by Meghan March
The man’s entire posture relaxes as soon as Keira slides an arm around him, and he plucks the baby from her hold.
I hope like hell no one else ever sees the vulnerability I do right now, because they’d know that the king of New Orleans’ criminal underworld could be toppled by striking at his daughter or his wife. He’d go mad without them.
“I’m just expressing to Moses how things stand.”
“We’ll be home in a few hours. Everything will be fine.” Keira looks to me. “Thank you so much, Moses. We’re incredibly grateful, and if Lachlan has made any death threats, you can just ignore them.”
Mount’s gaze swings toward his wife, rife with protest.
“Don’t glower at me. I know you. Remember?”
His chin lifts, and Mount meets my eyes once more as Magnolia takes her place beside me.
Rory snuggles into her father’s collar as he presses kisses into her messy hair like he’s eating her ear off. I don’t use the word often, but I’d dare to call it cute.
“Time to play with Auntie Mags for a little while, sweetheart,” Mount says as the tiny girl pulls her face away from his body and holds her willing, waving arms out to Magnolia.
“That’s right, princess. Let’s go play with your blocks.” My woman’s voice is soft and bouncy as she speaks to the toddler, and then adds to her parents, “All nineteen million of them.”
They immediately look guilty, but unashamed at the same time.
As soon as Magnolia has the little girl in her arms, an image hits me. It’s one of our kid and how fucking sweet our life will soon be, because neither of us are wasting any more time. We missed out on fifteen years together, and we’re not squandering another damn day.
I reach out to shake Mount’s hand. “Have a good night.” I glance at Keira. “We’ve got this covered.”
Keira leans over to hug me, and I sure as hell don’t miss the look on Mount’s face when she touches me. “Thank you for being there for Mags. She needs you more than you realize. And thank you for this too.”
“It’s a privilege,” I reply as she steps away, shocked that I still have two working kneecaps.
That man is a goner, I think with a smile. And I am too.
“How in the hell does she move so fast?” I spin around to catch Rory darting across the room, blocks in both hands, which are flailing above her head. My heart is in my fucking throat at the thought of her face-planting on the carpet. “Slow down, little girl. There’s nowhere to go in such a hurry.”
Magnolia’s laughter mixes with Rory’s as she cuts to the side to scoop her up. “That’s because Princess Aurora has so much to do. Isn’t that right, bébé?”
Rory unleashes a wave of chatter that’s barely intelligible to those of us who don’t spend all day around her. I catch a few words, but I still have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about. Frankly, she doesn’t seem to mind.
Magnolia giggles and smiles, and Rory claps the blocks together.
“Let’s see if you can fit them in the holes, smarty-pants.”
Magnolia carries the dainty girl to a table covered with small stations for kids to learn shapes. Rory knows exactly what to do, shoving the blocks in the plastic holders where they fit before using the table to scramble around the other side, stopping only to spin a wheel, and then grabs more blocks. These she doesn’t try to put in the holes. They go straight to her mouth, where she starts gumming them to death.
I gawk and jerk my gaze to Magnolia. “Is she supposed to do that?”
“She won’t choke, and Mount won’t kill us, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she says with a grin.
“Are you sure? Because I’m one hundred percent sure that he meant what he said. And I wouldn’t blame him either.”
Magnolia beams as I crouch beside her and Rory on the floor. “You’ll be just as fierce with our baby,” she says with a twinkle in her eye.
“You’re damn—shit—dang right.”
Magnolia’s joy-filled chuckles float through the room. She needed this today.
“It’s okay, Moby. She won’t pick up bad language from you if she hasn’t picked it up from her mom and dad yet. At least, that’s what Keira tells me when I curse.”
Rory turns around, smiling with drool dripping down her chin, and shoves a block at me. “You!” she orders plainly. So I take the block from her, not thinking twice about how she just gnawed on it.
I point to the hole where it goes. “You want me to put it in here?”
She lifts her narrow chin—which she inherited from her mother—and nods slowly and sagely. “You.”
“Okay.” I slide the block into the hole, and Rory screeches with excitement, clapping her hands. Then she rushes toward me and hurls herself into my arms.
As her miniature body collides with mine, I reach out to steady her. She looks up into my eyes and squeals. “Mo! Mo! Up! Up!”
I melt. There’s just no fucking other way to describe it.
Now Mount’s death threats make perfect sense.
Twenty-Seven
Magnolia
Moses freezes as he stares down at Rory, who’s clapping her hands and demanding to be picked up. I see the charmed expression on his face. It’s obvious he didn’t realize how fast this child could steal her way into his heart.
The only reason I recognize the look is because I’ve been there too. I didn’t grasp how badly I wanted this for myself until I saw Keira go through all of it. And, of course, Rory ran away with my heart too.
Moses reaches out to carefully lift the princess in the air as she shrieks with glee. The smile spreading across his face is nothing short of beatific.
Then, as if on cue . . . she pukes all over him. In slow motion. I have no idea how so much projectile vomit could come out of such a small body, but it does.
Oh, how the mighty fall.
