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“Hope, I’m in awe of how strong you are. You’ve been so meticulous with everything. Your diet, exercising—even though I know how much you hate getting up extra early to meet with Swan.”

She snorts and nods against me.

“Your vitamins,” I continue, “Haven’t missed a single doctor’s appointment. Minimized your stress by taking time off.”

Fuck. Went one too far. She stiffens right back up. “Yeah, except for the biggest case of my career: Porn Star and the Seven Horny Bikers.”

I rumble with laughter, and she smiles up at me.

“I think your count is off.”

“It was funnier that way,” she counters. “You sure Teller’s okay with us taking over his house for the day? He seems to value his privacy the same way you do.”

“What privacy? I finally got out of the clubhouse, and now those fuckers are over here every damn day.”

She chuckles and flops down on the bed, wrestling with one shiny blue shoe. “I can’t reach my feet.” The red on her cheeks spreads down her neck and over her chest.

“It’s okay. I got you. Sit back.”

She rolls onto her back with a huff. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll need you to help me up.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise as I slide her shoes on. “You sure these are comfortable?”

“Why? Do they look bad?”

Hope’s meditation and breathing exercises have come in handy for me once or twice already. I take a second before answering. “They look fine.”

I hold out my hands and pull her up. “Better?”

“No.”

“Now you’re just pouting.” I slap her ass and nod at the door. “Let’s go.”

“Jeez,” she fumes as she walks toward the stairs. “I still have a ways to go. Just how much bigger am I going to get?”

“As big as you need to.”

“Don’t start. You’re not the one pushing a watermelon—”

I hold up a hand because I’ve heard that one a couple times at our birthing class and the visual… is disturbing. “There’s no easy way to get the baby out. We know this. You’re going to be fine.”

She stops at the top of the stairs, and I brace myself for more of Hurricane Hope. But the winds seem to have shifted. She curls her fingers into my cut, pulling me closer. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Everything. But especially for helping me with my shoes.”

“Anytime.” My lips quirk and I lean down for a kiss. “Besides, you’ll probably be doing the same for me in about forty years.”

While the shower’s supposed to be for the girls, I’m not comfortable leaving Hope when she’s this unpredictable. Right now she says she’s fine, but if her mood shifts in the next three hours—or minutes—I don’t want her to have to wait for me to come pick her up.

Murphy and Teller plan to stay close to get things ready for the party later, and I figure I can be useful there.

Hope seems a lot more cheerful by the time we arrive. Thank fuck.

Mara and her daughter are already at the house, and Hope beams when she sees them.

“Oh my goodness, Cora. You’re getting so big.”

“Isn’t she?” Mara gushes. “Hi, Rock. Are you sticking around?”

“Yup. How’ve you been?”

“Not bad.” Her mouth curls up and I catch a hint of devilishness Hope swears her straightlaced friend has buried under her conservative sweater cardigans. “Getting any sleep?” she asks sweetly.

My gaze slides to Hope. “Not much lately.”

“Enjoy it now, Rock. Babies are amazing little cockblockers. Toddlers too.”

“So I hear. How’s Damon?”

“Good.”

Trinity slides my way and bumps me with her elbow. “Where are we at, Rock?”

I lean down and keep my voice low. “Earlier, I would’ve said a category three-point-five. Not quite a four. Now, about a two. You’re welcome.”

She snort-laughs. “I’ve got blueberries by the gallon. Is she still eating them?”

“Yup. Any which way you got ’em.”

“Thank God.” Trinity breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, Trinny. Everything looks really nice.”

“I’m such an idiot. I forgot she has the test this week. I should’ve had the party next weekend. But then Wrath said you had something going on, and—”

“Trin, it’s fine. Everything’s going to be okay.”

I stare up at the sky for a few. Is every female in my life nuts today? The sun and clouds have no answers for me, but Trinity eventually chills and takes over the “activities” part of the shower. I use that as my chance to escape into the backyard.

I find Murphy and Teller near a group of trees. The two biggest ones have a large hammock stretched between them. Murphy and Teller are wrestling with some sort of screen or enclosure.

