“Traitor,” Morgan muttered.
Bastian bent to place a hand on either side of the generous swell of her stomach. He pressed his cheek against her tummy. The flurry of kicks and punches was instant. With every well-placed foot and elbow, sharp jabs of pain stabbed through her ribs. The baby shifted, and she suddenly had a fierce urge to pee.
“Great.” She swatted Bastian’s shoulder. “You got her going again!”
Bastian looked up at her with twinkling sapphire eyes. “Him, not her.” The sight, like always, had her heart speeding up.
“Her,” she argued.
He whispered something in Gaelic against her stomach, and the babe, lulled by Daddy’s deep voice, settled almost instantly. Bastian straightened and grabbed her ponytail and then tugged. The sharp sensation sent a shiver down her spine, and she leaned into him. He drew her head back before murmuring the word, “Him,” against her lips. He closed the distance between them.
Her toes curled. She threaded her fingers through his hair. Holding her close, he ran his tongue along her lower lip until she opened for him.
“Will you two knock it off?” Nolan yelled. “If you can’t stop sucking face for more than a few minutes, you can go somewhere else. This bar isn’t going to open itself. Jesus, I should have known not to put you two in the same room. Morgan, go sit down before you give birth in the middle of the floor. Bastian, you go help in the kitchen.”
On cue, both she and Bastian raised their hands and flipped him off. While the whole tell-Morgan-you-were-screwing-other-women thing had blown over, things weren’t exactly perfect between Bastian and Nolan. They were getting there, though, day by day.
Bastian broke their kiss and grinned against her mouth. “Sit.”
“But I want to help. I think I’m nesting. That’s what the books say.”
“Well, go nest over there at the table where you can sit down.” Bastian shooed her to one of the booths and stood guard until she complied. Bossy ass.
Morgan scooted in, barely, and looked around the room. The place, nothing but empty space when they’d bought it, finally resembled a bar. Black-and-tan booths pressed against the full wood-paneled walls. Tall mahogany tables with high-backed chairs filled the middle of the floor. The blue-tinted glass shelves that lined the wall behind the polished-within-an-inch-of-its-life bar were empty and waiting for the various types of high-end liquor Nolan had hand selected.
Her gaze strayed to the front entrance with its glass door and two large windows on either side. The entire front wall was made of large alternating gray and black boulders. Morgan looked at the stone, heard the horrible sound of brains splattering against it. She rubbed her shoulder, the place where the poisoned bullet had melted through skin. The wound, now a puckered scar, still ached from time to time. Her hand, the one Ronan had burned, was shiny and smooth with celluloid scars that would eventually heal as immortality kicked into full gear.
Several months had passed since Bastian and his brothers had shot Ronan, yet that night still haunted her. The nightmares came routinely. Every time she woke with Ronan’s haunting laughter in her ear, a scream tearing from her throat, Bastian was there to pull her into his arms.
As a group, they’d decided it was best to vacate the East Coast. She’d picked their new place at random, a remotely populated coastal city in southern Washington. Large monetary donations and Bastian’s new position as sheriff helped ease the transition into small-town life.
“Did you two settle on a name yet?” Rory asked and sat opposite her.
Bastian scooted in next to Rory and set a cold, dripping beer in front of his brother. He took a swig from his own bottle and swallowed. “Haven Sebastian.”
“This baby isn’t a boy,” Morgan countered. “Auriella Rory.”
Nolan walked by and glared. “The bar opens tonight, and you guys are already taking another break?”
Rory grinned. “Chill out. Everything will get done, and we’ll open as scheduled. Seriously, pick the panties out of your ass and have a drink with us.”
“Fine.” Nolan pulled a chair up to the table, flipped it back, and sank into it so his plaid-covered chest pressed against the slats. “We aren’t scarring my niece with a middle name like Rory.”
And…the great baby-name debate went into full swing. Morgan smiled, sat back in the booth, and looked around at her family. She met Bastian’s gaze across the table.
Under the table, he picked up her foot and took off her worn sneaker. He pressed his thumbs into the arch of her foot, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She bit back a moan. Bastian grinned, moved to her newly developed cankle, and applied just the right amount of pressure.
The rolling wave of pain started in her lower back and crawled around her sides to enclose her tightening stomach from the bottom up. Her eyes snapped open, and she gripped her hard-as-a-rock belly. She cried out at the intense pain shooting down her legs. Bastian’s hands tightened on her foot, and when Morgan breathed through the last of the pain, everyone looked at her with wide, identical, panicked expressions on their faces.
“What was that?” Nolan asked with accusing eyes.
Morgan gritted her teeth and tried to move her ass into a more comfortable position. The wave hit again, this time stealing her breath as her entire body tensed. She panted through the pain. “I think I just went into labor.”
Bastian’s face went ashen. Nolan looked ill. Rory took a swig from his beer.
“Dude!” Nolan yelled and pointed to Rory. “Do something.”
Rory chuckled. “The baby isn’t just going to fall out. There’s plenty of time to gather the blankets and boil the water.”
“Fuck you. We aren’t having the baby here.” Bastian finished his beer, snagged his brother’s, and downed that too.
Morgan grimaced through another contraction and glanced at Rory. The concentrated look on his face turned into a frown as he stared at his watch. He looked up before meeting her gaze. “Your contractions are awfully close together. Are these the first you’ve had?”
“I dunno. These are the first ones that hurt…” Her sentence trailed off with another wave of pain.
“Shit, Morgan,” Rory said. “I don’t know if you’re going to make it to the hospital.”
“What?” It was Morgan’s turn to panic. “You aren’t… Oh God,” she moaned, curled around her stomach. A warm gush of water exploded between her legs, and she looked down at her crotch in horror. “I either just peed my pants or my water broke.”
“I’m out of here,” Nolan said and backed away. “I love you, Morgan, but I am not watching your vagina stretch wide enough to birth a baby.”
“Chicken,” Rory called out as he shoved a shock-frozen Bastian from the booth and stood.
Another contraction rolled through her, this one more intense, more painful. She gripped the table, knuckles turning white. “Oh, my, fuck, that really hurts!”
* * * *
They hadn’t made it to the hospital. Two hours later Auriella Rory Hale came into the world with a mop of dark brown hair. Morgan gazed across the room to where Nolan and Rory huddled close, cooing over Auri. Nolan abruptly stopped babbling, looked at something on his chest, and frowned. He held the baby out, wrinkled his nose.
An offended expression left his mouth slightly open. “I think the little princess just peed on me!”
Rory whooped, stole the baby from his arms, and nuzzled the niece he’d helped bring into the world. “That’s my girl.”
Beside her, Bastian chuckled. He pressed his lips against the sweaty strands of her hair before picking up their joined hands and kissing her simple gold wedding band. “I love you,” he whispered.
She turned to him, cupped his face in both hands, and met his bright eyes. The past faded away, a bad memory she vowed would no longer haunt either of them. With her lips against his, she muttered, “I love you too. Always and forever.”
Loose Id Titles by Madeline Pryce
Crimson Sins
Madeline Pryce
Madeline Pryce wrote her first novel when she was ten, penned with neon-pink ink in a loose-leaf binder. Captivated by romantic literature, yet intrigued by the paranormal, she continues to develop her own voice, writing the kinds of stories that inspired her as a teen.
Links where you can reach Madeline Pryce:
Main Web site: http://madelinepryce.blogspot.com
Additional blog: http://sevensinfulscribes.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/madelineprycefanclub/
Email: [email protected]
Crimson Sins Page 31
