Page 23 of Not Ready

The number of times guys swore they were in love with their girl back home, only to end up with a baby mama or two from the base bunnies is more than I can count on two hands. And those fuckers were supposedly in committed relationships.

I exhale heavily and aim for the door. After meeting Vale, I can see why he’s so drawn to her. The doe-eyed gaze and vulnerability are enough to trigger any alpha’s instincts.

On the other hand, I’m pretty sure Bishop is in too deep to think objectively. And whether he sees it that way or not, I’m always going to look out for his best interests.

Meaning, it might just be time to get to know her on my own. That way, I can get a feel for whether she’s serious about him or only taking advantage of his kindness.

Marina is just plating scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast when I saunter into the kitchen the next morning. For being in her sixties, she’s spry and always happy in the mornings.

“We have an extra houseguest.” I slide my back up to the kitchen island and plant my palms on it before lifting myself onto it.

“I’ve heard all about that,” she assures me, chuckling fondly. “Mercy is having a crisis about what happens if she doesn’t accept his offer. Bishop made sure to inform me that she’s eating for two and not to be surprised if I run into her.”

“Is he up?”

“Oh yes, and quite furious that Mercy called him in for the post-op medical clearance and debrief.” Marina spins around, setting a plate at my side. “I should get onto you for having your backside on the counter.”

“But I’m too cute to yell at?” I offer, grabbing the plate.

“No, I just happen to hear some huffing and puffing coming our way. I don’t want to be blessing you out the first time I meet the woman,” Marina says, her light blue eyes sparkling.

My head whips to the doorway, and sure enough, Vale is awake. Her long hair is a little frizzy and all over the place, but it’s the dark circles under her eyes that have me hopping off the counter.

I set the plate down and head in her direction. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

She gives a polite smile. “Not bad.”

It’s clearly a lie, but I don’t call her on it. “Are you hungry? Marina makes some mean scrambled eggs.”

Her hand flies to her stomach, and she wobbles a little. “Yeah, I think maybe my blood sugar got too low or something?”

Marina frowns. “Take her to the sofa. I’ll be right there.”

“Do you like orange juice? We’ve probably got apple too.” I take the few steps to her side and hold out an arm. “Any preferences?”

“Apple would be great. Orange juice gives me killer indigestion lately.” She links her arm through mine, and we head for the living room.

“That’s no fun. Is anything else bothering you this morning?”

“No, truly, I’m fine. It’s probably just that I didn’t eat much yesterday, or I really have no idea. Pregnancy sure is an adventure.” She shrugs. “It’s hard. My first impulse is always to call my mom, but…”

The look on her face makes it clear that’s not an option.

I grab the throw pillow, moving it aside. “This seat is my favorite. I’ve got a nice little butt groove going on. Back when Bishop and I moved in with Mercy, this couch was as hard as a rock.”

She chuckles. “I don’t want to take your seat.”

“I’m offering. It’s also got the best view of the television when you stretch out.”

“Sold,” she says, taking a seat and scooting back.

I’m squatting down to lift her legs before I realize what’s happening. “Here, just turn a little for me.”

She complies, and her legs end up stretched across the couch.

I sit on the edge, feeling around her ankles. It’s extremely fucking random, and I know that, but even the ankle band of Bishop’s sweats seems to be leaving an indent. “Is swelling normal during pregnancy?”

“It is,” Marina calls out from the kitchen. “But if it’s severe, we should call Patrick.”

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