Page 36 of The (Maybe) Murderer Who Knocked Me Up

“These are from a dog training event,” I explain. “Get it? Easy lay? Like getting a dog to lay?”

Slade bites back a smile. “Sure.”

“We don’t slut shame in our family,” I say. “It’s against everything we believe in. These are just some extra shorts in case of an emergency.” I know I’m rambling. I also know that I need to put on these shorts, and then walk out of a seedy motel while wearing them. That part I’m having a hard time following through on.

Slade tosses me his shirt. “Here. You can wear this. It should hide the back of the shorts.”

“Oh, um,” I pause, not sure how to tell him that he can’t show up to my moms’ house without a shirt. Then again, maybe the glory of his shirtless body might help explain how I got into this mess in the first place.

“You need to wear it,” I insist, handing the shirt back to him. “I’ll be fine.”

He looks at me for a long beat, then pulls it over his head. Now he’s fully dressed, which means it’s my turn.

I stand up and get it over with. Unfortunately, the shorts are much too large. I have to roll up the elastic waist until it’s snug on my hips. By that point, they’re basically booty shorts.

Slade is still trying not to smile and failing. Damn him.

“We should get going.” I strategically hold my ruined jeans behind me, hopefully blocking the bright yellow letters on my ass.

“For what it’s worth, you make those shorts look good,” he says.

“Uh huh.” I march ahead of him, pretending that I am immune to his praise. I’m not, of course. My inner omega is very pleased.

To my intense relief, no one notices us leaving the motel. Not even the attendant at the front desk, because I completely forget to return the key. Slade is the one who realizes my mistake just as I’m about to turn on the engine. And yes, I do stare at his ass when he jogs back to the room. I also stare at it when he runs to the front office.

By the time he gets back to the car, I experience an all-too-familiar discomfort between my legs. And not because I’m sore. I want him to fuck me again, despite the fact that he knotted me less than ten minutes ago. So much for easing the sexual tension.

“You ready to go?” I ask.

He nods. “We’re going to your moms’ house, right?”

“Yes. Then I can take you wherever you want to go. Unless you don’t have anywhere to go?”

The thought had occurred to me more than once when I signed up to be his transportation out of Sciff.

“My brother has a room for me at his place. At least until I get back on my feet.”

That must be the brother he killed someone to protect. I start the engine and slowly back out of the parking space. We still have an hour until we get to my moms’ house. At least that doesn’t feel as insurmountable now. I still want to jump into bed with Slade, but I feel more comfortable with him.

A little too comfortable, probably.

“How is your brother doing?” I ask.

Slade’s face lights up. “He just finished his degree in computer science. He’s a smart guy. And he bonded to this great alpha named Stew. He’s a family man. Really close to his parents and siblings. Jake chose a good one.”

I’ve never seen Slade smile like this before. He’s unabashedly happy, like Link’s golden retriever energy when he’s on the football field.

“Jake’s pregnant too,” Slade says. “With a girl. He sends me these emails that say how big she is. Right now she’s the size of an avocado.”

He’s rambling. Since when does Slade ramble?

“They haven’t picked out a name yet, but they were thinking Hannah or Julie, after Stew’s moms. I can’t wait to see him pregnant. I asked him not come to Sciff after he told me about the pregnancy. He said it was fine, but I want him and the baby to be safe, you know?”

Guilt twists in my gut. This is the man I decided was too dangerous to meet his own child. I remind myself that Slade killed someone. But that someone was trying to hurt his family.

“Do you ever want kids?” I say, even though I should not be asking that.

He turns away from me. “I’m sure that’s not in the cards for me.”

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