Chapter 36
“Babe, I’m worried about you,” Savage said as he took my bare foot into his hand and began massaging it.
My head tilted back in ecstasy. “My arch. Please massage my arch.”
He obliged. “Did you hear me?”
“It’s hard to pay attention to anything right now. That feels so good.”
“You gotta slow down,” he said.
“Slow down? Slow down how?” I asked with a gasp. “Oh, yes. Right there.”
“You’re working too much.”
“I like my jobs.”
“You have jobs, plural. And one of them makes you get up super early. You need your rest.”
“I’m resting,” I insisted.
“No, you’re not. It’s the first trimester, babe. Between the morning sickness and the exhaustion, you’ve got to take it easy.”
“I have to wake up early to make the sourdough loaves—do you know we’re selling out by noon? We’ve had to make five new starters. But I always go back to bed for a few hours before going to Three Kings. And once I’m at Three Kings, I just sit on a stool. It’s not labor intensive.”
“What are you trying to prove? That you can do all the things? Forget the money for a second. Do you like working as much as you are?”
It was a lot, he wasn’t wrong. And even though I had two days off from Three Kings because the tattoo parlor was closed, I was up every morning for the bakery.
“I’ll talk to Roman,” I said softly. “And see if I can go down to four days a week.”
“Four days would be good.” He nodded.
“I think he wants to hire Cozy anyway,” I said with a smile. “Keep her close, you know?”
“Speaking of close.” Savage cleared his throat and patted my ankle, signaling for me to give him my other foot. “There’s a barbecue at the clubhouse this weekend. Everyone’s back in town. You finally ready to meet the rest of the club and all the other Old Ladies?”
“I’ve gotta take off,” Savage whispered, pressing a kiss to my naked shoulder.
I stretched underneath the covers and hastily covered my mouth as I yawned. “What time is it?”
“A little after seven.”
I hadn’t had to get up early to bake bread, so I’d thought we both would’ve been able to sleep in, wake up leisurely, and then go about our day.
“Are you sure you have to leave right now?” I arched my back and let the sheet slip off my body.
“Babe,” he growled. He cupped my breast, immediately stroking my nipple with his thumb.
“I need you.” My eyes cracked open.
“I’m already running late, and?—”
I shimmied the rest of the sheet off me and spread my legs. My hand went between my thighs, and I played with myself for a few moments before showing him my desire on the tips of my fingers.
He groaned as he began to unbuckle his belt. “This’ll have to be quick.”
“Fine by me.”
I gasped as he plunged into me. Not three violent thrusts later I was coming, hard, clenching around him. I squeezed him and lifted my legs, taking him deeper. His lips captured mine and he rolled his hips, coming with a jerk.
Savage buried his head in my neck, breathing hard.
I kissed his ear. “You don’t want to be late.”
He eased out of me and looked down at his half-erect shaft. “You made a mess.”
“I make no apologies,” I purred.
Savage grinned. He hiked up his boxers and then his pants.
“You’re not going to wash it off?”
“Nah, I want the reminder of you on me all day.” He kissed my lips and then my forehead. “I really do need to get out of here. But I left you a breakfast sandwich on the counter. See ya tonight.”
Savage kissed me again and then he was gone.
I was asleep before I even heard the front door close.
The next time I woke, it was to my alarm. I rolled out of bed, quickly making my way to the bathroom. Nausea rolled in my belly. I couldn’t wait for the morning sickness to pass.
After I showered and brushed my teeth, I dressed in a pair of jeans with an elastic waist and one of Savage’s flannels. I layered it with a man’s sweater I’d found at a thrift store.
I was cozy and warm, and as sweet as it was for Savage to leave me a breakfast sandwich, I put it in the fridge for later and headed down to the bakery for a hot meal.
Brielle was taking a batch of buttermilk blueberry donuts out of the oven when I entered the kitchen.
“Morning,” I chirped.
“Hey, gal,” she greeted with a smile.
“Are those donuts ready yet?” Jazz asked, popping into the back.
“Yes, they’re ready.” Brielle stuck her tongue out at Jazz, and she rolled her eyes.
