Page 41 of Love Bitters

Leaning down to get his face as close as possible to the portion of my belly that’s still showing, he quietly murmurs something that none of us can hear. To be honest, I’m not sure I want to since it’d probably just make me start crying all over again. When he’s finished, he announces he’ll be back soon before making a show of flouncing out the door.

Evan wraps his other arm around me, tucking my body tight against him as he admits, “I’ve missed you, kitten, but I’ve got to rein him in, or he won’t be back for hours.”

A sigh slips into his shirt from between my parted lips, and he kisses my forehead before quickly following after Ollie. Not entirely ready for the other two confrontations waiting for me, I lift my gaze to hazel eyes. Wes shoots me a blinding smile and we end up meeting each other halfway for the two steps we were apart. Before I can stop him, his arms slide underneath mine, and he picks me up and spins us around.

It makes my stomach clench hard, risking an embarrassing vomit situation. “Ok,” I tell him with closed eyes as my feet touch the floor again, “we can’t do that again for a while, or I might puke all over you.”

All three of them have the audacity to laugh, seemingly thinking it’s a joke.

“I’ll spin you just to watch you do it,” Thatcher offers, sounding more like his old self for the first time, and the sound makes me almost giddy. So much so that I encourage his teasing with a look over my shoulder.

Wes doesn’t allow my attention to stray very far, using a finger to direct my chin back around to face him before pressing his mouth to mine. This isn’t one of those sweet, glad to have you back, kind of kisses like Ollie’s was. Wes, easily one of the sweetest men I’ve ever known, the one who came back for me after all this time and never gave up, kisses me like it’s the first time all over again. Hesitant at first then taking charge, letting those soft lips part and coercing mine to do the same. It could be a thirty second kiss, but it feels so much longer than that. I love the way he tastes; even after all this time, it’s never changed. Running my hands across his back over the material of his shirt has him tucking me so much closer to his body.

Somehow, he finds the strength I don’t have and pulls away, grinning against my lips. “Some birth control, huh?”

I chuckle through my reply. “Yeah, I was pretty pissed at first, not going to lie. I’ve come to terms with it now, though. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

One of the others stands from the couch, but it isn’t until Wes spins me to face Murphy that I realize it was him. Now caught between the two of them, my mind does a thirsty dive right back into the gutter.

“We don’t go through the hard shit alone,” Murphy says, forcing my brain into doing a full one eighty. “We are a family, and we take care of each other. Next time you feel like running away from us, please don’t. Talk to us. If one of us doesn’t understand, you still have the other four for backup.”

I chuckle, and he drops his gaze to my now covered stomach. Sometime during kissing Wes, I must’ve dropped my blouse back down.

“Can I feel?” Murphy asks.

“Of course you can,” I nearly whisper, the threat of tears prickling at my eyes again. After he sits on the footstool for the chair, I stand between his open knees before lifting my blouse back up and baring my belly for him. His hands come up and hover for a moment before actually touching my skin. That slight hesitation speaks louder than words at his nervousness. Placing my hands over his, I show him where I’ve felt movement so far.

“If I’m lying on my back, you’ll be able to see the little moves. I’ve watched videos and stuff. When it gets to the end, it’ll look like I should be part of Alien or something. It’s really weird.” I laugh while explaining, thinking back to my initial surprise the first time watching.

Wes presses against my back again, covering both my hands with his as he asks, “Will you show us later?”

Obviously, he mistook my explanation as something they’d be able to see now, but I don’t have the heart to correct him just yet. Everyone seems happy enough for the moment. All except Thatcher that is. He still sits stony faced as hell with his arms folded across his chest on the farthest end of the couch. Needing to go to him but not wanting Murphy to lose out on his moment, I lean down to press a soft kiss against his lips. The position pushes my ass back into Wes a little, and I swear I can feel him getting hard beneath those designer jeans. What I’d really like to do is wiggle a bit to experience the feeling of him grabbing my hips, but I play it safe since we’re all still skating on thin ice.

Moving to Thatcher, I say the only thing that might make any kind of difference. “I’m sorry.”

His expression cracks like an egg as he drops the tight hold he has on himself. When his arms open, I don’t hesitate to straddle him on the couch so he can fold me up in them. My work dress strains a bit around my thighs, so I hike it up a few inches before settling into his lap, a sigh of pure contentment releasing from my lungs. Things may not be exactly the way that they were before and may never be again, but at least for this point in time the secret is out, and I have them all back.

As if mirroring my thoughts, he murmurs, “Don’t ever run away from me again, little squirrel. I don’t like it.” There’s no tremor in is voice, but it’s still laced with a sadness that may take a while to erase.

“I won’t,” I promise, reaching up to place a kiss to the side of his neck. Everything is out in the open now. There’s no going back.

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