Page 83 of With A Little Luck
I snort.
We both know he’s not the reason this is awkward. He strides out of the room and across the hall into his bedroom.
My eyes adjust slowly since it’s darker in here, likely because this room has the blinds closed and curtains covering the sides of the windows. If they were all the way closed, it would be dark as hell with only the light from the hallway to give illumination.
Ridge takes a seat on the edge of his bed, and King’s collar jingles as he follows us into the room, heaving like he just ran a marathon.
Not that I should judge.
I’d sound like him if I tried to jog anywhere these days.
Ridge palms the back of my head as I stretch up onto my knees, burying my face in his throat. “Well, if you didn’t like the last surprise, you’re going to hate what’s in the garage.”
My head shakes and more tears well in my eyes. “I loved it… I’m sorry.”
“You’re killing me here, sweetheart,” he says, soothing his other hand up and down my spine. “No more apologies. Please, for the love of God. I can’t do it. I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin every time you apologize.”
The overwhelming urge to apologize again—this time for making him uncomfortable—washes over me from nowhere. Instead of doing the exact thing he asked me not to, I cry harder, because apparently pregnancy hormones have turned me into someone I don’t recognize.
“The room didn’t upset you?”
I shake my head, sniffling.
“Got it,” Ridge says. “Then, you gotta let go of whatever it is you’re carrying around. No more apologizing. No more beating yourself up. Bad shit happens every day, and in the grand scheme of things, I’d say we got off pretty lucky.” He runs his fingers through my hair, holding me to his chest. “Yeah, it sucks. I’m dealing with my own anger and guilt, too, but at some point, we’ve both gotta leave that shit where it belongs—in the past. You get what I’m saying?”
I nod, clutching his back. “I just didn’t mean to hurt you or to make this giant mess…”
“We’ve already been over this, sweetheart,” he says in a tender tone. “It’s not all that messy. Truthfully, I’m grateful for Trigg’s psychopathic tendencies. Otherwise, things might have gone a lot differently.”
“So you would be open to being in a pack with Trigg and Hart?”
Ridge snorts. “I can understand Hartley. Trigg still baffles me, but I’m not judging.” He shrugs. “Then there’s that wholeno one in their right mind is going to separate a psychopath from their obsessionthing. That would be like me offering to help Briar escape… Easton would rain down hell.” He briefly mentioned Briar last night when he joked about how his boss kidnapped her, but it’s hard to conceptualize who they are since we’ve never met. “I’m starting to understand how Keir and Calder must feel dealing with East on a daily basis.” He chuckles, massaging my scalp. “But in all seriousness, I’m happy Hartley was around when I couldn’t be. As for Trigg… That’s your call. The omega chooses who they think will be a good fit for their pack.”
I snuggle even closer, kinda wishing we were cuddled up under a blanket, or even better, in the nest.
My instincts are still frazzled, but it’s a huge relief to hear him say the words. I hoped that’s what the courting gifts meant, but having verbal confirmation helps offset a lot of my stress.
“I thought about names last night,” he says out of the blue. “How about you? What’s on the top of your list?”
“Way to put me on the spot,” I mumble against his skin. “What if you hate them all?”
A booming laugh fills the air, and his chest vibrates against mine. “Then we’ll negotiate. If we still can’t find some common ground, we can each toss a couple into a hat and let fate decide.”
My nose wrinkles.
That’s very levelheaded, but my heart doesn’t like the idea of leaving it up to chance. It needs tofeelright, and I’m afraid something might not click until I meet her.
“Throughout my pregnancy, I’ve tried a few,” I admit.
“Oh yeah? Lay ’em on me.”
“Hadley, Lainey, and Journey, but none felt quite right.” I sniffle, wiggling my nose around to a place I haven’t corrupted with my scent.
“Those are all nice. It sounds like you’re gravitating toward something with a few syllables.”
“I also tried out Lake, Nova, Opal, and Dove,” I admit, smiling.
“And nothing fit?” He shrugs. “We’ve got time. I’ll order a baby name book, and we can scour it together.”
