Page 8 of Bae

I held the phone out so he could see the screenshot of the newest article unleashed by the stalkerazzi.

Stalkerazzi = the press who wouldn’t stop printing stories about me and my wife.

I actually really preferred to call them fucking photogs, but Rim didn’t appreciate my “foul” language. I didn’t appreciate the way they’d been torturing my wife. Still, I tried to tone it down when I was around my girl because it was the right thing to do.

B snorted. “What is this, your tenth divorce in the last three months?”

“Look at the fucking sub-headline,” I ground out.

Braeden grabbed the phone and angled it more toward him and leaned around my shoulder. A low growl vibrated the air around us. “How is she?” he asked quietly, shoving the phone away from his eyes.

I pulled it back and texted Trent.Rim seen it?

His reply was instant.Unfortunately.

How is she?

A little quiet but fine.

They hovering?I typed back quickly, suddenly feeling like flying home tomorrow just wasn’t soon enough.

Nope,he replied.

I found that surprising, but I didn’t bother saying so. Thank fuck for Trent. Over my shoulder, B was reading the exchange. I let him. Less to reiterate later.

You home now?I typed out.

Yep. I’ll hang for a while. I told her I needed cookies.

I felt my lips curl up. Rim couldn’t resist a hungry family member. Even if she didn’t feel like being “babysat,” as she called it, the second Trent declared hunger, she’d make sure he was fed. Everyone called me the alpha of our family, but I considered her the head of us all. After the wedding, Rimmel really settled in. That ring might just be jewelry on her finger, but those vows, the papers we signed, it gave her something.

Security. A permanent family she’d never had. A promise we would never go away. The completion of the compound and having us all behind the gates together only made it stronger. Rim was the one who looked after everyone, who enforced pancake Sunday and proved loyalty and family was far stronger than blood.

She was our glue.

She wasmyglue.

It’s the mother in her.The thought sent a pang of pain and regret through me, but I forced it away.

Braeden snorted. “Bastard always gets the cookies.” Then he made a sound and muttered, “She better not feed him my sprinkles.”

Thanks, bro. I’ll call her when I get to the hotel,I typed out, then shoved the phone in the locker so I could go shower off in a hurry. I wanted to get back to the room so I could call Rim, hear her voice.

I missed her. It had been two weeks since I’d seen her last, and it was two weeks too long. If I was already missing her this much, this fast, it was going to be a hella long season of traveling.

Braeden was staring at me as I moved past. I kept going. He fell into step beside me as we headed toward the shower stalls.

“I’m getting really fucking tired of the press.” My tone was short and gruff. Actually, I was already tired of the press. I was done the first time they printed something that hurt Rimmel.

B slapped me on the shoulder. “Dude, just say the word. I’ve got a bin full of fireworks and paintballs I’m just waiting to unleash on those gossip suckers.”

I made a rude sound.

He was a little too silent. I glanced over at him.

He was staring back, straight faced.

My eyebrows shot up. “You serious?”

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