Chapter 25
twenty-five
JUDE
Our conversation flows with ease. Eventually, the topic shifts from Greer’s tight-knit family to my own kin. I decided to admit that things are rough right now and give her the main points.
“So the whole issue is that you won’t work for your family’s business or let your brother-in-law buy you out?”
“It’s complicated. Willa’s husband doesn’t understand basic laws of inheritance.
He thinks I shouldn’t own a stake in the family business just because I don’t help with daily operations.
He also believes his name should be on everything since he’s married to an owner.
He says this is all because I don’t work for the company.
The thing is, I helped out at the charter company for a while after moving back home, and Rob didn’t like that either. ”
“What does your father say about all of this?”
“He says the business has belonged to Mom’s side of the family for three generations, and he was caring for it until we came of age. Now we’re grown, and it’s none of his business.”
“So the precedent is that the spouse doesn’t own or inherit?” she points out.
“Exactly.” I’d just give the whole thing to my sister if it weren’t for Rob. Right now, the only way to protect Willa and the boys is to stand my ground, even if it means losing them.
Thinking of my blood family’s rejection makes my lungs constrict, making it impossible to drag in a full breath of air. The thought of never seeing my sister and nephews again stings worse than road rash.
It’ll never happen with Greer. One way or another, I’ll keep her with me, whether she likes it or not.
I want Greer patched to me, a wedding ring on her finger, with vows tying us together.
Greer excuses herself, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
At my side, Hank groans and stretches his body, his eyes tired.
“So, what do you think about a little brother or sister? Don’t worry, Mom and Dad will still love you.
How can we not with that face?” He exhales a grumble of protest, saying to let him rest.
I cradle him in my arms like a baby and rub his head. “You all tuckered out? Let’s put you night night.”
I carry him into the bedroom to lie him on the mattress.
He can sleep at our feet. Greer’s torso is exposed, an array of plastic packaging on the bed.
She looks up, surprised when I walk in. She’s changing out the tubing and needle for her insulin pump.
“Did you come in here so I wouldn’t see? ” I accuse.
“No, it’s habit.”
“Want help?” Everything looks prepared. She just has to insert the fusion site.
The tenseness in her body eases, and she asks, “Can you help me put it on? I can’t reach that far left by myself.”
Gripping her hip for measurements, I gauge where it won’t interfere when I’m fucking her from behind.
All too familiar with my finger placement in that particular part of her anatomy, Allie playfully grumbles, “Seriously?”
“I have plans tonight,” I answer silkily before taking the circular disc from her.
I distract with a kiss to the neck while pressing down on the autoinjector.
When I move away, a small sticker is flush against the fleshy part of her hip, ready to give insulin without constant injections.
After grabbing her pump off the bed, I connect it to the new site, so she’s ready to go again.
My grandparents were our primary caretakers after Mom died. They hated the insulin pump and everything it represented for Willa. I’m grateful for it all because it means Greer is in front of me, thriving, healthy, happy.
I turn her around and lean to place a kiss on her belly, where a small puncture mark from the old site is still fresh.
I rub my thumb on the area next to it, dreaming of it swollen with our baby.
Is someone in there taking root already?
A tiny cluster of cells that will one day become half of my heart.
Nothing turns me on more than thinking of breeding Greer, but I want her to see that I want more than sex, so I ignore the protests of my hardening dick and ask, “You got a T.V.?”
“I need to buy a stand. I’m not allowed to hang it on the brick.”
“Where is it?”
“In the spare bedroom.”
She follows me as I retrieve the television and set it on top of the dresser. “Movies in bed. I have streaming apps.”
I plug in the television before pulling off my boots and shirt. When I empty my pockets and slide the knife from my leg holster, Greer’s body stills. I try to ignore it, hoping she doesn’t ask about it. I toss her the Ozzy Osbourne tee I just peeled off and say, “Wear this.”
“Are you really staying the whole night?”
“Yep.”
“Fine. But Hank is sleeping on the bed.”
Once she’s crawling across the mattress to rest her head on my chest, I brush the hair from her face and turn on The Big Bang Theory.
We’re halfway through the episode when I say, “About that drink you had at the casino…”
She lifts her head from my pec. “What about it?”
“Babe, maybe it’s best you’re a little careful until we can be sure…”
“Sure about what?” she asks dreamily.
“I’ve come inside of you twice with no protection.”
Sitting up, any trace of peacefulness is long gone. “But what about your accident?”
“What about it?”
“The motorcycle crash. It left you not able to...”
“I’m lost.”
“Didn’t the glass from the accident sever or scar something so you can’t have kids?”
“You think I’m sterile from the crash? Baby, all my parts work.”
“You said I didn’t have to worry,” she accuses.
“I meant I’d finish outside of you, and we didn’t have to think about STI’s because you’re the only woman I have any interest in fucking.”
“So you came inside me twice, knowing you could have gotten me pregnant? And this is after you ‘assured me’ that I didn’t have to worry.”
“I meant to pull out last time, I swear,” I admit with a grimace.
She blinks at me, mouth wide, speechless, then jumps away and reaches for her phone. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she taps and scrolls, studying something on the screen before tossing it across the bed like it’s a hot potato.
