THREE MONTHS LATER
“The court date is set for next month,” I tell Knuckles as we drive to some unknown destination. “I hate that I’m going to have to go there all pregnant, but the evidence is going to speak for itself.”
“Can’t you just appear via video?” he asks me, turning off the main road.
“I kind of wanted to see their demise in person,” I say, chuckling evilly. Knuckles won with the whole me-not-working-until-maybe-a-year-after-the-baby thing, but only because I had no good job offers. A few places did call, but they wanted me to write gossip columns and other things that don’t interest me. I even got an offer to be a reporter for a news station, but that’s only because they didn’t know I was pregnant. Knuckles put his size-thirteen foot down at my rushing around in dangerous situations to report the news on live TV anyway.
Which I guess is fair enough.
I’ve started doing freelance investigative journalism, which gives me freedom and flexibility. In the meantime, Knuckles has been putting money into my account, all with embarrassing titles that the bank will see and that pop up on each of my bank statements, such as “for best blow job” and “I love you, Kitty.” They’re probably going to think I’m a lady of the night.
“Revenge isn’t good for the soul,” he states, giving me a Let it go look.
I lean toward him. “You’re telling me to let it go? Mr. I’m Going to Make Everyone Pay, blah blah . . . this doesn’t sound like you at all.” I study him, checking for any sign of what he’s been up to. “Did you do something?”
“What could I have done, Kitty? You wanted the court to take care of it, remember? No vigilante justice, you told me. So I’ve behaved. You can stop looking at me like that.”
Did he just say he behaved? Okay, now I’m suspicious. I believe him when he says he didn’t do anything, he doesn’t lie, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t get someone else to do something. With Knuckles, you have to watch the way he words things.
“We’re here,” he says, perfect timing for him.
I glance out at the big two-story house. “What are we doing here? Do I need to be social? Because I’m kind of not in the mood.”
He gets out, opens my door, ignoring my complaining, and walks me to the front of the house. “Welcome to our new home.”
I turn my head to him slowly, sure that I must have misheard something. “What did you just say?”
He slides a key into my palm. “I bought us a house. I know you’re stressed out about money and hate taking money from me, so now I bought a house that you don’t have to worry about paying for. At all. And now you can either rent your house out and use that money to pay your mortgage, since I know how stubborn you are, or you can sell yours and put the money into a savings account for you and the baby. This is our home, for our family, and it will always be that way. It’s in both of our names, and you will never have to stress over money ever again. You just cook that little Chester in your stomach, that’s your full-time job right now.”
My jaw drops as I step back and take in the beautiful home. “You can’t be serious?”
“Go inside and take a look,” he tells me, smiling. “And there’s plenty of space for your pack of dogs too.”
With trembling fingers I open the door and step inside. It’s bigger than my house, and even though it’s older, it has a warm, welcoming feel to it, and while I do love it instantly, I never planned on moving from my home. And I told him that, didn’t I? I don’t know why he’s done this grand gesture. It’s a beautiful one, but unnecessary.
“It’s huge,” I whisper, turning to him. “You know I don’t need all of this, right? All I need is you and our baby. And we have a house already. I don’t need more than we already have.”
“I wanted you to have a bigger house, and don’t worry, I didn’t go broke buying it. If you don’t want to live here, and you want to stay in your house, then we can use it as an investment. I don’t know.”
I feel bad, because he tried to do something nice for me, but he’s right, it could just be an investment. I know already that I don’t want to move from my house, and I wonder if maybe he doesn’t feel at home in my house.
“Why did you buy this place? Is it for a fresh start together? Or new-house, new-growing-family type of thing?” I ask him, trying to really understand why he’s made this decision.
“I guess, yeah, both of those reasons. A fresh start for our growing family,” he admits. “Do you still want to check it out?”
“I still want to have a look,” I tell him. “I mean it’s still our house, right? A second house that we will both own.”
He nods, and I flash a smile at him.
I check out every single room, and admire the sheer beauty of the place. He definitely has taste, let me tell you that much.
“You are something else,” I say, jumping into his arms. “And I love it, Knuckles, you are so thoughtful, and generous, but to be honest, I don’t want to leave my house, because I love it there, too. Do you not like my house, or something?”
“I do love your house,” he assures, taking in the balcony. “I guess I just thought it was yours. I mean, you put all the money into it, and I don’t know—”
“And you’re being a caveman and want to be the one who bought the house?” I gather, suddenly understanding where he’s coming from. I bought my house, our house, and he feels as though, as the man, he should have bought the house that we live in, not me.
“What’s mine is yours, Knuckles, it goes both ways,” I tell him. “I love that you did this, but can we please stay where we are?”
He nods. “Of course, we can stay wherever you want.”
“Okay.” I smile, giving him a kiss. “Thank you. I want you to feel at home with me, in our home, okay? Don’t ever think of it as just mine, and who cares who paid for what. We’re a team now.”
“All right,” he agrees, but I can see in his eyes he still doesn’t feel right about it. “Investment property it is. I have another smaller house that I used to live in, and I’d bring the girls there to stay with me when I had them. As they got older though, we’d always end up at the clubhouse anyway, and Prez wanted me back there, so I ended up renting out my house and just moving back into there. The bathroom joins onto another bedroom, which is the girls’ room. It will always be their room, which will never change.”
“Prez doesn’t care if you’re not always there anymore?” I ask him, curious.
“Nah, there was some shit going on back then that he wanted me to keep an eye on, but that’s all gone now. I’ve done my time. A few more men live there now anyway, so if anything ever went wrong there’s always someone there to handle it,” he explains, taking my hand and leading me outside to look at the garden. “It can work you know . . . being a family man and in the MC. I can balance both, and the Ravens will protect you and our child with everything they have, that I can promise you.”
