Page 5 of American Hellhound
“Just when I start to think you’re really sweet,” Ava said, eyeing her husband with feigned disgust. “You stoop to my dad’s level.”
“Baby.Fillette.” He put one massive hand on her shoulder and ducked his head so they were eye-to-eye. “He started it.”
A smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. “Trust me. He deserves every bit of it.”
Maggie cleared her throat to get their attention. “That’s great and all, kids – I’m real happy for you, Merc – but you can’t breathe a word to him until I tell him.”
Both of them winced in unison.
“Do you want to tell him here?” Ava offered.
Maggie shook her head. “No, he won’t want an audience.”
If she was honest with herself, she was growing more and more depressed by the prospect. These days, Ghost was a responsible man. And a loving one – he loved his children dearly. But he wasn’t tactful for shit. It was one of his more charming qualities.
So she knew he would love this new baby, and she knew he’d take care of it, and smother it, and make regrettable decisions on its behalf…but she really didn’t want to deal with the initial meltdown bound to happen when he found out that therewasa new baby.
“Can you film it?” Mercy asked.
Ava punched him again.
The growl of a motorcycle reached her ears and she sat up straighter, nervous all over again. “That’s him.”
Ava studied her as they listened to the Harley approach and pull into the driveway. “You can stay if you want the moral support,” she offered, the concern in her eyes belying her calm tone.
“That’s sweet, baby, but we’ll be fine. I wanna go home.”
Mercy went to let Ghost in via the mudroom, and he entered the house wearing what Maggie thought of as his President Face. The World On His Shoulders face that said he was going to spend a long night staring at the kitchen cabinets and nursing spiked coffee.
“I made some calls,” he was saying to Mercy as they walked into the room. “We should have a better feel for who we’re dealing with by tomorrow morning.”
“Anything to do in the meantime?” Mercy asked.
“Nah. Just keep an eye out.”
“Always do.”
Maggie realized she had clenched her hands together on the tabletop as Ghost drew closer, and she forced them to relax. She was confident that when his eyes came to her, she looked normal.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
When she hugged Ava on her way out, Ava whispered, “Call if you need to,” right in her ear. The role reversal hit Maggie hard – harder than it normally would have. Now it was the daughter offering comfort and refuge. The daughter who had doubts about a man’s ability to accept the consequences of his actions.
“I’ll be fine,” she whispered back, and gave her a smile she didn’t quite feel.
The crispness of the air outside was immediately soothing, bathing her too-hot face and neck in relief. She took a deep breath and willed her stomach to cooperate, at least until they were home. She had no doubt her nerves were adding to the morning sickness, and it was all one big cocktail of bad.
Ghost handed over her helmet when they reached the bike, the streetlamp catching at the worried look he threw her across the Harley. “What?” he asked, because even if she thought she’d been careful, he was so attuned to her that he knew something was off.
“Just tired, baby. Let’s get home.”
~*~
As it turned out, being on the bike seemed to help. It wasn’t the sort of thing thatshould, but maybe she’d spent so much of her life on the back of a Harley it had a naturally calming effect, no matter the circumstances.
Most nights, Ghost left his bike parked in the driveway, but tonight he swung off and went to punch in the code at the keypad to open the garage door. When he walked back to her, she saw the shadow of his .45 in his hand.
