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I turned back to Hunter. “Thank you.”
Juggling the boxes, he twitched his head back, trying to jerk his long hair out of his face. “It was on Link’s grocery list. He wanted the women of Arkendale to have some.” He gave up on the hair, letting it fall over one eye. “Shea had mentioned you wanting one.”
Made sense. Prenatal care would be crucial soon. That was, if the virus no longer infected the air and future babies survived.
Link strode toward him and clasped his shoulder. “Put those boxes in the kitchen.” He passed his dark gaze to me. “Welcome back to the land of the living. I hear we’re heading to Missouri.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Who’s running Arkendale?”
“At last count, seventy-eight men and two-hundred-forty-three women.”
Fucking unreal. Arkendale could very well become the capital of the future world. As it stood, it was the only place on the planet where women outnumbered men.
He swiped a hand over his mouth, failing to muffle his amusement. “It’s a goddamned democracy.”
Really? Because it sounded like he left them high and dry.
My teeth slammed together. “A democracy has people in power. Elected officials.”
“I left my best men and women in charge, sweetheart. If they kill each other, that’s on them.” He laughed at my wide eyes and strode toward the kitchen.
I held my arms at my sides and tried not to be morally affronted by his jackassery. I really tried, but fuck, I wanted to thrust both middle fingers in the air. “Why are you here?”
He stopped in the doorway, his big hand curling around the framework as he faced me. “I like to fuck as much as the next guy, but I love to fight. Doesn’t exactly make me a candidate for Mayor of Utopia-dale, does it? Where you’re headed, Little Ladybird, awaits a battle for the history books, and I just accepted the position as General of your army. You’re welcome.”
Roark watched him from the other side of the room, hands in his pockets, his face unreadable. And Jesse, well, he was silent and glarey as usual.
Maybe for Link, it really was as simple as fighting the good fight and becoming a legendary hero, dead or alive.
I couldn’t give a flying fuck if future generations knew my name. Whether or not I became the champion of my own life depended on the long and happy lives of three men. Period.
“Evie!” Shea shouted from upstairs. “Get your ass up here.”
I jerked away from the steaming electric iron in Shea’s hand. “I don’t remember agreeing to this.”
She gripped a hunk of my hair and used it to pull my head where she wanted it. “Sit still, or I’m going to burn you.”
A ragged exhale pushed past my lips. Out of my comfort zone much? That didn’t begin to describe the unease crawling over my skin. I came upstairs, expecting an ultrasound, but Shea refused to turn on the machine until she’d cleaned me up. Yeah, the shower had made me feel like a new person, but this was something else entirely.
No wonder we were in the hall bathroom and not the master en-suite, because she’d taken over it, transforming the small room into a kingdom of girlishness. Sparkly makeup, tweezers, razors, and lotions covered the counter. Dresses, tops, and lingerie hung from every nail and hook in a tapestry of sequins and lace. And the Duchess of Glitter World stood amid a pile of shoes of every color, wrapping my hair around a curling iron and staring at my chewed-up fingernails like they were a direct insult to her vagina.
I tucked my hands at my back, the movement threatening to loosen the towel knotted around me. “All this effort to make me look like a woman and—”
“You are a woman.” She set down the iron and fluffed out my curls. “Hottest damned woman alive.”
I smiled my thanks, though I disagreed. “Pretty sure I’m staring at that woman.”
She was always gorgeous, but right now…heaven help the men in this house. Her complexion was buffed and powdered into a silky sheen of chocolate. Smoky shadows enlarged her brown eyes, deep red gloss painted her pillowy lips, and her eyelashes went on for days. Evidently, she’d spent a lot of time rifling through the wealth of Charlottesville.
She smiled, flashing perfect white teeth, her hand wielding a makeup brush like a weapon. “Quit flirting with me, and close your eyes.”
I glared at her. “I haven’t felt the IUD string in weeks. If there’s something wrong with it, all of this is just icing on a cake that won’t get eaten.”
She glared right back. “Oh, they’re going to eat you, because you’re going to strut your fine ass out there and gobsmack them into next week. They won’t even care what shows up on that ultrasound.”
I pulled at the blond curls falling around my arm, stretching one out and watching it spring back. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