“Shi—oot!” Moses yells, and the door bursts open as V charges inside, his gun drawn. He skids to a halt when he sees what happened and immediately starts backing away, pinching his lips tightly shut to keep from laughing.
“Get someone from the cleaning crew, please,” I tell him, and I cover my mouth to hide my own chuckles.
Moses gapes at me, wide-eyed and unbelievably shocked. “I have vomit in my ear, don’t I?” he asks as it drips down his face.
“Yeah. You do. I’ll take her, and you can go grab a towel from the bathroom, run back to our suite, and get cleaned up. I’ll stay with her.”
We trade possession of the adorable puke monster, and Moses heads to her bathroom for a towel. I’m on his heels, carrying Rory.
“What did you eat, angel cake?”
She starts talking in her adorable high-pitched gibberish, and I don’t catch any words that would account for the magnitude of the vomit comet I just witnessed.
Moses wipes off his face, and I have to give him credit for not throwing up all over the bathroom when he sees how covered he is.
“Jesus Christ. How is this even possible?” he asks, his voice now a hushed whisper as he stares at me and Rory as I turn on the tub with her smaller baby bath in it.
“Welcome to the wonderful world of toddlers. You still want to do this with me?”
As soon as the question is out, I’m terrified of the answer. Even with the barf bomb, I want a baby so damn bad. If Moses is freaked out by the first sign of hardship, I don’t know what I’ll do.
But standing there in a pink bathroom, with puke all over his shirt and still dripping from his ear, he smirks playfully. “Yeah, mama. You can bet your sweet ass I want to do it with you.”
My heart swells so big, I swear it might explode.
“But next time, you’re picking her up,” he says.
My laughter chases Moses out of the room, but my heart has never been so full.
When Mount and Keira return a couple of hours later, Mount is the first one through the door of the nursery. He bypasses me and Moses sitting in two chairs in the corner, playing a silent h
and of cards, and goes straight to the crib where Rory is fast asleep. Only once he touches her does the tension in his body drain away.
Mount may be a cold son of a bitch in ninety-nine ways out of a hundred, but there’s no doubt in my mind he loves his daughter more than life itself. It’s actually refreshing as hell to witness.
Keira hugs us both and waves us out of the nursery so we can talk without waking up her baby girl. As soon as we step into the hallway, she closes the door.
“Lachlan will stand there and watch her sleep all night, if I let him,” she says with a shake of her head and a smile on her face. “How did it go?”
My best friend looks from me to Moses and then back again.
“It went great,” I tell her. Then I look to Moses, who is freshly showered and clean. “But Rory had a bit of an upset stomach for some reason, and she puked all over Moses. However, she seemed fine right after. No fever. I’ve checked a few times.”
Keira’s green eyes go wide as she scans Moses’s giant body. “Oh no. She . . . she really has some distance with that mess, doesn’t she?”
He chokes on a laugh as Mount joins us in the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind himself.
“What happened?” he demands.
Keira quickly fills him in, and Mount’s shoulders stiffen.
“I’ll have the doctor come check her out. You should’ve called him immediately.” He shoots a hard look in my direction.
Keira puts a hand on his arm. “Rory doesn’t have a fever. She’s fine. Just like the doctor has told you every single time we’ve called him over for something like this. Kids just puke sometimes, Lachlan.”
Mount’s expression could be carved in granite. “I don’t want to take chances—”
“We’re not,” Keira says, leaning into him. “I’ll go in and give her a kiss, and if I have any inkling there’s something wrong, we’ll call him. Deal?”
“Fine,” Mount grunts out.
He might be ruthless, but that child is lucky as hell to have a daddy who cares about her so much, I think as Keira disappears inside.
Mount grills Moses about every moment we spent with Rory while they were gone until Keira comes back out.
“She’s absolutely fine. Now, let’s let these two get off to bed. Thank you both so much.” Keira steps toward me and wraps her arms around my neck. “Thank you, babe. I appreciate you.”
I’m pretty sure Mount wants to drag her away from Moses as she does the same with him, but miraculously, he controls the urge that seems to be barely contained beneath the surface.
After we say our good-nights, Moses and I walk hand in hand back to the room where we’ve taken up temporary residence.
Once inside, I strip off my shirt. “My turn for a shower.”
Moses comes up behind me. His big hands curve around my shoulders and his thumbs dig in, massaging the tension out of my achy muscles. It seems to be my new normal, but I melt under his touch.
“God, that feels good,” I murmur as I stretch my neck to one side and then the other.
When I’m utter putty in his hands, he gives me one more squeeze and presses a kiss to the nape of my neck. “Go shower. I’ll set up a game, if you’re down to play.”
I turn in his arms and lean against his solid warmth. “I’m always down for a game with you, Moby. I’ll be right out.”
Less than ten minutes later, I step out of the bathroom wearing only my towel.
Moses is carrying two glasses of amber liquor that I’m sure is Seven Sinners over to the table set for our game.
His vivid green eyes lock on the knot tucked between my breasts, and he licks his lips like a hungry wolf. “On second thought, this should be a game of strip chess. With you wearing just that. Seems fair, considering you’re still that much better than me.”
