Page 51 of Never Trust the Living (Battle Crows MC 7)

Just one more of everything, please.

“And that one time that we tried to get a cart full of groceries home on the back of the bike,” I continued. “We lost a bag of apples, and I made you turn around to go get them because we needed them for dinner.”

“They were road rashed as fuck,” he agreed. “But you made one hell of an apple pie that night.”

I swallowed hard as I said, “It was your birthday the next day. That was the day that Cannel had been home for a month. And you wanted to celebrate your day with her.”

His shoulders tensed. “You didn’t come.”

No, I hadn’t.

Mostly because Cannel hadn’t wanted me around, though she hadn’t really wanted anyone around, and I’d given her that freedom.

“She needed her family. Not some interloper,” I whispered.

His shoulders hunched, and I watched as his head dropped.

I frowned. “What?”

“That was our first mistake,” he announced. “We should’ve never treated you as anything but a permanent part of me. If I’m there, you’re welcome.”

I scoffed. “Your family doesn’t like me, remember? I wasn’t ever welcome. And they all thought I was weird, and they called me Dorcas, and I didn’t like being there.”

He said something quietly under his breath that I had a feeling was a vicious curse, and then said, “We’re going to fix this. This weekend. We’ll have a get together to celebrate the baby. Since we now know the sex, we’ll have one of those gender reveal parties.”

“Gender reveal parties are stupid,” I said, remembering a time when he would’ve agreed with me. “You remember how much shit you gave that friend of yours for having one? You hated it. He hated it. We all hated it.”

I’d never understood gender reveal parties.

Everyone else could have them, but I sure the fuck wouldn’t ever be having one.

At least, I hadn’t planned on it.

Until, apparently, now.

“I know.” Bram started to laugh. “I know. But it’s a good, happy, momentous occasion. We won’t do it big. We won’t even tell them that we’re having it. We’ll disguise it as a welcome home party, and not a gender reveal at all. They’ve all really missed you.”

I barely contained my scoff.

There was no way in hell that they missed me.

In fact, they probably celebrated the months that I’d been gone.

“You remember last Christmas how not a single person got me a Christmas gift?” I asked. “Not even your parents got me one.”

I felt him sigh.

“What’s with the trip down memory lane?” he grumbled. “Trying to remind yourself why you left in the first place? God, sometimes I hate my family.” He hesitated. “Sometimes I hate myself.”

I ignored him.

My belly grumbled, and that was his cue to take me to get a cupcake.

Even though we both knew it likely wouldn’t stay down.

But it was the thought that counted, right?

I curled into him more, and when the motor roared to life, I answered his earlier question.

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