Page 133 of I am Dressed in Sin (Death by Daybreak MC 2)
I’m not.
I better not be.
I bite my lip.
“Shotgun wedding?” Grainger queries as soon as Nellie’s left the room. “That would imply you’re knocked-up. You knocked-up, Gidge?”
I glance back at him, Beast’s leather jacket draped over my shoulders. It creaks pleasantly with the motion.
“That’d be an interesting thought, huh? Considering it most definitely wouldn’t be Beast’s kid.” I stare at Grainger, and he takes a step closer to me. Likely, he wants to fuck again. That’s all we do right now, me and him. We fuck. And we fuck. And we fuck some more. I think that’s the easiest part for him to be honest. He isn’t great with complex feelings.
“Whose would it be?” he asks, but his question is far more serious than I expected. If I really think about it … if something like that were to happen … it would probably be his.
I gag and clamp a hand over my mouth. That does it. Grainger is right back to sneering at me again.
“Are you pregnant?” he asks, and maybe he’s thinking about how we screwed each other in a Catholic church before I ever started taking my birth control pills again.
Yikes.
“I feel nauseous, but maybe that’s only because the thought of having your baby freaks me out.”
“You’d be lucky to spawn my seed,” he snaps, but even if the words are rude, some of his usual acidity is missing. He sounds disturbingly pleased at the idea.
I hate him. I lied. I don’t want him in my harem. I just want him to fuck off and die.
“Gidget.” It’s Cat.
I didn’t hear him come in, and that scares me. I turn to look at him, finding him waiting in the doorway to the kitchen. Grainger has already moved a careful distance away, just in case. Cat may or may not know we’re sleeping together, but I’m not ready to find out just yet.
“We’re tightening security in preparation for the wedding; I want that girl out of this house.” He retreats before I even get a chance to argue, and I hear the front door slamming behind him. I can see Cat out the window. He pauses next to Crown, a crowd of men behind him.
“What the fuck is that about?” I ask, and Grainger gives me an unreadable sort of look.
“Does it matter? He’s the president. Do what he says for once, and don’t pitch a fit.” Cade leans back against the wall, his myriad sun and moon tattoos making him look slightly less like a brutish dickhead than he might otherwise. “Your problem is that you’re too nice.”
“I’m too nice?” I reply with a laugh. Cade is glaring at me, but underneath all of that spite is raging heat. He wants me so goddamn bad he can taste it. I take a moment to ensure that my tight leather pants—the ones Cat doesn’t bitch about anymore—are hugging my thighs and riding low, revealing a small strip of skin above the waistband. Grainger can’t stop himself from looking. “Oh, that’s rich. Do you have the same problem? You too nice, too, Cade?”
“Cade, nice?” Crown asks from the doorway Cat just vacated. His chocolate hair gleams with auburn highlights as he steps into the light, one of those Cheshire cat smiles on his face. He rarely gets those anymore, usually only when he’s teasing Grainger. I think there’s something about me that makes him too sad to accomplish it. Mostly, I think he’s upset that I’m marrying Beast and not him. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard those two words in the same sentence.” The vice president gives me a look, tucking his hands into his jeans pockets. He’s wearing his cut, the badge beneath his name listing his position as VP. “Your father tells me that Reba needs to be out before the wedding,” he says, not like it’s a problem to be solved but a fact to be acknowledged. Crown gently inclines his head. “She can stay at my place if you want.”
“By herself?” I ask, flicking a glance in the direction of the bathroom. Nellie seems to have taken to Reba like a lost daughter and vice versa. They never got along well before, but they’ve found a connection this time around. Still, Cat is right. Reba cannot stay here. Every second that she’s in this house, she’s in danger. If she sees something she shouldn’t see, she’ll be trapped. Or dead. Or worse. “She can’t be there by herself. She needs me, at the very least.”
“You can all stay,” Crown offers, his gaze laser focused on me. It’s hard to concentrate beneath that stare, like standing in the beams of the sun. At first, it’s warm. At first, it feels good. Just don’t forget about the sunburn later. “Normally, we could just move you into your husband’s house …” He trails off here, his pupils dilating slightly. This isn’t an easy subject for him. “But Beast has been living here.”
