Page 45 of Deep in Her Marrow

I really don’t know what this man has done to me. I swear I was normal when it came to sex. Now I’m like a freaking nympho who wants him any second of the day. Stupid, sexy, sweet biker turning me into a damn hooker.

“You okay, Sprite?” he chuckles while holding his coffee cup to his glorious mouth that I’ll have to abstain from for a few days, well besides to kiss. “You’re growling at your coffee.” His eyes are dancing over the rim of the cup as he takes a sip.

My eyes narrow at him. “I don’t like surprises,” I mutter petulantly. I’m being a grumpy baby, but sue me, my hormones are a mess and I’m in pain. I can be grumpy if I want to be, dammit.

“Yeah, Cadie, I’ve caught onto that.” His lips twitch, but at least he doesn’t full on smirk at me. I wouldn’t be liable for throwing my cup at him. I swear he knows what I’m thinking because his lips twitch again making me glare even more. Observant jerk.

“Why did you make me get up, shower, and get dressed?” I whine for all I’m worth. “I was happy and warm in the bed where I wanted to painfully die in peace.”

“You’re not gonna die.” He laughs fully this time. “And you took enough pain medicine to take down an elephant.” He eyes me curiously. “I’m not even sure how you’re actually sitting up and awake at this point.”

I wave my hand in the air dismissively, “I’ve grown a tolerance to pain meds over the years unfortunately.” Hopefully, he thinks it’s just from having my period for so many years. But considering how his cheek is twitching, I have a feeling he knows exactly why. It’s not like I can help it, broken ribs, foot, a few fingers, and some nasty slashes on my stomach and back tend to call for some sort of pain relief. Not that I’ll ever be going into how each of those happened.

I’ve spoken to my psychiatrist in-depth about each of those instances. Truthfully, I just want to put it all in my past. The more time that goes by, the more I just want to think of it as a horrible nightmare from which I’ve finally awoken.

The great thing about Marrow, well, one of the many, is he doesn’t pry. He doesn’t make me talk about something when it’s obvious I don’t want to discuss it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a few nightmares, which have been blissfully far and few between, but he will suggest making an appointment with my psychiatrist. He doesn’t force me to, he only gently suggests it because he knows it will help me. And I truly love him for that. I know he just wants what’s best for me but won’t force me to do anything if I’m not comfortable with it.

Well, unless it’s training with him and Jameson. I can’t seem to avoid that no matter how hard I try. And every freaking person I know is supportive of it. Even Draven is a damn traitor who actually lied to me about getting a smoothie. Well, he didn’t so much lie, as he didn’t tell me that we would be getting it at Reaper’s Den after my training session.

“Right,” he grumbles in response while clutching his mug tight enough to make me worry that it might crack.

I’m about to say something when the doorbell rings making me jump. I look at him in confusion as the anger from his features clear and a cheesy grin replaces it.

“Who’s here?” I ask, somewhat thankful that I’m showered and presentable. And considering this is the first few days I’ve had off since Kealy had the baby, I planned to lay around like a sloth, even before that bitch Flo decided to show her nasty ass.

“That would be your surprise.” He winks.

“Did you order me a vat of dark chocolate that I can lay in?” I ask hopefully.

He blinks at me a few times before frowning. “Why the fuck would you want to lay in chocolate?”

“So that I don’t have to get up to eat more. I can kind of just dunk my head under anytime I feel the endorphins running low.” I shrug. I mean, it sounds like a really good idea.

He eyes me seriously. “Sprite, we’re gonna have a long talk about your chocolate dependency real soon. That shit just ain’t normal.”

“There’s no such thing as a chocolate dependency, Jake,” I huff and roll my eyes while taking another sip of my coffee.

“Uh-huh,” he mutters before the doorbell goes off again. Shit! I forgot someone was there.

I sit and stare at him since he hasn’t moved. “Aren’t you going to get the door?” I mean rude much?

His lips twitch and he shakes his head. “Nah, it’s for you. Go on and get your cranky ass moving before they ring it again.”

I give him a sour look as I stand up but he pretends not to notice. Lying ass. He’s like a hawk and misses nothing. I grumble and moan the entire way to the door just because I can. Stupid cramps.

I swing the door open and stand here in stunned silence. This has to be some sort of mirage. My imagination must be playing tricks on me. There is absolutely no way I can be seeing the two people who are standing in the doorway.

“Oh, Cadie, my sweet baby girl,” my mother croons before bursting into tears and wrapping me in a fierce hug. My mind is still in shock, but my arms automatically wrap around my momma for the first time in years.

I don’t know how long we stand like this, hugging and crying ugly sobs, but it’s long enough for my father to get impatient. “All right, you’ve gotten your hug. It’s my turn. Give me my little girl already,” Dad says and even goes so far as to pry my mother off of me. She gives him an evil glare but he only has eyes for me.

“Hi, Daddy,” I squeak before rushing into his open arms.

He pulls me to him, and I can’t help but breathe in his scent. The smell of Old Spice and cigars, that he thinks my mom and I don’t know about, permeates the air around us. He smells like safety and love. It’s the best scent in the whole world and I wish I could bottle it up to keep forever.

After I’m finally able to compose myself, I look between my parents in awe and a smidgen of fear. “What are you guys doing here? How did you even find me?”

“That nice young man standing behind you thought we could all use a visit,” my dad says with no small amount of gratitude directed behind me.

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