Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Vander
V ander had the sudden realization that he’d probably be going to a lot more baby showers in the not-too-distant future.
Fuck . He sipped his beer.
He watched Ace and Maggie kiss. She beamed up at Vander’s tech guru. Vander was happy for them. He’d put up with tons of weddings and baby showers if his friends and family were safe and happy.
He knew all too well that life could be fucked.
You had to take the good any way you could find it.
He found his in crafting his life just how he liked it—his own business, his own place, and he liked nothing more than the solitude of his loft apartment above the office.
Watching an ice hockey game with a glass of excellent bourbon.
He’d spent years fighting for his country. So far down in the darkness, fighting dangers most people never knew existed. Around him, he heard the clink of glasses, laughter, happy conversation. Most of these people would never know the things he’d seen, and he was damn happy about that fact.
“Vander.”
Ryder Morgan stepped up beside him.
Vander sipped his beer and shook off the dark memories. “Ryder. Please tell me you didn’t do the diaper toss.”
The paramedic grinned. “Came second. Easton won. Your brother has a hell of an arm.”
“Always did. He was pure beauty on the baseball field in high school.”
Ryder scanned the room and sipped his own beer. “You heard Camden’s getting out and coming home?”
Camden Morgan was the third Morgan brother, who was currently serving overseas on a Ghost Ops team.
“I did.”
Ryder turned. “He mentioned you called him. Made him a job offer.”
Cam had excellent skills and was cool under fire. Vander looked at Ryder over his beer bottle. “Yeah.”
Ryder nodded. “Good. He should’ve gotten out a year ago. He’ll need something once he’s back.”
Yeah, Vander knew that feeling, too. Getting back, after spending so much time switched “on” and fighting for your life, was hard. He’d spent years giving orders, protecting his team, taking down the bad guys. It had been tough to transition back to civilian life.
And Vander was well aware that he’d never quite fully adjusted.
Cam Morgan probably wouldn’t, either. He’d made a solid name for himself in Ghost Ops.
“I’ll look out for him, Ryder.”
The other man released a breath. “Thanks, Vander.” Then he smiled and slapped a hand to Vander’s back. “So, when will we be having a baby shower for you?”
Vander shot his friend a look.
Ryder chuckled. “Man, did you expect your brothers and your best friends to go down so easily?” The paramedic shook his head. “Seems when the right one comes along, bam, you’re down for the count.”
Vander had never been down for the count. In fact, he did everything he could to avoid it.
His gaze drifted over the room. Easton had an arm around a laughing Harlow. Rhys was nuzzling Haven’s ear, and saying something that made her blush. And dammit, Saxon was kissing Gia like there was no one else in the room.
When Vander wanted a woman, he found one. He was well-aware he intimidated many, or flat-out scared them, with his intensity. Then there were the few who liked the danger and approached him for it. Those ones he avoided.
But mostly, he disliked anyone in his space, so his hookups weren’t frequent.
He liked his space and solitude.
“I’m going to get some food,” Ryder said. “Thanks again, Vander. About Cam.”
One of Maggie’s friends walked past, shooting Vander an inviting smile.
Vander kept his expression blank. Shit, he could no longer point the overeager ones in his brothers’ directions anymore. But he noticed Ryder head in the woman’s direction, thankfully taking her off his hands.
A tell-tale tingle ran across the back of his neck, and he looked up to see Hunt coming his way.
The detective looked tired, his shirt rumpled and tie askew.
“Long day keeping the streets of San Francisco safe?” Vander asked.
Hunt grunted. “I know you help out with that. Usually by skirting the law.”
“Who, me?” Vander said, deadpan.
Hunt snorted again and sipped his drink.
“Coffee?” Vander raised a brow.
“Got to head back to the station after. Vander, you know Trucker Patterson, right?”
Vander stiffened. Not Trucker, again. “Yeah. Asshole of epic proportions.”
“But you have dealings with him and the Iron Wanderers.”
Vander stayed silent, waiting to see where Hunt was heading with this line of conversation.
The detective turned to him. “We both know you keep your fingers on the pulse of all the players in the city.”
“It pays to know what everyone’s up to.” It was how Vander kept control of his little slice of the world. He had a strong network of informants, and Ace could access just about anything, and that let Vander do his bit to protect his city.
“You’re a powerbroker in San Francisco. You can connect people, broker deals, and scare the shit out of people when required,” Hunt said.
“Where are you going with this?”
Some party guests jostled them. A woman laughed and Vander saw they were…sucking on candy that was shaped like pacifiers.
“Let’s talk on Ace’s roof deck,” Hunt suggested.
They hit the stairs. When Vander stepped onto the deck, a warm breeze tugged at his hair. Ace had a killer view of the city sprawl, and the water in the distance.
“The Wanderers are running drugs,” Hunt said.
A muscle ticked in Vander’s jaw. “I know, but Trucker keeps it to his club and close contacts. He knows if he sells that shit on the streets, or to kids, he’ll have problems.”
Hunt shook his head. “It’s my job to make sure he doesn’t sell that shit at all.”
“And we both know that life isn’t always black and white, Hunt. Your laws hinder you as much as they help.”
“You keep playing God, Vander, you’ll be tempted to step over the line.”
“I have good balance,” Vander said.
Hunt blew out a breath. “Trucker’s also running weapons. Building up a little arsenal.”
Vander stiffened. “Really?”
“He’s keeping it very quiet. We arrested a low-level member who let it slip.”
Fuck . Then Vander took another sip of beer. “He wants a war.”
