Used by Marlee Wray

Chapter 12

Laurel

Something’s wrong.

When the bodyguard drops me off, Connor McCann meets me at the front door and takes my small suitcase, which of course would not happen if Trick were in the house himself. Have the police got him? Or is he on an errand for these guys? And, if so, how dangerous is it?

“Where is he? Is Trick all right?”

“Yeah, he’s downstairs. Anvil will bring him up in a minute. He had an accident, but he’s okay.”

All the blood drains from my head, and it swims. The suitcase drops, and C grabs me to keep me from sinking to the floor. Without a word, he picks me up and carries me to a couch.

“I’m okay. Really, I’m okay. Let me see him.” I try to get up, but C’s strong hand on my shoulder prevents it.

“Hey,” he says gently but firmly. “You are gonna see him in about ten minutes. Until then, lie back and relax.”

I push his hand. “Let me sit up at least. Please. I don’t normally faint. It’s just the preg—never mind.”

Removing his hand, he lets me right myself.

“What happened?”

C pulls an ottoman over and sits on it. His knees are nearly touching mine, and I’m pretty sure he’s sitting close so if I try to jump up, he’ll be able to prevent it.

“Your boyfriend shot him,” he says in a low voice, peering at my face.

“What?” I can’t comprehend what he’s saying. “Trick is—he’s the only one… since the night of the poker game. There’s no one else. Did Scott say that? That a boyfriend of mine…? And he’s been shot? How bad is it?” Tears sting my eyes, and I look away. “Tell me what happened.”

“Milt Schager. He’s your boyfriend, right?”

My head jerks back to stare at him.

“You were part of the sting against Trick that Schager organized. And he knows your family, your little sister?”

My face burns. “We broke up months and months ago. And I didn’t know the sting was against Trick. I was told you guys were engaged in human trafficking. And if I would go to a game and help by capturing whatever was said, it would help my sister who was in trouble. I thought it was the right thing to do for a lot of reasons. But when Trick was the one there, I couldn’t go through with it.”

“You’re in contact with Schager though. Talking to him and the FBI still?”

Exhaling heavily, I shake my head. A part of me wants to tell Connor to go fuck himself, but I know he has good reasons to be suspicious of me. For Trick’s sake, I want to answer his questions, so maybe he’ll trust me a little more and Trick won’t feel caught in the middle.

“Haven’t spoken to him. Milt tried to reach me twice and left voicemails for me to call him back, but I didn’t either time.”

“You talked to Trick tonight after weeks of not talking to him. And right when he’s distracted by your call, Schager tries to kill him.”

“We weren’t plotting against Trick. God, I wouldn’t. Milt’s under investigation, and Trick’s advice to my sister is what started it. I think Milt was trying to call me to warn me or coach me on what to say to the investigators. And then after I met with FBI investigators, I think he wanted to know about the interview. It turns out the poker game operation wasn’t conducted properly. And the trafficking picture he showed me was from another investigation entirely, from four years ago. There were a lot of lies. He trapped my sister so he’d be able to convince me to help him. Then he waited a lot of hours to report that Trick had taken an informant. Anything could have happened to me. My welfare obviously wasn’t his main concern. He is not my friend, let alone my boyfriend.”

“Some of that’s true.”

“It’s all true.”

“The rest we have your word for. Could be you broke things off. Or could be you’re still undercover for the FBI.”

“They don’t send civilians undercover. The FBI told me they would never have sent someone like me, who hadn’t seen Trick in years, into a situation like that.”

“It’s pretty hard for me to believe Schager didn’t tell you Trick would be at the poker game. What if you’d walked out? Or been rattled? Trick would’ve noticed. He notices everything.”

“I don’t know what Milt was thinking.”

Connor leans forward, speaking very softly. “A few months ago, I would’ve said there’s no one alive that could put one over on Trick for long, but you’re not just anyone to him, are you? I’ll tell you this. If you betray him or any of us again, I’ll deal with you myself and you will not like what happens.”

My heart hammers in my chest, and I feel faint again.

A commotion causes us to turn.

“Hang on,” Trick says. “That pill’s hitting me.” Trick’s shirtless, with a sheen of sweat on his chest. His left arm’s wrapped with an ace bandage.

Anvil’s got a hand on Trick’s right arm, helping to hold him up. “That’s what you get for snorting it like a junkie.”

Trick sees us and immediately straightens up. “Hey, you’re here.” He smiles, then his gaze cuts to Connor and back to my face. “What the fuck’s goin’ on?” Trick moves quicker than he looks capable of doing.

Connor shoots to his feet and takes a step away from me, then stands his ground. “Just talkin’. You want her in the house, on tonight of all nights, I have to make sure she knows she better be trustworthy.”

Trick’s expression hardens, and he stalks right up to Connor. A second later, Trick leans forward and then Connor’s gun is in Trick’s hand and pointed at its former owner.

