Page 74 of Sparrow's Grace

As if the red marks on my body didn’t make it plain I had fucked up, then that definitely would’ve.

“You made her ask you four or five times to let her pee in private? To allow her the relief of emptying her bladder that no doubt has had a baby jumping on it all night long as well as growing a human being inside her belly?”

“I fucked up. I just wouldn’t have had time to talk about this stuff today, not with everything going on at the clubhouse and the parties we got lined up this weekend.”

“Then, Zeke, that's when you hold off the conversation. I realize that whatever you needed to discuss was important to you. But when a pregnant woman is peeing, or eating, or sleeping, unless it’s a matter of life or death, then we don’t care.”

“I’m beginning to see that,” I muttered, upset that I made her upset, and then angry at myself for not listening to her.

I’ll make it up to her,” I said while looking out the back sliding door.

“You better. Because Zeke, there is nothing worse than having a pregnant woman mad at you. You hear me?”

“Yeah, Mackenzie, I hear you, sweetheart.”

And I really did.

What the hell was that man of mine thinking?

I asked him not once, not twice, nor three, or even four times. But no, I asked that man five freaking times to let me pee in private.

And he hadn't listened.

Therefore, I didn’t really feel bad when Nuclear Savannah came out to play. Not at all.

Sighing, I got dressed for the day, knowing I had about four jobs I was working on that needed to be done by the end of the week.

White short shorts. A flowy camo tee that showed off my baby bump and made me feel beautiful. My hair was still curled and looking good, so I didn’t bother with it.

A spritz of perfume, and deodorant, and then my butt was planted in my office chair.

Twenty minutes later, the door to my office was opened, and the smell of a sausage and gravy biscuit filled my nostrils.

The paper plate was sat down on the corner of my desk as well as a glass of orange juice.

And then, then, I felt the most tender of caresses against my forehead as he pressed his lips there. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen, Angel. I’ll make it up to you. Get your work done. I’ll be at the garage if you need me, you call.”

I didn’t say anything, just grabbed my glass of orange juice and took a sip.

Was I being a bitch by not saying anything? Probably. But damnit, I don’t fuss about him leaving in the middle of the night for the club. I don’t complain about spending our time there.

I don’t complain about him spending time with his brothers at all.

Nor do I complain when he leaves hisLittle Debbiewrappers around the house. Yes, the man eats healthy, but not when it comes toLittle Debbie’s.

I also don’t complain when he leaves the toilet seat up in the middle of the night and I’ve almost fallen into it ten times.

But when I ask for him to leave the bathroom so I can pee, I expect him to leave.

But… hell, I can’t be too much of a bitch to him, so that’s why before he’s out of my office that he made for me, I called out to his back, “Please be careful, Honey.”

I saw him freeze and then saw his head look over his shoulder and there was that blinding white smile I was addicted to.

Bastard.

Yes, because of that smile, I was already over my issue.

But he didn’t need to know that.

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