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Her throat thickened, and tears threatened. It didn’t take much to make her tear up these days, but that was getting better too. “Okay,” she whispered.
“Now…” Lock kissed her neck, her jaw, her lips. “What do you say we make sure this bed was constructed properly? You know, we can’t have our guest getting hurt.” He walked her back until her calves hit the mattress.
Brenna burst out laughing. “No!” She playfully swatted him away even though she’d love to get horizontal for the next few hours. “We can’t do that here. Kelsie has to sleep here tonight.”
“We can wash the sheets.” He slid his hands up the front of her shirt, making her nipples pebble in anticipation. She knew better than anyone what those fingers were capable of, and her body never failed to respond with enthusiasm. Her knees weakened, and her resolve nearly did as well.
“Lock,” she said with a groan as she mentally calculated whether or not she had time to wash the sheets. She tilted her head, allowing him access to her neck, which he took full advantage of, nipping and sucking exactly how she liked.
Maybe she could pull it off.
“LOCK, MORE,” BRENNA finally said, and Lock’s blood surged in hot victory. Thank God. Her scent and flavor invaded his senses, making it nearly impossible to stop.
“Dada!” Caleb’s shriek hit him like a bucket of ice water.
Unless, of course, his son toddled into the room. Then he could stop.
He groaned against her neck as Brenna giggled.
“Hold up, you little monster,” Harper said as she chased after the surprisingly speedy one-year-old. “Whoops. Looks like our timing was not good, buddy.”
It took Herculean effort, but Lock peeled himself away from Brenna’s warm, welcoming body. “It’s all right. Come here, little man.” He crouched and held his arms out for his son. Three days after they rescued Brenna, a scandal had rocked the local judicial system. A city judge had been sleeping with a partner at Oliver’s firm. They hadn’t disclosed the relationship, and the attorney continued to try cases in that judge’s court. Aside from the shocking conflict of interest, both parties had spouses. Many cases involving that judge and attorney were dropped, including the custody suit against Lock.
Karma worked in mysterious ways, especially when someone crossed the MC.
“I’m out, guys. Bren, I’ll see you later when we pick up Kelsie.”
“You’re the best, Harp,” Brenna replied.
“Dada!” The boy threw himself in Lock’s open arms.
“Oof,” he said with an exaggerated struggle as he picked up Caleb. “You’re getting so heavy. Can you stop growing?” He blew a wet raspberry into Caleb’s neck.
As expected, he burst into a fit of baby giggles Lock wished he could hear every day for the rest of his life. It was the best damn sound—free and full of pure joy. The sound of happiness before life intrudes. The little guy had been through a shitload of trauma in his tiny life but remained blissfully unaware. Everyone in the club showered love and affection on him, and that’s all he needed to be sublimely happy.
He turned, baby balanced on his hip, to find Brenna staring at him with glassy eyes. As it always did when she seemed upset, his stomach bottomed out. “What’s wrong?”
She smiled through near tears—a gorgeous, colossal smile that radiated sunshine through the room. “Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “Nothing is wrong at all. It’s just… the two of you together does something to me.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “It’s perfect.”
Feeling a little mushy inside, he closed the gap between them and kissed her softly.
“Mwa!” Caleb shouted, then giggled again. He leaned forward and smacked his open mouth against Brenna’s cheek. Giving kisses to Brenna had become his new favorite skill.
Lock couldn’t blame him. It was one of his favorite activities as well.
“Oh, thank you for the kisses, sweet boy,” Brenna said before returning the favor with a loud kiss on Caleb’s cheek.
“Mama,” he said, patting her face in the uncoordinated way he had.
Brenna gasped. Her eyes flared, and she shook her head. “Oh, no, baby.” She glanced at Lock and mouthed. “I’m so sorry.” Then focused on Caleb again. “I’m not your—”
“Bren,” he cut in.
She met his gaze, pupils wide and a little panicked. “I swear I haven’t been teaching him that. I know I’m not his moth—”
“Babe.” He cupped her face. “I know you haven’t. You’re my woman. You moved in a month ago. You take care of him as much as I do. You love him, and he loves you. Of course, he’s going to call you mama. It’s what he should call you. It’s what you are to him.”
Tears escaped the corners of her eyes. “Really?” she whispered, sounding awed. “You mean it?”
