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Three monthslater
It’s been a hot,muggy summer with my belly swelling until I can no longer see the floor. All those years of admiring my own perfect body seem to have gone completely to waste, and yet, I can’t find it in me to care. I’m carrying the most precious cargo, and every time my baby girl kicks, telling me she’s about on her way, my heart flutters. I lounge in bed late this Saturday, smiling contentedly as the summer sunshine warms my skin. Fortunately, our air conditioning is decent, so when it gets too sweltering inside, I can just hide in here, appreciating the beauty of our tiny house.
Pots and pans clink and bang in the kitchen, and my smile broadens as I picture Gabriel clumsily making his way around the stove. For the past three weekends, he’s insisted I stay in bed while he cooks me breakfast, and while I’m sorely tempted to watch him whip up some bacon and eggs, the last time I tried sneaking a peek, he scolded me. Breakfast in bed only works if I stayin bed, he’d insisted. So here I remain.
The heavenly scent of bacon greets me a moment later, and I can faintly make out the sizzle of it on the stove. In the past few months, I’ve really come to appreciate what a simple life has to offer. Without the terrifying death threats and assaults on my husband and car, Whitfield has started to feel like the quiet little small town I anticipated when we moved here. And my hours at Honey Bee’s have turned out to be some of my most entertaining.
But with August twenty-second just days away, I’ve already started my maternity leave. I chose to take time off a bit early so I’m fully prepared for the baby to come. And for the most part, we are completely ready. The only thing we haven’t done is picked a name. We’ve talked about it a lot, but nothing feels quite right. After hearing all the town’s unsolicited advice on whatnotto call our baby girl, I’m sorely tempted to let her pick when she’s old enough to speak.
The other exciting thing looming on our horizon is Starla coming back to town for a visit. She’s due to arrive here later today, and she’s staying for the next month or so with the intention of helping me when the baby comes. While I’m sure Gabe and I are as prepared as we’re ever going to be, I’m beyond grateful that she’s going to be here to help. I’ve heard horror stories about how little sleep we’re going to get, and with both of us being completely new to this parenting concept, I trust Starla to be a helping hand. She loves kids and has spent plenty of time around them.
Gabriel steps through the door a minute later with a tray full of food and a short glass of orange juice. A smile spreads across my face at the way he carefully walks it to the bed. It reminds me of how he used to bring me meals in his room at the Blackmoor clubhouse, back when he kept me hidden away.
“You are the best husband,” I state as he sets the tray onto the bed between us.
There’s enough food for us both to share, and he joins me as I pick up a fork and dig into the steaming heap of scrambled eggs.
“I managed to avoid burning the toast this time,” he says as he picks up a buttered slice and bites into it before following it with a forkful of eggs.
“I’m so proud,” I tease, though really, I am both proud and amazed at how much Gabriel has done over these last few months to adapt an ordinary lifestyle, one in which he runs the club but keeps a healthy rein on things.
We chat as we eat, laughing about how the boys were bickering over the club bartender, Shelby. It sounds like quite a riff has grown between Rico and Knuckles over her, as they’re both pursuing her, and she doesn’t seem to be taking either’s bait. I got the opportunity to witness it firsthand last night at the club, and I find it wildly entertaining to see them make complete asses out of themselves. Their attempts to woo her when they’re little better than cavemen pounding their chests to show how strong they are is hilarious. Of course, they’re probably used to the club girls, who don’t require wooing. They’ll lie down for any man who looks their way, so long as he has a Harley.
“You think she’s just enjoying the entertainment?” I ask. “Or does she actually have an interest in someone?”
Gabe snorts. “How the hell would I know? As far as I can tell, the girl’s got a good head on her shoulders and probably knows she shouldn’t touch those boys with a ten-foot pole.”
That makes me laugh, and I lean over our tray to kiss Gabe’s cheek. “Would any of them have said that about you at some point in time?”
He flashes me a dangerous grin. “None of them would dare. Besides, I might have seemed like a barbarian when you first met me, but in my world, I was considered quite civilized.”
I shudder playfully. “The horror.” I take a big bite of bacon to mask the grin bursting from me.
Gabriel’s eyes spark, and a tingle of anticipation comes to life in my core. “Yes, well, webarbariansare known for short tempers and forcing ourselves upon women, so you better watch what you say, or you just might find your virtue in danger.”
I press a palm to my hand and widen my eyes in fake horror. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Don’t push your luck,” he warns.
I finish off my bacon and slide across the bed so I can take the tray of empty dishes to the kitchen.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Gabriel demands; his tone is deliciously fierce.
“To the kitchen,” I offer innocently, looking coyly at him over my shoulder.
“I don’t think I said you could leave.” The glare of suspicion he levels on me makes my heart quicken.
“I didn’t realize I needed to ask your permission,” I respond smartly, knowing he’s looking for an excuse to punish me and more than ready to give him one. Taking the tray in my hands, I stalk toward our bedroom door.
In a flash, Gabriel’s off the bed and standing behind me, his arms wrapping around me, one across my chest as he gropes my breast, the other cupping just below my prominent belly, his fingers hovering dangerously close to my clit. He pulls me roughly to him, not enough to disturb the tray, but enough to make me gasp as I feel his prominent erection pressing between my ass cheeks.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he breathes, his lips hovering beside my ear and making me shiver. “You’remine, and I plan on using you for my pleasureallday today.”
“You mean until Starla gets here,” I remind him, flashing him a saucy gaze.
“Oh, you think I won’t just send her away?” he asks. He moves me bodily, guiding me to our dresser. “Now, put down the tray.”
Slowly, I ease it down on top of the furniture, relishing the way it frustrates him when I resist his orders. He growls in my ear but doesn’t do anything until the tray is safely stowed.
