“Takes as long as it takes,” he remarks, looking up to meet his VP’s eyes. He isn’t smiling anymore. “Soon as I eat, I’m headin’ over to see Cat.”
My blood goes cold as Grey looks between the two men with keen interest. They’re not saying anything important, or talking about anything he’s unaware of, but he’s a smart man. He’s picking up every nuance between Crown and Beast, every unsaid thing, all of those little tells like tightened jaws or raised brows or shrugs.
Grey realizes that I’m staring at him and smiles back at me, acknowledging that I know what he’s doing, but completely unapologetic about it.
“You’ve been seeing Cat regularly,” I suggest as Crown curls his fingers around the back of my chair. “How does he seem?”
“Terrifyingly blank,” Crown confirms with a sharp exhale. His breath stirs my hair, and I shiver. My body is well-loved and well-fucked, but still, my lower stomach muscles tighten at the idea of feeling Crown enter me, of him giving himself up to me completely, losing himself in me the way Beast and I did with each other last night. “Be careful.”
“He can’t kill me,” Beast says, taking half of the sandwich in one bite. I look back at him and our eyes lock. Can’t kill me. Not won’t. Can’t.
“Of course not,” Crown drawls out, releasing my chair and standing up straight. “Finish eating, Gidget. Get dressed.”
“It’s Gidge. I hate having to repeat myself,” I tell him, but he ignores me, leaving the room as Reba looks around like she has no idea how I survived eighteen years of this shit. “Reeks of testosterone and masculine bullshit, huh?” I query with a crinkle of my nose. “You learn to amp up your estrogen to combat it.” I pretend to turn an imaginary dial as Beast chuckles and rises to his feet, coming over and pressing a kiss to the crown of my head.
It should be a sweet gesture. Maybe it even looks like one. It feels like a carnal promise, something with heat.
I almost groan, closing my eyes against the pleasure.
“I’ll see ya when I get back. Stay with Crown and try not to get into trouble.” Beast stands up and nods at Reba. “Miss Keller,” he drawls, and she gives him a dirty look.
“Don’t think I don’t see what you did to her neck,” she says, all prim and proper, hands folded neatly on the surface of the table.
“Shoulda seen what I did to her—” Beast starts, but Reba’s preemptive gasp cuts him off, and he just laughs again. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow?!” I call out, but Beast is already on his way out. There’s a hurried motion to his steps, as if he can’t bear to separate himself from me. I look after him with a curse, shoving the last of the second sandwich into my mouth.
With this sort of grueling schedule, I really do need four men all to myself, just so I don’t ever have to be alone. Not that I can’t take care of myself. Case in point: I defended myself at church camp. Sure, I got that girl—poor Carol Briggs—killed. But I survived. I survived a motorcycle accident. I survived the mafia.
Still …
At least right now, I need a guard at all times.
I am the Grey Wolfe Mafia’s number one target at the moment.
I can’t let myself forget that.
“I still can’t believe that you’re a married woman,” Reba says with a long, wistful sigh, as if she’s dreaming of a life she’ll never have. I know that’s what she wanted, to get married and have kids, to teach kindergarten. Now, she’s going to be a fucking nun, and all because I burn too hot and too fast and fall in love with older men I shouldn’t want and wasn’t supposed to have.
“I’m pregnant,” I say suddenly, before I can lose my nerve.
Both Grey and Reba go completely still.
“You’re …” Reba starts, her green eyes going wide. She slaps a hand over her mouth as I flick my eyes her way, trying to get a read on her emotions. She looks like she’s flip-flopping between several different options: fear, pity, excitement. “A baby.” Her breath releases in a rush.
I glance over at Grey, but if Reba is switching between several different emotions, he’s gone completely blank.
“You’re pregnant?” he clarifies, tilting his head just slightly to one side.
I nod, and Grey shakes his head.
“Fuck. I’m sorry.”
Reba throws an annoyed look in his direction.
“You’re sorry? Babies are blessings.”
“They aren’t blessings to everyone,” Grey retorts right back.
It’s like I have an angel and a devil on either shoulder, offering up their opinions. Despite Reba’s kindness and Grey’s lack thereof, I wouldn’t exactly equate either of them to the side of good or evil. Just different perspectives.
“Yes, well,” Reba huffs, straightening out the skirts of the dress she’s wearing. It looks familiar, and it takes me a second to realize that it’s Queenie’s. I almost smile. Then I almost cry. Then I remember that there’s no way in hell Reba would ever wear Posey’s or my clothes, and she really needed something other than borrowed sweatpants and t-shirts to wear.
