Grill (The Wounded Sons Book 3)

by Leah Sharelle

  Moving across to Marshall, I deliberately stood in front of him, my height did nothing but cover half of his body. But at least I was stopping her from getting too much of a gawk at his impressive chest and waist. Why did the man have to be built like a Greek Adonis?

  “And this is the father?” bitch-face asked, looking at me for the first time since entering the room.

  Oh, now you see me, do you?

  “Yes, he is, and he is also my boyfriend,” I informed her haughtily.

  Suck on those lemons whore bag.

  “He is?” The tart asked shocked, her head whipping from me to Marshall then back to me. Before I could get offended and cut the bitch, Marshall wrapped his arms around me, his hands lacing together on my belly.

  “I am, now could we have some privacy? I need to get my girl in the gown so we can get this done and out of this bacteria swamp,” Marshall told her, effectively ending any hope that this woman thought she had with him.

  His girl, was I? I know I referred to him as my boyfriend, but we were yet to define anything more than the titles of parents to our child. Sex, as amazing as it was last night, did not constitute a life long monogamous relationship. I think.

  Dumb nurse muttered an apology as she made a hasty retreat, closing the door behind her.

  “Boyfriend? Is that how you want me to be seen, Sweet Cheeks?” Marshall asked, turning me around, his body bending at the waist, so he was at eye level with me.

  “I don’t know, I guess so.” I shrugged, still annoyed at the audacity of the cute cow. And let’s not forget skinny, unlike my tubby self.

  “I can’t believe she was practically hitting on you when this is very evident we did the deed,” I huffed, waving my hand at my belly.

  “Baby, there was no chance of any interest coming from me. You are all I see, and all I am interested in,” Marshall assured me, but I couldn’t shake the insecurities building.

  “Even though she is gorgeous and slim and blonde?” My god was that my voice! Why did I need his reassurance that I was worth something? Goddamn my birth parents to hell for making me this way.

  “Addy haven’t I proven myself yet? What more can I do to show you that I am in this with both feet? That woman didn’t even rate a slither of my interest. You, Addy, all I see is you.” I heard the hurt in his tone, hurt I was causing him. If I didn’t get my head out of my butt and deal with my own personal fears, there was a chance that I could push him away. I didn’t want to push him; I wanted him close. Always.

  My body melted into his, his words doing exactly what I hoped. Instantly, I calmed and something in me settled. We had a way to go though before I could believe he wasn’t going to run off at the first sign of boredom or when things got hairy with the baby and general life sharing.

  “Yeah, you are,” I admitted, not making eye contact, rather I kept my eyes on his stubble-covered chin.

  Hmmm, that stubble did many wonderful things to my lady parts.

  “I’m getting there Marshall, please don’t give up on me yet,” I begged, grabbing a fistful of his tee shirt, pulling him closer until our foreheads met and I saw nothing but his beautiful brown eyes.

  “Never baby, I will never give up. You can count on that,” Marshall answered me immediately. His voice never wavered once, his browns never faulted.

  I let out a shuddery breath, the tension easing slightly.

  Thank God.

  “Okay, okay. How about we get this gown on so we can get out of this cesspool of germs.” My attempt at lightening the mood worked because Marshall’s handsome face morphed from seriously annoyed to just his usual serious.

  “I’m not going anywhere Addy, get used it.” Marshall’s lips met mine in a whisper-soft kiss. There was no heat, no intentions behind it other than to show me that he was indeed here with me.

  Rubbing my nose along his, I smiled at him.

  “I’m getting there,” I repeated, this time really believing it.

  ***

  “Are you sure you are alright?” I asked when we reached the car park, standing beside Marshall’s ute. Since the technician told us the sex of our baby, Marshall had lapsed into a silence that was starting to worry me. Maybe he was happy that we were having a —

  “A girl, Addy! We are having a daughter, a daughter that is most definitely going to look like you!” Marshall muttered, his hands flying through the top mop of his hair, messing it up.