“You finished inside of me,” she babbles in stunned disbelief.
“And you let me. I had no idea you thought I was sterile. I’d have corrected that real quick. If I’m giving you our baby, I want you very much aware I’m doing it.”
“You are insane. We’re just getting to know one another, and you’re talking about creating a life together.”
“Don’t put the cart before the horse. It can take time to make a baby.”
“Are you kidding? One quickie and poof, I could be pregnant.” She’s sitting on the bed cross-legged now, biting her lip.
“Greer, in less than two minutes, you’ve told me you thought my man bits didn’t work, and now you’re going for my stamina. I’m taking it as a challenge to show you otherwise.”
She throws her hands up in the air. “Can you please be serious for a moment? I was fertile during our first time together.”
“Was it a little late in the cycle, or perfect timing?” I ask with a calmness I don’t feel.
“Peak day, if you must know. If we’re lucky, I didn’t conceive.”
“The way I see it, with any luck, you’re growing our baby now.”
She covers her face with her hands and groans, “I’ll be a twenty-two-year-old single mother.”
“Single? You think you’d be a single mother?” I stutter out.
Until now, I’ve been cool headed, but I’m done. I move to the foot of the bed, opposite where Hank is curled up, and yank her down so she’s flat on her back.
I arrange our bodies so she’s underneath me, my arms holding my body weight.
In the calmest voice I can muster, I inform her, “Nothing about you will ever be single again. If we have a baby, you’re going to be sharing those three am wake-ups with me.
I’m gonna be the diaper guy, as exhausted and covered in spit up as you are.
Our kid will have two parents. Two. Full-time in one home. ”
Her eyes drill into me, accusing, “As quick as you are to commit and create a child with me, you could be done as fast.”
I smooth down her hair with one palm, and trail my index finger across her cheek. “You have no idea how wrong you are.”
“We’re supposed to get to know one another and build trust before we bring a child into this,” she whispers.
“Babe, you snuck out in the middle of the night and let me drive you wherever I wanted, then gave me your body. You trust me in your gut.”
Her face is gentled now, her voice more worried than angry. “We’re talking about a baby. There’s a lot that goes with that…I have a new job, and diabetes while pregnant is no joke.”
I flip to my side and drag her body against mine, tucking her into me. “You think I don’t have all that figured out? It’s my job to handle all that, especially if you’re pregnant.”
“You’re still prospecting, and you’ve already admitted how much time that takes up. From what you’ve told me, you’re not going to have a lot of time to parent.”
“I won’t be a prospect for much longer, one way or another.”
“Is it a sure thing, or…”
I shake my head in the negative. “I can’t be certain until the last second, but there’s some positive signs.”
“This is all so overwhelming. A few weeks ago, I was graduating from college and moving home to Louisiana.”
“Is it so bad I want you? That I’m emotionally available, that I say what I mean and mean what I say? It’s a lot to take in, but we’re cutting through the bullshit and getting to the good parts.”
“Don’t you realize I know how lucky I am in a lot of ways? But you’re throwing a lot at me, including but not limited to the possibility of a baby.”
“Certainty of a baby,” I correct. “I’m definitely knocking you up. The question is when and how I have to go about it.”
“You aren’t helping matters.”
“I’m being painfully honest with you, which I’ve been from day one.”
“I need a chance to catch up to you. Is that too much to ask for a little breathing room?”
“So you can talk yourself out of it all, and we’re right back to square one?” I lean in close to her and annunciate, “Fuck that shit.”
She opens her mouth to argue, seems to rethink, then says, “Any woman would freak out about this.”
“What for? I’m here to catch you, no matter what.”
Her eyes start to well up with unshed tears. The bastard inside of me hopes it’s a week old baby that’s making her weepy. “I’m so drained I can’t keep having this fight. I haven’t heard back from Allie, and now all of this…”
“Fine, let's go to bed.” I stand and tug off my pants. When my boxers come off, she takes a long, lingering look at my erection. She’s still staring when I command, “You want us bonding and shit? Fine, we’re sleeping skin to skin. Strip.”
With a huff, she does as I ask, then yanks back the sheet and climbs in.
The cotton is cool against my skin when I join her, cupping her breasts in my hands, my legs around her body.
I kiss the side of her neck. “You’re everything to me.
” Sliding my hand down to where I pray our child is growing, I add, “and if someone is in here, they are too.”
Greer’s understandably restless in bed, but keeps her center pressed against my cock. I want to bury myself in there and sleep, if only for the closeness. “Need the edge taken off?” I ask, bringing my hand down her belly and between her legs.
She lifts one so that it’s over my thigh and starts to pant.
“You know how I fuck you, Greer,” I toss out with such ease. Like we’re not talking about raw sex. I roll her nipple between my fingers, earning a moan of pleasure from her. She closes her eyes before asking,
“Would you pull out?”
I scoff, “Couldn’t even if I tried, but I won’t be trying. Coming inside of you, and imagining our baby growing is my own personal heroin.”
Then, because I’m a dick, I show her exactly how good things can be between us.