“Can I get one of those?” I asked hopefully.
“Absolutely.” Brielle grabbed a plastic bakery sheet and quickly grabbed a warm donut and handed it to me. “You want to hang back here with me or eat out in the café?”
“Back here is great,” I said.
Jazz picked up the tray of donuts and headed to the front. “Tea this morning? Or hot chocolate?”
“Tea, please.”
“I shall return,” Jazz announced. “Brielle?”
“Coffee refill. Thanks.”
Jazz nodded and headed back up front.
“Busy today?” I asked.
“Busy every day,” Brielle said with a grin. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear the commotion.”
“I slept through it,” I said. “Actually, I fell back asleep after Savage left and heard absolutely nothing. Thanks for making the bread this morning. How did the loaves turn out?”
“Nary a doorstop among them,” Brielle quipped. “They turned out well. Not as gorgeous as yours, but no complaints from the customers. How’s the donut?”
“Perfect,” I said. “But what do I have to do to get some eggs?”
While I was devouring crispy bacon and fried eggs, Jazz finally returned with the tea and coffee. “Sorry about the delay. We got hammered out there. Random rush.”
She set the tea down in front of me. “So, you want to come over Saturday night? We’re celebrating.”
“Celebrating what?” I asked, polishing off the last of my eggs.
“I’m moving in with Homer.” Jazz’s cheeks flushed with happiness.
“What? Already?” I asked in surprise.
She snorted. “You’re one to talk. You and Savage already live together, and you like, just met. Homer and I have known each other for years.”
“No, I didn’t mean it that way,” I said. “I just thought it was going to take him a long time to woo you.” I looked at Brielle, who was smirking. “What? What did I miss?”
Jazz rolled her eyes. “Brielle walked in on us. She’s kicking me out, basically.”
“I’m not kicking you out,” she protested with a laugh. “You’re only moving one floor down. I’ll still see you all the time. Only, I won’t walk in and have to see my brother’s bare ass. This is for my sanity as much as it is about your happiness.”
Jazz grinned. “I’m really happy about it, actually. So Brielle and I are having a packing party, and I thought you’d want to join.”
“She means help packing boxes,” Brielle added.
“And eat some food,” Jazz stated. “But yes to the box help.”
“I’d love to,” I said. “I really would. But I’ve got plans Saturday.”
“Oh?” Jazz asked.
“Club barbecue,” I announced, my gaze bouncing between them. “I’m finally meeting the rest of the club and other Old Ladies.”
“Well, well, well, the plot thickens,” Jazz teased.
“This is serious,” Brielle added.
“More serious than what?” I asked with a laugh. “Us living together? Savage raising these babies as his own? He said he wants to marry me.”
“He does?” Jazz asked softly.
I nodded. “Which is weird to me, because I’m already his Old Lady which means more in his world anyway.”
Brielle frowned. “Did he actually propose?”
“No, but he made his intentions clear.”
“What did you say when he told you what he was thinking?” Jazz queried.
“I was honest and told him I don’t want to get married again.”
Silence reigned in the back kitchen, but I could hear the chattering and hum of conversation in the café.
“But you’re living with him,” Jazz said slowly.
“Yes.”
“And raising the babies together,” Brielle added.
“Correct.”
“And as you said, you’re his Old Lady. So marriage would be more of a commitment how? I don’t understand,” Jazz said.
“Have you ever been trapped in a bad marriage?” I asked.
Jazz shook her head.
“Well, I’ve been in a bad marriage before. And I guess I’m gun shy. Even though I know Savage is nothing like my first husband, I’m still hesitant.”
“Oh.” Jazz’s face cleared. “I understand now.”
“What did Savage say when you explained your reasons for not wanting to get married again?” Brielle asked.
“He said he understood, but that he was going to do everything in his power to convince me to change my mind.”
“And how is he going to—oh.” Brielle laughed. “The burning cheeks say it all.”
“I need to get going,” I announced. “Thanks for breakfast. And congrats on moving in with Homer.”
“I can’t wait to tell him to pick up his socks,” Jazz said dreamily.
“Ick.” Brielle shuddered. “Homer’s socks.”