Chapter 22
Savage slid into bed beside me sometime in the middle of the night.
“Need you, babe,” he whispered.
And then he slipped into me from behind. Half asleep and dreaming of him already, I was more than ready for him. His hand cradled my breast, and this thumb grazed my nipple.
I moaned and turned my head over my shoulder, searching for his mouth. He met my lips, and our tongues dueled for dominance.
He let go of my breast and grazed his fingers over my belly between my thighs. I wrenched my mouth from his and cried out my release.
Savage thrust deeply, plunging into my wet heat before finally coming with an animalistic growl.
He stayed inside me for a moment, kissing my shoulder before slowly pulling out. His release coated the back of my thighs.
I fell back asleep with him wrapped around me.
The next day, I attempted to button my jeans, only to find that they didn’t want to close. Savage came into the bedroom, bare-chested with a cup of coffee. He watched me struggle until I finally flopped onto my back on the bed, sucked in, and got them closed.
“And so it begins,” I grumbled.
“And so it does,” he said, setting his coffee cup down on the nightstand. He took me into his arms, and I let him. “Guess we need to go shopping, huh?”
“Shopping, gross.”
“Hang tight.” He released me.
“What are you doing?”
“Texting Brooklyn and asking if she has any of her old maternity clothes that you can borrow.”
“That would be amazing,” I said with a wide smile. “Then I wouldn’t have to go shopping! But wait, that means you’re telling her I’m pregnant.”
“Your body is gonna do that in a few weeks anyway, babe. Might as well tell her now.”
“But that means other people will know too.” I nibbled my lip.
“The club you mean.”
I nodded.
He shrugged.
“Don’t you want to be the one to tell your club all this? Not let them find out from Brooklyn?”
“I’m asking Brooklyn to be discreet, okay? She won’t say anything. Well, she’ll probably tell Slash.”
“Slash?”
“Her husband.” He paused. “Yeah, you’re right. There’s a good chance the club is gonna find out.”
I groaned.
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine. The sooner they know, the better.”
“I thought you wanted to tell Willa and Duke before anyone else.”
“They know about you already.”
“They do?”
He nodded. “Yep. But they don’t know I made you my Old Lady.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t just spring that on them. It’s a big deal and I want them to meet you first, so they get why I asked you to be my Old Lady as fast as I did.”
A few moments later, his phone buzzed. “Brooklyn’s gonna go through her closet and grab all her old stuff.”
“Yay.”
He kissed the end of my nose. “We have time for a driving lesson.”
“I’d rather go to the DMV so I can get my permit.”
“You sure you’re ready for that? You have to take a written exam, you know.”
“I know, I’ve been studying the manual at work. Please take me?”
“The DMV makes me homicidal,” he groused.
“I’ll make it worth your while . . .”
“Yeah? How?”
“I’ll cook you dinner and then perform sexual favors for you.”
“Let’s go,” he said, ushering me toward the door.
I raised my brows. “You might want to put a shirt on first.”
He grinned. “I got excited and forgot I wasn’t wearing one.”
My gaze dropped to his jeans. “Yeah, I bet you did.”
I walked into work with a radiant grin spread across my face.
Virgil and Roman had already unlocked the shop and were enjoying a cup of coffee by the counter.
“Hey,” Roman greeted, a quizzical smile on his lips.
“Hi,” I chirped.
“I don’t mean to be a dick,” Virgil began, “but like, you are happy as fuck right now.”
I mock-glared at him and pointed to the glass swear jar I’d installed. The Jackson brothers had dirty mouths, and the jar was already halfway full.
With a sigh, he fished out a dollar and put it into the jar.
“Am I not allowed to be happy this early in the morning?” I asked.
They exchanged a look. “No, you are,” Roman said. “But you took the day off yesterday.”
“I did.”
“Because you were crying,” Virgil added. “Homer told us.”
“I was crying, yes. But I’m better now,” I assured him. “Did Homer tell you why I was crying?”
“Yep. I guess double congratulations are in order.” Roman said as he began to smile.
“Yeah, it would seem so.”
“You should’ve seen Homer when he got here and told us.” Virgil laughed. “The man hates emotion. He looked like he was going to puke.”
“Then he’d have been in good company,” I joked. “That’s all I seem to do nowadays. Where is Homer anyway?”
Roman rubbed the back of his neck. Virgil smirked.
“What? Did I scare him off with my hormonal tears?”
“No. His absence has nothing to do with you actually,” Roman said. “He—ah might’ve . . .”
“Might’ve what?”
“Found out that Jazz didn’t cancel her date last night,” Virgil said. “So, he showed up and crashed the party.”