  “Um, yes, we are, and yes, she may very well look like me,” I hedged slowly, not quite picking up what he was putting down.

  I stood there and waited for him to elaborate, watching him pace back and forth in front of the car, muttering to himself about boys, guns, protection and self-defence. A giggle escaped from me when I realised what was wrong with him. He wasn’t worried about having a girl; he was worried about his girl.

  Warmth settled in my belly; this man never ceased to amaze me. Walking to him, I put my arms around his waist and hugged him to me.

  “Honey, you know she isn’t even born yet. We have other things to worry about first before organising self-defence, like buying a cot, clothes, and nappies. You know stuff she is going to need well before you turn her into a trained killer.” I laughed at my humour and expected Marshall to as well. Instead of laughing along with me, his arms tightened around my waist. His chest heaved heavily in and out against me.

  Pulling away from him, I looked up into his stunned face. “Marshall?”

  “You called me honey, you haven’t ever called me anything but my given name, or even Grill,” he said, looking like I did something so extraordinary.

  A blush crept across my cheeks; I hadn’t even realised I called him a pet name.

  “Is that okay? I mean, I didn’t think about it; the word just came out naturally, which is weird for me,” I mused, “calling you Grill doesn’t feel right with me. But if you don’t like it, then I will stop—”

  Marshall’s lips captured mine, stopping me from saying anything else. This kiss much different from the one in the hospital. This one had intent, passion and promise. Fisting my hands in his shirt, I melted against him and lost myself under his spell. I don’t know how long we stood there pouring every part of ourselves into the kiss, and quite frankly, I didn’t care. For the first time in my life, I felt safe. For the first time, I felt real hope flare deep inside me that something good was finally happening to me. That having a family was a reality.

  Moaning under his administrations, I licked my tongue along the inside of Marshall’s bottom lip, enticing a groan from him. His bulging cock pressed into my belly, but when I opened my mouth wider in encouragement, he ripped his lips away, his panting breath mingling with my own.

  “You can call me honey or baby or any other sweet name you want to call me, but not Grill. I love that you use my given name, only you, Sweet Cheeks,” Marshall whispered fervently, his forehead leaning on mine, his lips so close to my mouth, his hands holding my cheeks gently.

  Pecking him on the lips, I smiled shyly at him. “Okay, honey,” I agreed, loving the happiness radiating from his beautiful brown eyes.

  “A girl!” he marvelled, grinning happily.

  “So it seems.” I laughed, laying my head back on his chest, his arms going back around my waist, holding me to him.

  “Fucking hell, I’m screwed,” he muttered. His chin resting on the top of my head. “But so fucking happy.”

  And just like that, with those sweet crass words, I fell in love with the father of my daughter.

  ***

  “So, are you getting married?” Olivia asked, surprising me. We were finished for the day, and the doors were closed, the overnight patients were feed and the night nurse on duty to look after them. My feet hurt, my back ached and my stomach was growling furiously for food— nothing unusual after a long day at work.

  “Not anytime soon. We are still getting to know each other and he is still getting used to the fact he is going to be a daddy,” I explained, choosing my words caref
ully. Olivia and I got along pretty well, and I liked her, she’d worked for me since I bought the practice. She was a very competent assistant, but she liked to gossip. I detested gossip and always kept out of her sessions with the part-time assistants, and I was none too happy that she was digging for fodder for the next one.

  “But you are sleeping together right? I mean, I know I would jump his bones if I had him in my house. The man is sex on a stick.”

  I stood there with the box of syringes I’d just picked off the floor in my arms, anger surging through me as well as jealousy. Olivia wasn’t wrong about one thing, Marshall was indeed a very good-looking man, but her describing him as ‘sex on a stick’ or asking if we were intimate wasn’t going to fly.

