Page 20 of Rough Patch

Shit. “Don’t bother. I won’t be able to sleep anyway. I’ve got too much on my mind.” Grier’s fault.

He hung the towel on the hook and walked out of the bathroom to pull a pair of boxers from the drawer in his dresser. The one that made her room too crowded. She’d had to move her reading chair into the living room. Grier’s fault.

A month ago, this man in his underwear would have had her ripping her own clothes off to get to him, but now, it annoyed her. She’d bought him twenty pairs of pajama pants that were dry rotting on a shelf in the closet. She huffed out a sigh. “What’s wrong?”

She sat up and twisted to face him. “I bought you pajamas. You think you could wear them, just once maybe, so it isn’t a total waste of money?”

“Sure.”

And really, did he have to be so agreeable. About every damned thing? He came back out of the closet, a ridiculous pair of plaid pants riding low on his hips. “Better?” He turned in a circle so she could see.

“Don’t mock me.”

He held up both hands. “I’m not.” He slid onto the bed and she turned toward the window. “Hey, are you mad at me?” Even the softness of his voice grated on her.

“No.” And yes. And no again. She hated this. She hated not feeling like herself or being able to control her body. And now, her eyes welled with tears. Fuck. “I don’t like being pregnant.” Her voice came in a whiny whimper she also hated.

He laid a hand on her shoulder. “What can I do to help you?”

She turned and looked up at him, didn’t turn away when he brushed a thumb across her cheek to catch a tear. “Nothing. I’m big and fat and I pee when I sneeze. I cried today when Jim brought me the mail. Not because there was anything in the mail but a circular, but because he thought to bring it to me. And my pants don’t fit.” Dear God. Where had all this come from and why couldn’t she make it stop. Words poured out of her. “I don’t want to pee when I sneeze, Grier. I don’t want to be shaped like a traffic cone, and I’m tired of crying all the time, and I don’t want to lose you because I’m being mean.”

She sniffed and sobbed into his shoulder. His arms came around her and he held her until the tears dried up and she could finally get a hold of herself.

“Better?” When she nodded, he smiled. “A couple of things… you’re not shaped like a traffic cone. There is nothing you could do to lose me, and… well, I don’t really know what to say about the sneezing.”

She chuckled. “Can I tell you one more thing?”

He kissed her forehead. “You can tell me anything.”

This wasn’t fair. She wanted to be normal again, to enjoy her husband, to fit into her own clothes. “I need a few minutes every day without you in it. I’m dying here. Everywhere I go, you’re always there. I mean, you haven’t been out riding since that first night when I gave your bike back. And I love being with you.” She snuggled closer, hoping he could feel how important he was to her. “But I need to breathe.”

He kissed the top of her head and held her tighter. “There are men out there ready to hurt you. I can’t take that chance. I won’t.”

His heartbeat under her ear lulled her raging hormones into a peaceful bliss. “I know, but I can’t be watched all the time. I promise. I’ll be careful, I’ll be diligent and I’ll take someone with me if I go away from the shop, but you sitting in my office all day, reading me Facebook funnies and showing me Instagram pics...” She sighed. “We’re spending too much time together.”

He snored softly in her ear.

“Jerk.”

* * *

Grier watched the compound, Sage on his right, and Jim, a hundred yards away, on his left. They’d stowed their bikes in the trees and walked in. So far, they’d seen no movement, no sign anyone had ever been inside the compound.

Sage smiled down at his phone, typed in a few words then shoved it into his pocket. He looked over at Grier. “Haven’t seen you out in a while. You get tired of carrying Fiona’s shopping bags?”

Grier would have carried her bags until his arms fell off, but he damned sure wasn’t going to admit it to Sage. Not even to Kye. “Nah. She got tired of me.”

“Honeymoon’s over, huh?” Sage chuckled.

After yet another fight at breakfast, well, Fiona had fought, he’d bit his tongue and remained silent, he’d decided to leave her with Hamilton for the day. She was carrying his baby. The least he could do was let her get her anger out. Even if she did it at a decibel that threatened his normal hearing functions.

“Yeah. I guess.”

Sage picked up the binoculars and stared at one of the cottages. “What do you think they have in there?”

Hmm. Grier hadn’t considered where they might have stored the shipments they’d stolen from the Demons. But certainly, seven shipments would fit inside the ten or so cottages. And now, he wanted to know. He slid through the brush where they’d made their surveillance spot. There were plenty of trees and shrubs to hide behind as he pushed closer until he could reach out and touch the cottage.

The windows were low enough he would only need to stand straight to look inside, but a rustling behind him forced him face down next to the cabin. Sage tapped his shoulder. “You startle easy.”