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“You’ve been through some very traumatic things, Bellamy. Even the good things, like the shift in our dynamic, are bound to be playing with your emotions and hormones. Talking to someone will help. And Dr. Bearson has the added benefit of being able to keep her mouth shut.”
Dr. Bearson is a licensed psychiatrist and talk therapist, but she also specializes in hormone therapy for women. In college, Bellamy had some mental health issues that led her to discover a hormone imbalance. It took some doing to get Bellamy to agree to see the doctor, but it was life changing when she did. After some intensive work, they transitioned her away from weekly sessions to a check-in every few months. Now, when she needs an appointment, we fly the good doctor to Las Vegas. She doesn’t seem to have a problem with our line of work, and we make it worth her while to treat Bellamy.
“Come on, love. It’s important.”
Bellamy tilts her head to the side and a glimmer of a smile tugs at her mouth. “You’re right. I’ll call first thing in the morning. You’ve always taken such good care of me.”
“Good girl. Are you ready? We have another stop to make before we go to the club.”
Her smile widens, and I can tell she wants to ask about the stop. But I won’t give anything away, and she knows better than to ask. If I wanted her to know, I would have told her.
When I’ve paid the bill, we hold hands as we walk out into the parking lot. At the car, I push her against the side of it for a kiss. She clings to my lapels as I explore her mouth with slow movements. She tastes so good. Considering that there was a time when I was convinced I might never kiss her again, I’m not taking little moments like these for granted.
“You’re perfect,” I murmur as I pull away and open her door.
She slides into the car, and I sense her eyes on me as I walk around to the driver’s side.
We drive for a while before she frowns and looks around in confusion. “We’re not heading for the club?”
I glance over at her as I stop at a red light. “I told you we have another stop to make.”
“Yeah, but you made it sound like it was on the way.”
“Not exactly. But it will be worth it, I promise.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “What are you up to, Owen Thorne?”
“Trust me.”
She’s quiet until we reach a street she recognizes. This time, she smacks me on the shoulder. “Are we going to your house?”
“You did not just hit me, young lady.” I try to give her a mock scowl, but the joyous expression on her face as we pull up to my house makes it too difficult, and I pick up her hand and squeeze.
“There’s a surprise for you in the garage.”
Her seatbelt is off in two seconds, but her hand hovers over the door in hesitation as she looks at me. “Go ahead,” I encourage.
She jumps out of the car, and I press the button to raise the garage door before I climb out myself.
Her squeal of excitement echoes in the air as she runs to me throwing her arms around me when she sees it.
“You got my bike back.”
I laugh and bend to kiss her. “Matteo said consider it a wedding present. I told him to fuck off. So, you owe him a bunch of money,” I tease.
But Bellamy isn’t paying attention, too busy walking around her motorcycle, running her hands over the shiny chrome.
“I can’t believe you did this for me,” she murmurs. Her eyes grow wide. “Does Tobias know?”
I laugh. “And what if he doesn’t?”
“He is so going to hate this.”
“He knows. It was his idea to talk to Matteo.”
Her smile gets even bigger as she continues her examination of the bike she’s loved for so long.
“I wish I’d worn a different outfit.”