The devil on my shoulder is completely responsible for my answer. “Do I lose when I drop the towel, or do I get to keep playing?”
Those eyes of his flare with passion, the gold seeming to glow. “Oh, you’d better keep playing.”
I’m walking a thin line, but I’m not scared. “You think you’ll be able to handle it?”
“I can handle anything you’ve got.” He shifts on his feet as if his pants are suddenly less comfortable. “Do your worst.”
I strut over to the table and lift one of the glasses from his hands before I pick my side. “Then game on.”
Twenty-Eight
Moses
Right now, you might say I’m a foolish man, but I don’t give one good goddamn about it. Not when I’m staring at my woman’s tits while she deliberates over her next move. I’m down to my pants and socks, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no losing in this game. Not when I’m sitting across from Magnolia, a smile on her face, and my dick jerking every time those luscious tits bounce.
Life can be so fucking good.
When she takes my next piece, she smiles at me like a vixen. “Keep stripping, Moby.”
“Happily.” I reach down to tug off a sock and toss it on the pile beside the table.
“You ready to admit your plan backfired something fierce?” Magnolia asks with a calculated gleam in her eye. “Because you sure can’t play for shit when you’re staring at my tits.”
My lips part, a smile stretching across my face as I shake my head. “Backfired? Depends on what you think winning means to me. Because from where I’m sitting, this is the best idea I’ve ever had.”
Her rich, deep laugh sends her chest bouncing, and I reach for a chess piece at random and move it without looking at the board.
“You’re not even trying,” she says through her laughter. “You can’t even make that move with a pawn.”
I rise from my chair, take two steps around the table, and scoop her into my arms. “Then we both know who won the game, but I’m winning the whole damn night.”
I carry her out of the living room and into the bedroom, which is dark but for the dim light coming from the lamps on the nightstands. I kick the door shut behind us and walk her over to the bed.
“You’re really calling the whole night a win? Complete with baby puke and everything?”
She sounds upbeat, but I hear the undercurrent of concern in Magnolia’s voice. She’s afraid, after Mount and Keira’s kid’s vomiting episode, that I might have second thoughts about doing the whole baby thing. That’s where she’s wrong.
“Mama, there would be no greater privilege in my life than to put a ring on your finger and give you a baby. I’m not changing my mind at the first bump in the road. Kids are a mixed bag of a whole lot of crazy shit, but as long as it’s you and me taking it on together, I’m ready.”
Magnolia’s face softens. “You really mean that.”
I lower my head to touch my forehead to hers. “Damn right I do. And if you give me a baby girl, you better pray for us all, because I’m going to have to stay jacked and ripped as hell so no boy ever looks at her twice. I’ll have to get T-shirts printed with my picture on them saying That’s My Daddy so they know what they’re dealing with if they get within twenty feet of her.”
Magnolia’s joyful giggles fill me with things that are both unexpected and welcome. Lightness. Hope. Peace.
“You’re crazy, Moby. I seriously hope we have at least one girl, because I love the sound of all that.” She goes quiet for a beat, and her expression takes on a serious cast. “And I love you.”
My heart slams against my chest, and I know my woman can feel it. Her arms tighten around my neck as I let her words sink in, repeating them in my brain. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I’ve waited so fucking long to hear those words from her, and it takes me a good ten seconds to pull my shit together. My arms constrict around her, and I crush Magnolia to my chest.
“I fucking love you, woman. So goddamned much. I should’ve come back sooner—”
Magnolia silences my regrets with a shake of her head. “No more agonizing over the past. We’re living in the pre
sent and only looking forward.”
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” I whisper into her ear as I keep her locked against me.
“Does it matter? Because you’re stuck with me now.”
I lift my head. “Damn right. So this baby-making business . . . from what I hear, it takes a lot of rehearsal to get it just right.”
“You know, I believe I’ve heard the same thing.”
I lower her the rest of the way to the bed, and neither of us says another word that anyone else could understand for the rest of the night. And when I fall asleep beside my woman, my hand curved around her hip, I’m certain it’s all going to work out.
I don’t know what the fuck we’re going to have to go through to get to the other side, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to lose the paradise I’ve found.
I will fight for this.
For us.
For our future.
Come hell or high water, I’m never letting her go.
Twenty-Nine
Magnolia
Two more days of playing house at Mount and Keira’s, and we still don’t have any more answers. At this point, I’m starting to wonder if Trey really is as good as Moses says. Although there’s no way I’m going to ask that question. Especially since the asshole who wants me dead has been erased and must know all the tricks for staying off the radar.
Still, it’s frustrating as hell. At least, during the day. At night, Moses drives all dread and worry from my head with that big, hard body of his. Good Lord, the man has it going on.
And every night, when we fall asleep, he has to be touching me somehow, somewhere. Whether it’s his hand on my leg, or me pulled back against his chest, he’s always making contact with me. I love it.
And speaking of love, after we both said those three little words for the first time, they now come out easily.
I’ve never had this before, and it feels like a revelation.