  “Olivia, what goes on in my private life is just that, private. My relationship with Marshall is not going to become a topic in the break room or any other room for that matter. Understood?” I raised my brow at her and waited for her to answer. She probably would have if the man in question had not of walked into the room, a fierce scowl on his face.

  “I certainly hope she understands because if she doesn’t, then we are going to have a problem, and we don’t want to have a problem, do we, Olivia?” Marshall walked past Olivia making his way to me, sparing her nothing more than a glance.

  “Hey, Sweet Cheeks, wanna tell me why you are carrying this box?” he asked, before planting a chaste kiss on my mouth and relieving me of the box.

  “You’re early?” I admonished him, then leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss of my own.

  “I am aware, but you haven’t answered my question.”

  “Babe, I am a vet. I lift heavy animals, equipment, and yes, sometimes I lift heavy boxes. It’s part of the job.”

  “I don’t want you lifting anything in your condition, just leave this shit for when I get here,” he replied with narrowed eyes, but I saw them sparkle when I called him babe. Who knew a big, bad commando liked pet names.

  “Oh, okay, so when I need to get a Labrador or a bulldog up on the table, I will give you a call, yeah?” I asked flippantly, enjoying our back and forth banter.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, that is exactly what I want you to do.”

  “Gonna be kind of difficult when you are a billion kilometres away in a desert or jungle, don’t ya think?” I teased.

  “Um, I think I better get going,” Olivia interrupted, sounding a little unsure of herself. “I apologise for what I said, Addy, um Marshall. It won’t happen again.”

  Marshall placed the box on the table beside us, then turned around with his arm over my shoulder. He was so much taller than me; I fit under his arm perfectly.

  “Thank you, Olivia, Addy and I are working things out; what we don’t need is her friends giving her a hard time and asking personal questions. Copy?”

  Olivia squirmed under Marshall’s intense scrutiny and I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. Poor girl, I knew how she felt.

  “Yes, of course, I ah … copy.” Her eyes darted from Marshall to me, a look of surprise then shock, replacing her embarrassment.

  Before I could ask her what that look was all about, she turned around and hastily left the room, a moment later I heard the side door slam closed.

  “You are such a big bad meanie,” I giggled, dislodging from his hold so I could grab my bag and coat. This dress and heels might have been a good choice this morning, but ten hours later, I was definitely feeling the aches and pains from the height of the heels and the tightness of the fashionable bandage style dress.

  Usually, I wore scrubs at work, changing when I got here. Animals coming in tended to leave hair all over me, and some of them vomited or peed on me. Today, however, I wanted to dress up and look good. Getting back to work after my appointment to a waiting room full of patients, I didn’t have time to swap over my heels for flats or dress for scrubs.

  “And you are still in trouble. Addy, I mean it, lifting shit isn’t good for you or the baby. Maybe you need to get someone in who can take over the heavy shit, at least someone to put away stock boxes for you,” Marshall said, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from my desk.

  “Marshall I can’t afford another wage right now. I have a full-time night vet nurse on staff, two part-timers and, Olivia, who is full-time. After paying them and the loans I have, I barely pull a wage for myself,” I explained, a little exasperated at him. It is all well and good to suggest putting someone on to help out, but the reality of it was, I couldn’t afford it. Business was decent, my patient list grew every month, but then so did my competition. Ballarat had a lot of vet clinics, most of them were small animal practices like mine, but recently a big corporation came into town and opened a super clinic catering to farm and domestic animals all under the one roof. Farm animals weren’t my specialty, so I wasn’t losing clients that way, but with a clinic that specialised in both, I had noticed a few of my regulars had disappeared, which I assumed was because of the new place.

  “Okay, will you let me talk to Shiloh?”

  “What? How can she help?” I asked, perplexed as to why he thought the president of the Wounded Souls could help me with my staffing issues.

  “She has men at the compound called prospects. Basically, they are apprentices, and they do things around the club and for the club businesses. They do whatever is needed of them, and whatever Shiloh or the patched members ask them to do.”