“Need help?” I ask as I approach.

“Yes, Dad,” Murphy says. “The instructions came in picture form, and we still can’t figure it out.”

Teller chuckles and doesn’t disagree. “Carter ran to get some real tools.”

“Don’t you ever give that kid a day off?”

Teller laughs even harder. “Trust me, he wants this thing up as much as I do.”

“I don’t even want to know.”

“You have no idea the debauchery I’m subjected to here, Mr. North,” Carter says, coming up behind me.

“I can take a guess. How you doing, Carter?”

“Well, I’ve been traumatized. Again.”

“Shut up about it,” Teller says with a lazy smile.

“It’s nice and quiet back here.” I point at the half-built square on the ground in front of us. “What are you trying to do with the area?”

Teller nods to the hammock. “I put that up for Charlotte.”

“He proposed to her out here, so he’s building a monument to it,” Murphy explains with a straight face.

Ignoring him, Teller continues. “Sometimes we like to sleep under the stars. And—”

“And sometimes they do it naked. With no regard for the tender minds they’re inflicting a lifetime of scars upon,” Carter finishes.

Murphy and I burst out laughing, while Teller stands there wearing a proud-as-fuck smile. No shame whatsoever.

“Poor Charlotte,” Murphy says.

“Poor Charlotte?” Carter taps his chest. “What about poor Carter?”

“Anyway,” Teller says. “In the interest of saving Carter’s tender mind and Charlotte’s sanity, I’m putting up this pergola thing. The back has a canvas pull-down for privacy, but it’ll still feel like being outdoors, ya know?”

“Nice.”

“If we like it, maybe I’ll build something more permanent down the road.” He casts a look at Carter. “But for now—”

“It was an emergency situation,” Carter finishes.

“Teller,” I say, calling up what they refer to as my stern-dad voice. “I’d expect you to be more sympathetic to Carter’s predicament, considering…” I nod in Murphy’s direction.

“That my best friend is violating my baby sister on a daily basis?” Teller picks up on my comment and runs with it. “Why do you think I bought this thing?” He pokes Carter in the chest. “I

understand your pain, bro.”

“Why you gotta do that, Prez?” Murphy asks. “Just when I think he finally let it go, you stir him back up again.” He can barely contain his laughter, so I don’t think he’s upset with me as much as he’s poking fun at Teller.

“And here I was worried you’d be bored away from the clubhouse,” I say to Teller.

“Nope. Never a dull moment at the Whelan-Clark compound, Prez.”

Carter hands over the toolbox he brought, then stuffs his hands in his pockets. “So, uh, who else is coming?”

“Rest of the club a little later.” Teller tosses a few items on the tarp next to him.

“Is, uh, Swan coming too?”

Teller’s head snaps up, and an evil grin lights his face. “Why do you ask, Carter?”

Murphy piles on. “Is there something you want to tell us, young man?”

Carter’s gaze ping-pongs from me to the house, to the woods stretching behind the house, as if he’s planning his escape from the two determined assholes eager to needle him.

Taking mercy on the kid, I tip my head toward the house. “She should already be here. Probably inside with the girls.” As I suspected, a couple minutes later, he comes up with an excuse to duck into the house.

Murphy and Teller laugh their asses off. “Bro, when did they even meet?” Murphy asks.

Teller shrugs. “Alexa’s party? I don’t know.”

“You two know he’s not a prospect, right?” I ask.

“So? She can see whoever she—”

“That’s not what I meant.” I settle my stare on Teller. “He helps you out around here, no?”

“Yeah, he’s a big help. Why?”

“Then try not to be too much of a dick to him.”

“Uh, Prez,” Murphy says. “I’m not sure if Teller understands the words you’re saying.”

I answer without taking my eyes off Teller. “He understands me fine.”

“Carter knows I’m messing with him,” Teller insists. “Besides, you should hear the shit that comes out of his mouth. Kid’s tougher than he looks. He can hold his own.” He pauses for a minute and finally nods. “But I hear you, Prez.”

“All right.”

Hope

“Admit this is more fun than you expected,” Trinity says.

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