Page 58 of Love Bitters

Wes's hand lands on my shoulder, and I reach behind me so he can take mine instead. We're pulling up into an expensive-looking gym's parking lot just in time to see Thatcher's form waltz through the front door. At least Murph knows him well enough that we don't have to go on a man hunt tonight.

"Do you think there's gonna be trouble?" Wes asks Murph.

The latter shrugs, replying, "Let's all hope not, because I wasn't about to come over here without packing."

He pats the side of his breastbone where his gun holster sits when he wears it. Fear seems to suck the life out of my body for a second, hoping it doesn't come to that. Not even for my safety either. I'm sure one of them will get me and the baby out, but if one of them ends up hurt, I'll never forgive myself.

We walk inside together, and I immediately notice we have the attention of everyone in the large space. There are a few sketchy-looking guys mixed in with the ones who look like they're just trying to get their workout on. The only ones who seem like they might give us any problem at all are a small group gathered in the corner. A tall Asian guy is on one of the benches with his head tilted back against the wall, obviously trying to stop a nosebleed. Out of the four or five of them over there, the only one that looks like he's ready to start trouble is a thick dude who looks like a stand-by cast member of Jersey Shore. He glares us down as Murph leads us to the office we can see Thatch standing in.

With the door wide open, there's no missing Thatcher's voice when it rings out hard as steel. "I'm out, Vinny. For good this time."

"You're out when I say you're out," a voice threatens menacingly.

"I'm not fucking around," Thatcher yells. "I've got a kid on the way and have to do shit right for it."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have come begging, wanting back in," the voice says just as Thatch moves toward the door. "I own-"

His words cut off sharply as we lock eyes through the glass. A quick downward flick of his eyes to my belly and then back up has him standing up behind his desk, and I watch Thatcher's back tenses as if he's preparing for a physical fight. The man named Vinny steps right around Thatch, walking out of his office to come stand in front of us. I get a good read on the surprise then terror written across Thatch's face as he follows the man's progression to find us waiting on him.

"You must be the woman who managed to tame the beast," Vinny says, sticking out a hand.I take it so as to not be rude, and he gives it a soft shake. "Never thought I'd see the day when my best fighter would finally settle down, yet here it is."

He flicks his eyes to Thatch then back to me, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "You're a lot prettier than I thought he'd ever land."

"Thanks," I tell him out of politeness.

He nods once and says, "Go ahead and get on out of here. Come see me if you ever need anything. You're always welcome back."

With the way he doesn't break eye contact, I get a feeling the first offer is for me, but the latter is definitely for Thatcher. It's stupid to push buttons, and I don't know why I say it, but before I've consciouslythought about it, I inform him, "Thatcher won't be back. Ever."

A glimmer of respect crosses his features before it's gone again, and he's nodding to head back into his office. Once we're back out in fresh air that doesn't smell of sweaty bodies and blood, I let out a bone-deep sigh. We may have stepped in to help, but that doesn't mean all is well. Not yet at least. Wes rides with Thatcher on the way home, and I don't argue. I'm glad he's not riding alone. Seems like there's been enough of that lately. Murph's body language on the ride says he's both relieved and exhausted, so I don't make him talk to me. I simply crank up the music a little and mingle my fingers with his.

When we get home, my heart sinks a little because Thatch goes right to his room and shuts the door. Ollie and Evan are waiting on us and stop Murph practically in the doorway to have him explain what happened, but I bypass them all and head back to the comfort of Wes's room where I was before. This day has seriously taken a toll on my nerves, and I can't decide whether I want to sleep for the next seventy-two hours or have sex with all five of my guys then sleep for that long.

It isn't long before Wes finds me perched on the side of his bed. Rolling his armless computer chair over so that he can straddle it in front of me, his hands begin a slow rub up and down the outsides of my thighs.

"You okay, Im?" he asks.

At my nod, he grins. "May not be the right time, but the way you stood up to big bad Vinny like that was totally hot."

"Was it?" I smile, wiggling my eyebrows at him.

"Damn right it was," he admits. "I think you even impressed the man enough for him to want to keep you for himself."

I want to yell yeah right. Even before the baby, I'd have never been that man's type. Fortunately, it's not that man who's captured my heart, nor do I feel the need to impress him.

Instead, I ask, "Ever been given a strip tease by a pregnant woman?"

He doesn't even laugh at the suggestion. Just stands up, scoots the chair to the middle of the room, and sits back down before replying, "Not yet, but I feel like it's my lucky day."

Grinning, I get up to grab his phone off his desk and turn on a song that I used to love to dance to. I do a couple shimmies with my hips and have to swallow my ridiculous giggles, knowing I must look absolutely ridiculous with my belly poking out in front of me while I'm trying to be sexy. I'm a little worried my humor is going to rub off on him, having the opposite effect of what I'm attempting. On the contrary, Wes's eyes make a trail from my now naked feet to the skin visible on my legs then up to my belly, landing lastly on my breasts. I can't really say I blame him either. I've had to go up an entire cup size in the past month.

Stepping between his legs, I've just spun my back to him for help with my dress’s zipper when there's a soft knock on the door. Thatch steps inside, closing the door behind him without waiting for us to invite him in.

Wes's hands come up to rest on my hips as Thatch freezes where he stands. He doesn't look contrite in the least despite, knowing he interrupted us. The silence eats away at the minutes of expectant silence before he finally comes over, only to drop to his knees in front of us. Burying his face into my belly, he wraps his arms around my waist right above Wes's.

"I'm sorry, Im," he murmurs. "I went a little crazy after you left and lost myself for a while. I shouldn't have gone back. I was just so angry at the world when you weren't around. It was so stupid. I was stupid. I could apologize a million times, and it still wouldn't be enough to make up for you having to speak to Vinny like you did. He can be a dangerous man. We got really lucky tonight."

"Just took a little attention from our girl to bring the mean man to his knees," Wes brags. "No pun intended. You know, since you're on your knees and all."

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