  “I know what a prospect is,” I said, nodding, “but why would Shiloh ask them to help me? My clinic doesn’t have anything to do with them, other than Kelsey being a client that is.”

  Marshall held out his hand for me, dropping my bag and jacket back on the table. I gave him my hand and allowed him to pull me down onto his lap. His arms went around me and like always, I melted into him.

  “What if you were to ask Shiloh about the club going into partnership with you? That way, the financial burden isn’t all on you, and when you go on maternity leave, you can take longer than you planned. As well, you can have more time at home with the baby, and the clinic will be covered with a temp vet.”

  “Partnership? Is that something they even do?” I could tell Marshall wanted me to take it easy. Hell, I wanted to take it easy; the bigger I got, the harder performing my job became. I wasn’t stubbornly doing this on my own; money was tight with wages and loans every week. Maternity leave was really a pipedream, I had thought about bringing the baby to work with me, using one of the storage rooms off my office for a nursey. It wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t want to put my baby in day care. She was mine to raise and the prospect of having a stranger do it gave me night sweats.

  “Yes, they do it all the time. They have businesses all over town, but they also help small business owners by way of silent partnerships. At least meet with Shiloh and Booth. He isn’t the pres any more, but he is still the founder of the club, along with Deck and the other original members. They control the financials, giving them the power to say yay or nay. Shiloh is in charge of dealing with the prospects and the day to day dealings with the club, where they go and who they report to daily. Let’s go talk with them, see if this is something they are interested in doing.”

  “You have put some thought into this. My working worries you that much?” I asked, concerned whereabouts his worries laid exactly. Was he comparing me to his mother, a working parent that had issues and left him neglected of her time? That I couldn’t look after the baby and me when he got his orders to be deployed? Or was he genuinely concerned about me and my welfare?

  My trust and self-worth issues still needed some work, just because I admitted I was in love with Marshall didn’t fix the crap swirling around in my head. He was yet to tell me how he felt about me as a person, not someone carrying his child. His actions spoke volumes, but I needed the words. Call me a girl, but I couldn’t help it. Hearing him tell me that he loved me would go a long way to helping me feel more secure in our relationship, and maybe just maybe to loving myself.

  “Don�
��t make up shit that isn’t there Addy. I know what kind of person you are, and I know you are going to be a fantastic mum to our daughter.” Warm lips pressed to my neck, trailing a wet path up to my ear lobe, then finally to my mouth. My pussy was weeping just from his tender kisses and my heart racing from his words.

  “You and the baby are my only concern, Sweet Cheeks. My job is unpredictable at best, yeah, we have special privileges and can live off base most of the time. There are going to be many times when it won’t be possible for me to be here.” Marshall stopped to press a frantic kiss to my lips, it was quick, but I felt his frustration in it.

  “You haven’t experienced a long deployment since we got together. Some can be as short as a week, and some can last months. I can’t do my job and have my team’s back if I am worried about you. If you are working too hard, aren’t eating properly or lifting heavy shit,” he growled, looking at the box of syringes he’d caught me with earlier.

  I didn’t like the thought of Marshall worrying about me so much that it affected his performance. His commando position meant the world to him, as did his teammates, and I refused to be the reason for him being hurt or worse. I never liked the idea of going into business with another person; I borrowed the whole purchase amount from the bank so I could go it alone. This idea, though, of a silent partner did appeal to me. Marshall trusted the club, and I knew about their generosity. As a resident of Ballarat, it was hard not to hear about the Wounded Souls and all the good they did. Spending as much time at home with our daughter sounded like a dream, being away from Marshall, though didn’t.

  According to Wren, it was only a matter of time before the guys got called up. Already they had been home for just over a week, and while her fiancé wasn’t allowed to share any classified information with her, she informed me Bastian and Gabe had been on the phone with their commanding officers a lot in the last few days.