“He’s got problems with the Burning Devils MC. But I’m also getting whispers that he’s got out-of-town interest. Looking to muscle in.”
Vander’s mouth flattened. They didn’t need out-of-towners trying to strong-arm their way in.
“Word is, this new player wants to expand the drug trade.”
Hell, no . “I’ll handle it.”
“Let the law try, first.”
“You need proof that will hold up in court. I don’t. Your way will take too long.”
“Not if I have someone undercover in the club.”
Vander cocked his head. “That’s a dangerous game. If Trucker sniffs them out, he’ll send them back in pieces.”
“You owe me quite a few favors.”
Fuck . Vander knew where this was going. “Hunt—”
“Lots. I’ve cleaned up after you and your guys numerous times.”
“And I’ve helped you in return.”
“I know, but you still cause me headaches.”
Vander blew out a breath.
“Trucker trusts you,” Hunt said.
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Okay, he’s scared of you. I need you to vouch for my undercover officer and help them get into the Wanderers.”
Shit . “They get found out, they’re dead.”
“They won’t.” Hunt paused. “Remember, you owe me.”
Vander scraped a hand through his hair. “Fine. Your guy better be good.”
“She is.”
Vander stiffened. A woman? “No.”
“Yes. Come to the station tomorrow, and we’ll talk.” Hunt headed for the stairs. “Bye, Vander.”
Vander felt like throwing his beer bottle. He took another sip, instead. Some female cop wanted to prance into the most dangerous motorcycle club in the city, it wasn’t his problem.
The beer tasted like oil.
Fuck . He headed back inside.
* * *
Maggie said goodbye to the last of their guests, standing at the front door of Ace’s house.
No, their house.
She smiled and kicked off her shoes. She was still getting used to the fact that this was her home now, too.
But she’d never been happier. She lifted her hand and looked at her gorgeous ring. Really, really happy.
She headed up the stairs. The living room was mostly clean, thanks to her mom, Ace’s mom, and Gia and the others who’d cleaned up most of the detritus from the party before they’d left. The dishwasher was humming quietly in the kitchen.
Maggie pressed a hand to her belly. She wasn’t showing much, and she was desperate to have a big baby belly.
There was no sign of Ace.
“You’d better not be sleeping, Oliveira.” She raised her voice. “There’s still some cleanup to do.”
He appeared in the hall, smiling, and she took a moment to appreciate her man.
Her fiancé.
The father of her baby.
The love of her life.
He’d ditched his shoes, too, and his shirt was untucked, his sleeves rolled up.
Heat ran through her, making her flush. She wanted to bite him. An unexpected side effect of the pregnancy hormones—she was horny all the time.
They were having so much sex it was a wonder they could both walk.
Ace’s lips quirked and he studied her face. “ Gatinha , I fucked you twice before I left for work this morning.”
She rubbed her thighs together and squirmed. “So? That was hours ago.”
He yanked her close and kissed her brains out. She clung to him, sucking on his tongue before sinking her teeth into his bottom lip.
As her hand moved to his belt, he grabbed her wrist.
“You’re going have to wait a little bit, then I’ll take care of you. I have a gift for you.”
“A gift? We have a mountain of baby gifts in the living room waiting to be opened. Our kid won’t need anything until he or she goes to college.”
Ace grinned and twined his fingers with hers. “Come on.” He towed her down the hall.
“Ace, I—”
He pulled her into one of the guest rooms and her heart stuttered.
“Oh…”
He’d set up the nursery.
“When did you do this?”
“This morning when you were at work. Obviously, I had help.”
Maggie turned slowly. It was gorgeous. Just what they’d talked about. Cream walls, with a lovely, wooden crib that she’d admired online. The wall behind the crib had a pattern on it. Her heart squeezed. Tiny helicopters and computers.
A fluffy rug covered the floor, and a comfy, brown rocking chair sat in the corner. There were accents in a pale moss-green—a pillow on the chair, a blanket draped over the crib.
“The gang all helped me with decorating and putting things together. I’m not sure if you know this, but Gia is bossy.”
“She says it’s exceptional leadership skills.” Maggie turned to the framed photos on the other wall. They were some of her photos—the city at sunrise, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Painted Ladies.
She met his gaze. “Ace, I love it. I can’t believe you did this for me.”
“For us. The three of us. And you can still add your touches, if you want. I knew it’s been stressing you out, trying to find time to do everything.”
“It’s perfect .” She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his chest. “You’re perfect.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Even when we fight?”
They did argue sometimes. They both kind of got off on it. They’d argue, and then it would end with crazy monkey sex on the floor, the couch, the kitchen island, and one memorable time, on the desk in his office.
“Even then.” She looked up. “When I look ahead, I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
His eyes churned with emotion. “I feel the same way, Maggie. You make me laugh, you turn me on, you listen to me, you argue with me and you love me.”
“Get used to it, Oliveira. I’m not planning to stop.”
“Good. With you, I feel like I’m a better man.” He touched his mouth to hers. The kiss turned hot and heavy, and his hands slid down her body. “Will you have my babies, gatinha ?”
She laughed. “You didn’t bother asking me the first time.”
He cupped her ass and squeezed. “Still feeling horny?”
“All the time. Damn hormones.”
“What do you need?” He had a sexy twinkle in his eye. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
And he would. He’d protect her, and the children they made. He’d love her, care for her, and give her everything.
She wrapped her hand around his belt. “I just need you, Ace.”
He swept her up into his arms and strode out, heading for their bedroom. “You’ve got me, Maggie. Sempre .”
* * *
I hope you enjoyed Maggie and Ace’s story!