Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Griffen didn’t look convinced. Actually, Griffen looked like he was on the verge of packing me up and running for the hills. I wasn’t going to let that happen.
I won’t say I wasn’t scared. It didn’t feel great to know someone was out there looking for another hired gun to aim our way. But West was right, we had a little breathing room. I wasn’t going to waste it.
“Let’s go home,” I said when we got back into the car Griffen had borrowed from Royal. “We can ditch work for the day and you can take my mind off my arm.”
“How bad is it?” he asked, eyes dark with concern.
“It just hurts. I didn’t pull any stitches or anything.”
“You’re sure? We can go by the hospital if—”
“I’m fine. I swear. But if you wanted to take me home and distract me—”
Griffen finally caught my drift. “Distract you, huh? What did you have in mind? A movie? I could find you a book.”
I let my good arm slide over the console between us. My hand landed in his lap. Stroked. “A book? Not exactly.”
Griffen hardened under my touch. His green eyes glinted, the worry chased away by my busy fingers. “We have some spreadsheets we could go over—”
“Hmm, not that either. No work today, remember? I was thinking more like naked distraction.”
“Naked distraction,” Griffen repeated musingly as if his cock wasn’t rock hard and straining against his jeans. “What about your arm? You shouldn’t move it.”
“I thought you could be creative.” I squeezed his length through his jeans, loving the sharp intake of his breath.
He shot me a wolfish grin. “Oh, I can do creative, Buttercup.”
And he could. Over my protests that I could walk on my own, Griffen carried me up to our rooms, where he carefully stripped me of my clothes and lay me down in my big brass bed.
Our big brass bed. I’d told myself I hadn’t thought of Griffen when I’d bought the bed, but I’d been lying. Of course, I’d thought of him.
It was always him.
Always Griffen.
And it always would be.
Epilogue
Griffen
Hope looked down at the picture in her hand, a secret smile on her face. To be honest, I thought it looked like a black-and-white blob surrounded by a bunch of static, but the OB swore eventually it would be our baby.
I didn’t so much care about the picture, but I kept hearing that fast thud-thud-thud of the baby’s heartbeat coming through the speakers. Despite the ER doctor’s assurances, we’d both been worried. The car accident. The tree branch sticking out of Hope’s arm. All that blood.
The relief of knowing everything was okay was a weight off us both.
We were having a baby.
I didn’t really have my head around it yet. I wasn’t sure I would until we met face to face. Only seven more months.
Hope turned the picture upside down and squinted at it. “I can’t tell which side is up,” she admitted. “The timestamp is at the top, I think.” She turned it again. “But this just looks weird.”
“The doctor said she’s about the size of a blueberry. There’s not much to see yet.”
Hope slid the picture into her purse. “I know. I’m just impatient, I guess.”
I reached across the console to take her hand. “I know what you mean. It’s going to be a long seven months. And the best early Christmas present ever.”
Hope’s radiant smile pushed the day right over the top. We’d gotten good news from the doctor and I had my beaming wife sitting beside me.
The day we’d married I’d thought my life had fallen apart. Things had changed—no denying that—but once we’d gotten through the rough parts, this new life was better than anything I’d ever dreamed.
Life wasn’t perfect, but we were getting there.
“I don’t want to tell everybody yet,” Hope said. “Not until we clear the first trimester. I know it’s weird with us all sharing the same house, but—”
I didn’t like the shadow on Hope’s face. I wanted the smile back.
“I agree. Who already knows? Officially.” We couldn’t account for town gossip. I was pretty sure the doctor who’d seen us in the ER hadn’t said a word, but I didn’t know about the nurse or any technicians who might have seen the test and Hope’s name on it. Added to that, we’d just seen the OB together. Anyone who’d spotted us would know Hope wasn’t there for her annual check-up.
But rumor wasn’t fact, and it made sense to keep it quiet as long as we could. West had my shooter in jail, and he wasn’t getting out anytime soon, but we still didn’t know who’d hired him or why.
“Officially?” Hope looked out the window of our new armored SUV as she thought. “Savannah, and I’m pretty sure Royal knows.”
“Royal knows,” I confirmed. “I didn’t tell him, he guessed. Same with Hawk. He figured it out when I mentioned that you’d been fainting.”