“That’s wild, but it still doesn’t explain why Homer’s not here now.”
“He’s . . . occupied at the moment,” Roman said.
I frowned. “Okay?”
“He’s screwing Jazz’s brains out,” Virgil said baldly. “They’ve been dancing around each other for years and last night it all finally came together.”
My cheeks heated with embarrassment. “Oh. Well. As long as they’re happy.”
“Happy is not a word I’d associate with Homer. But if anyone has a chance of making him a few notches above surly, it’s Jazz,” Virgil explained.
“Do we expect him in today at all?” I asked.
“Doubtful,” Roman said.
“So I should cancel and reschedule his appointments,” I stated.
“Yep,” Virgil said. “Good luck with that.”
“Why do I need luck?”
“Because he’s got himself a fan club . . .” Roman looked at Virgil.
“Yeah, there’s a beautiful woman who aggressively flirts with Homer every time she’s in his chair. She’s not going to be happy that she has to reschedule.”
“Well, I’m not scared of her,” I said, marching around them to get behind the counter. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I better get to work.”
The door to Three Kings opened and a tall, very pregnant blonde strode in carrying a few canvas totes full of clothes. She looked at me.
“Hi. How can I help you today?” I asked pleasantly.
“You’re Evie.”
I looked at her in confusion, but I nodded.
She beamed. “I’m Willa. Savage’s?—”
“Best friend. Right. Hi.”
“Hi.” She laughed. “I brought you Brooklyn’s maternity clothes. She would have brought them to you herself, but Palmer had a pediatrician’s appointment, so I volunteered.”
“Oh, that’s so nice of you.” I smiled. “Thanks. I can take those and put them behind the counter.”
“Don’t think for one moment this visit is altruistic,” she beamed as she handed me the bags. “I wanted to meet you in person and invite you to dinner sometime this week. Ever since Waverly told us about you, I’ve been bugging him to bring you around. Savage has been keeping you all to himself and giving me excuse after excuse.”
“After excuse,” I said with a nod. “Well, we can’t have that. I’d love to come to dinner.”
“Great. Let me give you my number. You can text me when you talk to Savage and figure out your schedule.”
I unlocked my phone and handed it to her. She punched in her number. “I’m texting myself, so I have your number, too.”
Heavy footsteps tromped down the hallway and Roman appeared with a burly, bearded client. “See you in a few weeks, Rudy.”
Rudy clapped Roman’s hand.
“Hey, Willa,” Roman greeted.
“Hi.” She waved. “I just popped in to say hello to Evie and now I’m going.”
The door jangled shut as she left. Rudy quickly squared up with me and then headed out, leaving me alone with Roman.
“Stop looking at me that way,” I said.
“What way?”
“Like you’re curious about why Willa was here.”
“I am curious.” He shrugged. “You don’t have to tell me though.”
“She invited me to dinner at her house,” I said. “Thoughts?”
“Bring a loaf of your homemade sourdough.”
After smoothing over the ruffled feathers of Homer’s customers and booking a few more appointments for Virgil and Roman, it was the end of the workday.
Savage waited for me in the parking lot and when I went out to meet him, my heart lifted. I carted out the canvas totes.
He cocked his head to the side, asking a silent question.
“Willa brought me Brooklyn’s clothes.”
“Did she.” He pressed a button and the hatchback opened, and I set the clothes inside the car.
“She also invited me to dinner.”
He groaned. “Damn it.”
“She knew what you were doing—giving her the runaround and keeping me all to yourself. Give it up, Savage. I have to meet them.”
“Yeah, I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just wanted . . .”
“What? You’ve made me your Old Lady. I’m pregnant. They’re your best friends. The sooner I integrate into your life, the better.” I reached out and touched his chin. “Trust me.”
He stepped closer and cradled the back of my neck as he peered into my gaze. “You didn’t kiss me hello.”
And then his lips crashed into mine.
He assaulted my senses.
I drowned in the passion of his kiss.
But Savage was my life raft.
I placed my hand on his chest and moved even closer, wanting more of what he was offering.
His tongue invaded my mouth, and I whimpered against him.
He growled low in his throat, clasped my waist, and hauled me toward him.
While he continued to kiss me, he maneuvered me until my back was against the side of the car. Savage slid his thigh between my legs and gently pressed the heat of me.
Sparks of lightning ricocheted through my body.
I reached for him. Eager. Needy.
More.
He cradled my cheeks and then pulled back to stare at my mouth.
“Fuck,” he murmured.
I swallowed and nodded.
He cracked a grin.
“Let’s go,” he said, opening the driver’s side door. “You’re driving home.”
“Yeah right,” I quipped. “I’m liable to crash after all that.”