I don’t say anything. I can’t. It was just a casual touch. That’s all. Don’t read into it. Don’t make a fuss.
I don’t breathe until I’m alone again, and only then do I step away from the counter. I don’t get the cup of tea I was making.
By the time 5 PM rolls around, I’m a twitchy mess. Casey sends a prospect to pick me up. I’m glad it’s Jake and not Tommy. Jake doesn’t talk, and I want to get lost in the silence of my own thoughts.
He takes me to the clubhouse, and I thank him as I get out of the truck, and head into the building.
Instantly, I feel some of the stress melt from my bones. The low rumble of the music mixes with familiar voices, every single person in this room as close as family. Chopper pinches my cheek as I walk past, like I’m five years old, and laughs when I shove him off me.
“Is Casey around?” I ask when I don’t see him in the room.
“Prez is in church. He’ll be out in a minute.”
I lick my suddenly dry lips.Am I shaking?It feels like I might be.
My smile is strained, even though I adore Chopper.
I head over to the bar, slipping onto a stool. My ass has barely touched the seat before Tommy slides a glass in front of me. Reflex has me lifting the glass until I smell the alcohol. I place it back on the bar top.
No alcohol. No coffee.I’m sure there’s a list of other things I’m not supposed to have in mycondition.
I’m only sitting there for a few minutes before I feel his presence. Casey has this way of sucking the air out of any room he is in. I twist, and see him cutting across the room to me.
My nerves blossom, and while I would usually ogle my husband, I’m too busy trying not to throw up.
As soon as he is close enough, his hand trails around my hip, so different from how James touched me earlier. Casey is all possession. He touches me like every move is claiming, and usually I love it, would melt into it, but I’m too anxious right now.
When he dips his head and presses a searing kiss to my lips, I meet it with passion. I need his reassurance, even if he doesn’t know that’s what I’m taking from this.
When he pulls back, his eyes search mine in that way he always does, as if he’s trying to drag everything out of my head into his.
His hand wraps around my nape, a statement that I’m his. “You okay?”
My smile is genuine, because even though my stomach is in knots and nausea is chewing through my gut, everything in me relaxes around him. “I am now.”
He swipes his thumb back and forth over my neck, and I lean into his touch.
“You still look pale.” He says it like an accusation, like he should have been able to make it go away.
Because I’m pregnant…
It sits on the tip of my tongue to tell him, but not here. Not in front of his men. I don’t know how he’s going to react, but he deserves privacy when I drop this on him. At least that’s one secret I’m keeping that I can unburden. If he knew about the shit I’m dealing with at work, he’d set fire to the fucking building. “I’m okay.”
I don’t think he believes me, and I don’t blame him for that. I look a hot mess.
He lifts my hand, brushing his mouth over my knuckles. “Let’s get you home.”
I slide off the stool, and his arm automatically wraps around my shoulders. Nitro, his vice president, lifts his chin at me as I walk past.
“See you later, First Lady.”
I roll my eyes at him. I hate when he calls me that, which is why he does it.
It’s still light as we head out to the parking lot. The noise of the clubhouse behind us fades into the background and all I can hear is my pulsing heartbeat.
He pauses in front of his bike, and my stomach sinks. I’m pretty sure riding on the back of a motorcycle with an “unexpected item in the bagging area” is a no-go.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to work out how to phrase this without him going nuclear, but whatever I say he’s going to question, and as soon as we get home I’m going to tell him the truth anyway.
