Page 42 of Broken Pregnant Mate
“And what,” Veva asks, shifting in her chair and pointing at Ash, “exactly is it that you want, if it’s not for a man to baby you?”
I look to Ash, and I expect her to look embarrassed, sheepish, but she just sits up in her chair and says, “I want a man who isn’t afraid to touch me. Isn’t afraid to be a little rough with me. I’m not this delicate little flower—I’m a fully grown woman.”
While I understand what she’s saying, I don’t share the sentiment at all. After years of being treated roughly, I want to be caressed. Handled gently.
And that’s exactly what Aidan did.
I find the edge of the blanket and start to fiddle with it—anything so I have something to do with my hands, to keep my mind off the consistent replays of that night with him. A night I know I’ll never get again.
According to Aidan, the time for him to go up against Jerrod Blacklock is coming soon. Which means we won’t have to keep up this charade for much longer.
Actually, I’m not sure that we need to keep it up at all. Dorian and Kira, the rest of them—they might be confused if he admits he lied, but I don’t think they would oust him from the territory. I don’t think the situation is as dire as he makes it out to be in his head.
I think he’s not giving them enough credit. Especially with how quickly these women have folded me right into their circle.
“Well, Emaline? Is he?”
I blink, realizing they’ve been talking while I’m still stuck in my head. Swallowing, I look into each of their faces, trying to figure out what question I’m supposed to be answering.
Then, with the certainty I felt earlier, I know—is Aidan gentle? Part of me doesn’t want to tell them, but another part is desperate to share, to participate in this girlhood I feel like I’ve never had.
“Yeah,” I admit, which makes Ash let out a self-congratulatory noise. “But I like it,” I clarify, looking down at the blanket, focusing on my hands as I fiddle with the edge. “I…I’ve been with guys who were not so gentle with me. I like that Aidan treats me like a precious thing, you know?”
When I look up, the other women are staring at me, their faces soft. I clear my throat, look away from them again.
“Is that what you meant when you said the really fucked up shit started after that?” Kira asks.
“What’s the fucker’s name?” Veva asks, her face darkening. “We can find him. Cut off his dick. I bet the guys would help.”
I suck in a breath, unable to get air into my lungs suddenly. I’m not used to this feeling with anyone but Aidan, and I realize, after a second, that it’s camaraderie.
Waving my hand and trying to ignore the tears in my eyes, I say, “No—that’s okay. He’s not worth the effort. He was actually in the territory a little while ago. Bit of a lone wolf, he trades and deals, mostly. I just want to put him in my rearview, if I’m honest.”
“Cheers!” Ash says, leaning forward and lifting her glass up above the fire. As the rest of us follow suit, I feel like we’re completing some sort of ancient ritual together, something bonding us in friendship.
“Cheers,” Veva says, nodding and lifting her glass, too. “I’ll toast to that all night long.”
Chapter 19 - Aidan
We stay long enough at the Fields’ place that Emaline falls asleep in the car on the way home. Without thinking, I pick her up just like I did with Oliver, carrying her inside and laying her down in the bed. For a long moment, I stand next to her there, staring at her, wanting to climb in with her.
But I can’t bring myself to do it.
For all I know, she doesn’t want me here, wouldn’t want the inevitable touching that will happen if we’re in bed together. She looks so peaceful asleep, that little wrinkle between her eyebrows gone. I reach out and touch my thumb to the spot where it usually sits, then sigh and back up, forcing myself to return to the living room, where I sink down onto the couch and fall into a fitful sleep.
I’ve resolved to talk to her the moment I wake up, but I don’t wake to the gentle chirping of birds outside—I wake up to the sound of my phone vibrating incessantly on the coffee table.
“Hello?”
“Aidan.” It’s Oren. This is the first time he’s ever called me, and it takes my brain a second to catch up to the sound of his voice on the other end of the phone, understand what it means. “We have new information. We need you in Dorian’s office. Now.”
“Okay,” I mumble the word, sit up, and realize what he’s said. New information.
My fight with Jerrod Blacklock is here, and I haven’t even had a chance to talk to Emaline. I crack the door to the bedroom, looking in at her, realizing she’s still fast asleep. I don’t have anytime, and the last thing I want to do is wake her, scare her, then leave.
Instead, I move into the living room and write out a quick note, leaving it on the counter before I go.
Outside, the sun hasn’t even started to crest over the horizon. I lock the door behind me and peek into the general store. Brock—notorious for being an early riser—hasn’t even appeared in his shop yet. That means it’s far, far too early.
