as a film of tears covered my sight. Liar. I was keeping a huge secret from the man I loved. Nothing was okay about that.

  He’d left me just inside the living room while he locked the dead bolt. “Zag?” I called weakly.

  “I know, baby. Give me two minutes and we’ll have you all bundled up in bed. You’ll feel better before you know it.”

  I wouldn’t feel better until I came clean. “Zag, you should sit down. I have to tell you something.”

  “The only person who’s going to sit down is you. In bed. Let’s go.”

  My heart melted at his concerned yet firm tone. But this was important. “I have something to tell you. Something that you need to hear.”

  “Then tell me when you’re sitting in that bed. Let’s go.”

  Annoyed at his commanding attitude, I turned and plodded to the bedroom. I tossed off my black flats and peeled off the itchy pantsuit the hotel-casino required front-desk staff to wear. I hated the damn thing. Clad only in my bra and panties, I pulled back the comforter and climbed in. “Happy now?”

  “As long as you’re hurting, no, I’m not happy.”

  Now why’d he have to go and be so damn sweet? All my anger drained out of me with that one adorable statement. How could I not love him? “I’m sorry. It’s just when you get all caveman and demanding I can’t help but get kinda pissed.”

  “You can’t relax long enough to let someone take care of you?”

  That was the pot calling the kettle black. When Zag got a sore throat last month, he’d resisted my every attempt to take care of him. I opened my mouth to remind him when he cut me off.

  “Now lie back and let me take care of you, dammit.”

  My jaw snapped closed. How could one man be caring and so annoying all at the same time?

  He mumbled something, then clomped into the kitchen. I could hear him muttering the entire way. It would’ve been cute if he wasn’t so damn high-handed. And as soon as he came back, I was going to give him a piece of my mind.

  That was the last coherent thought I had before I drifted off.

  —

  I woke up hours later to a darkened room. Blinking through bleary eyes, I saw the alarm clock on my nightstand. Ten twenty-five. Holy crap, I’d slept six hours. I must’ve really needed some rest. Not that I’d ever admit as much to Zag.

  Thirsty, I kicked off the blankets binding me and cautiously sat up. For once the room didn’t spin around me.

  “You feeling any better, babe?” Zag whispered.

  I
slowly twisted around, and my breath caught at the sight of him lying on the other side of the bed, his head propped up on one hand. A shaft of light from the hallway gave his eyes a haunting quality.

  “Yeah,” I whispered back.

  Zag smiled. “Good.”

  “I was gonna go get something to drink.”

  “I left a Sprite on your nightstand, but if you want something else—”

  “No, this is great.” I grabbed the still-cold can, cracked the top, and took a long swig. “Thanks.”

  Zag smiled in reply.

  I put the can down and burrowed back into bed, this time facing Zag. I stared into his face and all I could think was I’m pregnant. Should I blurt it out like that? Drop it on him like a bomb? Or was there a better way to break the news?

  “How much better are you feeling?” Zag snuggled close and gave my arm a nipping kiss. “Good enough to…”

  He reached over and thumbed my left nipple. I sucked in a breath at the caress on my newly sensitive breasts.

  “I should go brush my teeth,” I protested.

  “No time,” Zag murmured as he pulled down my bra. “I have to leave in an hour for business. Plus there’s Street Vibrations in a week or so. Can’t afford to be sick.”

  I knew what business meant. Zag worked as a mechanic at a local garage. No way in hell were they open at midnight on a Thursday. He was meeting the boys for True Brothers MC business. Whatever that meant. Irked, I batted his hand away. “So you’re going to get me all turned on, then leave?”

  “No, princess.” Zag pinned my wrist to the bed and leaned down to nuzzle my breast. His mouth moving ever closer to my tingling nipple. “We’re going to do you.”

  “Oh.” My irritation faded. If I couldn’t have him for the whole night, I guess this was a good trade-off. And I really loved it when we did me. I could feel his hot breath on my chest. He thumbed one nipple, teasing it into a hard, throbbing peak. I strained closer. I wanted to feel his lips and that amazing scraping thing he did with his teeth. I wanted more. “Oh my god, Zag, please.”

  “Is my girl impatient?” His lips brushed against my nipple with every word.

 

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