Page 60 of Savior

“Clearly,” she agreed.

“One day, he roped Hercules into coming back to his bachelor pad for some ‘swordplay.’ When he pounced, Hercules grabbed one of his front legs and one of his hind legs and bent him backward, breaking the beast’s back. Hercules freed the women and placed Leo in the sky as a reminder to not show up to every party you’re invited to.”

Lauren’s mouth curved up into a smile. “That’s very good advice.”

“Look, Lauren, I—”

“Shhh… not yet,” she chided.

I brought my hand up over my mouth when she stepped into the light. My wife’s body had changed entirely in just five weeks.

The last time I saw her, our babies were just beginning to make their appearance known. Now, the swell of her belly extended out over her leggings, and the tits that had captivated me since our first meeting strained against the thin material of her tank top, waking my dick from his long winter’s nap.

“Not the time,” I hissed.

“What’s that?” Lauren asked, her brows wrinkling in confusion as she approached the bed of the truck.

“I said you look divine, darlin’. Like a motherfucking goddess. Do you need help?” I slid off the tailgate and paused in front of her. “Can I—is it alright if I help you up?”

She let out a soft exhale. “You shaved.”

I brought my hand up to my cheek as if just realizing it. “Yeah, Angel got me all squared away. Apparently, I was starting to look a little rough.”

“A little?” Her own hand came up to rest on my other cheek, gently stroking back and forth. “I’ve never seen you without a beard. It’s… different. And your hair is so short.”

Her fingernails grazed over my temple, leaving my dick no better than a dog fighting to get out of his cage.

I tentatively cupped her belly in one of my hands, watching her eyes for the slightest sign that I was making her uncomfortable. It might’ve been my babies inside, but I hadn’t held up my end of our vows.

It wasn’t about me or what I wanted anymore.

“You look so fucking good,” I murmured. “I always thought it was a bunch of bullshit when they’d say that pregnant women were glowing, but you really are, darlin’. Pregnancy looks amazing on you.”

Lauren’s lower lip quivered, and I instinctively took a step back, only for her to latch onto my wrist, tugging me closer. Her nostrils flared, and she blinked several times before whispering, “Don’t. Can we just pretend for half a second that we’re Jack and Charlotte?”

The aliases we’d given each other the night we met in Galveston. The wayward surfer and the art dealer. Two people who probably hadn’t lost a minute of sleep, worried about a war between two MCs, or whether or not their partner was going to overdose again.

“Come here.” I gently lifted her up onto the tailgate, letting my thumbs skim along the tight skin of her belly as I did. Once she was settled, I joined her. “Found any new artists I should know about?”

Her full lips parted on a sigh before curving up into a smirk. “You know the art world, completely fluid… forever changing.”

“Yeah, it’s the same way with the waves. You just never know what you’re gonna get out there.” We were talking about nothing, yet it felt like everything to me. I’d missed wasting time with her. “Lauren, I just want you to know—”

“You’ve been sober for thirty-five days,” she finished. “I know.”

I worked my jaw back and forth, fighting to recall the beginning of my speech. “I have a lot to make up for when it comes to us. I made you a promise—”

“Don’t,” Lauren warned again, shifting her upper body to face me. “Don’t do this right now. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then, why?” I studied her face. I’d expected some push-back, but not being shut down entirely. “I owe you an explanation. I need you to understand that you and these babies are my focus—”

Her hand came up between us. “Stop, Mike. You don’t owe me an explanation. I know how hard you’ve been working.”

This time, it was me interrupting to confess, “No, I lost my job, Lauren. At first, I wanted to blame it on the Sons, but lately, the more I think about it, the more I start to wonder if maybe they were right to drop me. I was a wreck over the Grey thing and wasn’t fit to wear a badge—”

“I’ve looked at your file, and their reasons for letting you go are entirely bogus, Tex. Someone wanted you gone, and when I think about how close they came to succeeding—” Her voice cut off in a squeak before she managed to compose herself. “They’ll pay for that.”

“Just a minute. You got ahold of my record? How in the fuck did you manage that? Do you know how dangerous—what if someone found out? You can’t put yourself at risk—” My pulse throbbed steadily in my throat.

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