“I believe you,” I tell him, smiling as the sunshine hits my face.
“I love you,” he replies, pushing my lower lip down with his thumb, and giving me an openmouthed kiss.
“You always do that,” I breathe.
“I know,” he whispers back. “Because I want to taste you properly, not just the outside of your lips.”
I touch his beard, playing with it just how I know he likes it. “Will you carry me to what would have been our new bedroom?”
“There’s no bed in there,” he points out, hands running over the globes of my ass. He squeezes them, and even gives my behind a little slap.
“Yeah, but we don’t need a bed,” I reply, flashing him a seductive look, walking backward to the door that leads back inside. I crook my finger at him. “That carpet looked pretty fluffy, I’m sure it’s just as good as a bed.”
I spin around and jog inside, and he’s soon carrying me up the stairs and into the bedroom that he bought for me, but that we will not be using.
I’ve never been happier.
Wanting to do something nice for Knuckles in return for the house he bought, even if we aren’t going to live there, I go to the clubhouse without him to ask one of the guys a few questions. Shack lets me in, but I don’t know him well enough to ask him what I want to know. I go in search of Ace but come up empty. I do run into Rogue though. He’s sitting on the kitchen counter, drinking a beer, looking like life isn’t treating him too well.
“Hey,” I say softly, lingering at the kitchen door. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“No,” he replies, forcing a smile. “Knuckles is at work.”
“I know, I actually wanted to talk to one of you guys,” I tell him, stepping inside and moving in front of him.
“What’s up?” he asks, and I can’t help but admire him for a second before I reply. He’s a very handsome man, classically so, and I imagine he must have women by the truckloads chasing after him. “If you want to know what he’s doing when he says he’s at work, I’m afraid you don’t want to know.”
“Yeah, last time I asked he said he’s going to rescue kittens from trees,” I grumble, rolling my eyes.
When Rogue starts laughing, I feel like there’s an inside joke in there.
“So I wanted to buy Knuckles a present, and I was wondering if you had any inside information for me,” I tell him, jumping up on the counter to sit next to him, my nude pump heels dangling off the edge. “Is there a new, latest model motorcycle or something he’d like? I want to pull off some dramatic surprise.”
“You trying to top his house surprise that you rejected?” he asks, placing his empty beer bottle down next to him. “He did mention that you’re competitive.”
“I didn’t reject anything, I just don’t want to move. And I think we know that nothing is going to top a house,” I reply drolly, glancing down at my shoes. “However, I just want to do something nice for him. He’s always doing all these things for me, and I guess I want to do something in return.”
“He doesn’t expect anything,” he points out, jumping down and opening the fridge to get another drink. “Can I get you something? Juice? Water?”
“A juice would be nice,” I tell him, smiling and thanking him when he hands me a small orange juice bottle. “I’m so glad this morning sickness is over. I can now eat or drink anything I like, and don’t have to carry a bag around with me in case I randomly throw up.”
“I’m so glad I’m not a woman,” he says, jumping back up and opening his beer with his hand on his T-shirt. “Okay, I know something that Knuckles will love.”
“You do?” I ask, perking up instantly. “Fuck yes, hit me with it.”
“There’s this vintage bike for sale I know he’d absolutely love; it’s a collector’s item. I saw him eyeing it at the last show we went to, but Knuckles hardly ever spends money on himself, if you haven’t noticed. He puts it all away for his kids, or now for you,” he tells me, blue eyes on me. “I can take you there when you’re ready, and I’ll ride it back for you. Shove a big bow on it, and leave it in the parking lot, let all the men freak out wondering who the hell it’s for, and then you can walk out in a G-string bikini.”
“That idea is fucking perfect,” I say, clapping my hands together in excitement. “Minus the G-string bikini bit, although I suppose you’ve already seen enough of me.”
“Ahh, come on, that was funny. You don’t have to be embarrassed. And I give Knuckles shit, and I give you shit, but I respect you as his girl,” he says, winking at me.
I smile and lean forward, kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you. Anything I can do to help with why you were looking so sad when I walked in?”
“Not unless you can get Shovel out of prison in time to see his kid being born, and help my mother get better,” he says, sounding defeated. “This year has just gone to hell, and it needs to be over already. My best friend is locked away, and dementia is taking over my mom—soon she might not even remember me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell him, his sadness becoming my own. “If you ever need anything, someone to listen, or to even come with you to see her, anything, you give me a call and I’m there, all right? I know it’s not much, but it’s all I can offer.”
“It’s plenty,” he says, wrapping his arm around me. “I think I’ll just sit here and get drunk, like I do every time after I visit my mom, and then I’m going to go to bed.”
“It’s five p.m.,” I point out.
“Depression naps have no time schedule,” he says, resting his head on my shoulder. “Let’s talk about something happier. Have you chosen a baby name? Found out the sex? What’s going on with your Raven spawn?”
“I think we’re going to keep the sex a surprise, but I personally think it’s going to be a boy,” I say, absently touching my stomach. “I like the name Dekker, but that doesn’t go with Chester, so I’m screwed.”
“Hmmm. How about Nixon or Walker?”
“Walker. That’s actually a really nice name, and sticks with Knuckles’s W theme,” I say, surprised. “Oh shit,” I whisper, moving my hand to the right side of my stomach. “Feel this. I think the baby just moved. Oh my god, that was weird.”
And wonderful.
And amazing.
Rogue places his big hand on my stomach.
“Can you feel that?” I ask him, my words coming out in a big rush. “He just moved again!”
“I think I did feel that,” he says, eyes going wide. “Holy shit, I just stole Knuckles’s father moment and he’s going to fuckin’ kill me.”
Yet he doesn’t move his hand, he just smiles down at my belly in amazement.
Sweet, the man is sweet—vice president or not—and I really hope things work out for him.