“Back up, C.”

“You can barely stand. Give me that fuckin’ gun.”

Trick’s sweating, but his voice is steady. “Bud vase. Eleven o’clock.” Trick’s arm moves a few degrees. The gun discharges with a cracking sound, and a small crystal vase explodes into pieces.

I jerk, sucking in a breath.

In the second it takes me to gasp, the gun is pointed once again at Connor.

Connor holds out a hand, but not at Trick. He’s looking behind him. “Anvil, no.”

My eyes turn to see Anvil Stroviak holding a gun that’s pointed at Trick’s back.

“I’ll shoot him in the leg to put him down. Or he could drop that gun. Hear me, Trick? Drop that weapon.”

I rise at the same time I see movement from the doorway.

A steely female voice says, “Sasha, don’t you dare.”

“Stop walking. Raven, I mean it,” Anvil barks.

She ignores him, and we reach Trick at the same time.

“Hey, friend.” Rachel Palermo speaks softly and gently. “We just patched up all the holes in our boat. Don’t make more, okay?”

Trick doesn’t speak to us. His gaze is on Connor McCann. “I saw the look on her face, C. Who the fuck do you think you are, threatening my wife?”

“She’s not your wife yet. She’s not even wearing the ring you got her. And I’ve got cause to question her. As you know.”

Trick’s breathing hard, and his raised left arm’s shaking. “Step away, Rachel. Take Laurelyn with you to another room. ‘Vil, if I turn my head and your gun is pointed this way with them standing near me, I will put you on the ground, man.”

“Anvil’s gun is down. Give me that one,” C says, holding out a hand.

“Let’s talk first. Rachel made a mistake. Anvil took care of settling up with her. When Zoe gets in trouble, you decide what happens to her. My wife is my business. She will never hurt this crue. I will see to that. That’s on me. Not you.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. You’re in this blind, and you can’t take what an FBI informant says—”

“I’m not in it blind! I have access to her devices, her house, and her car. I do a data dump on her phone every day. I see every keystroke on her computer. There’s a bug in the apartment, and we’ve got a bodyguard watching her every move. I read everything she types, hear everything she says, know everywhere she goes and everyone she sees.”

Connor’s eyes widen, and I stiffen.

Trick’s been spying on me? In every way possible? My God. I agonized over whether to reach out because I wasn’t sure whether he wanted some space. Meanwhile, there was no space between us. Zero.

“Yeah, C. Who the fuck do you think you’re dealing with? I’m the analyst of this operation. I’m on the dark web. I hire our hackers.”

“You didn’t say—all you said was you knew she could be trusted.”

“You asked if I was sure. I said one hundred percent. When do I say a hundred percent on anything I haven’t seen with my own eyes? Fucking never and you know it. Or you should.” Trick shakes his head and drops his left arm. His voice is lower and frustrated when he speaks again. “You should fucking know me. When have I ever not had your back?” Trick blows out a breath through pursed lips. He flips something on the gun and lets it swing on his finger so it’s pointing at the floor. Then he extends his arm for Connor to take the weapon, which he does.

“Laurel made a mistake. She gets a pass on one mistake, just like Rachel did,” Trick says, his voice grave. “And do not ever talk to her like that again.” Trick sounds winded and sways slightly.

Connor tosses the gun away and grabs Trick in a half hug to keep him from falling. Guiding him to the ottoman, Connor shakes his head. “All right, I heard you.”

Trick’s next words are slurred. “I love you like a fucking brother. Do not make me kill you, C. How could I live with that?”

“No one’s killing anyone. Your girl’s safe. Everyone’s all right. ‘Vil, get over here. Let’s get him to a bed.”

“No, don’t move me. I’ll be sick.” Trick puts a hand against Connor’s chest. “I gotta lie down here. Don’t get me sick and embarrass me in front of my wife. I promised…” His breathing is ragged as the two men get him on the couch.

“Get off, C. Leave me alone.” Trick’s right arm falls across his face, covering his eyes. “Laurelyn, where are you?”

Moving silently, I brush away tears and bend down next to him. I kiss him gently and squeeze his forearm, deciding that maybe being spied on isn’t a terrible thing since it seems to have reassured Connor McCann. Trick obviously understands what needs to happen to keep everyone protected.

My voice is a whisper. “I’m here.”

“Got shot. I’ll take you home soon, just need a little minute.”

“I’m fine. Just rest.”

“Did Kath tell you what Father Francis said to me? Or what we call him?” He chuckles. “GOG. God’s original gangster.”

“Trick,” Anvil says. “You’re wasted. Shut up.”

“Are you still here, you goddamned Goliath? Get the fuck out, ‘Vil. Who was with you in Boston when they were hunting Rachel? Who went after Leone with you when he took her? You threaten to shoot me in the back? Fucking Judas.”

When Anvil speaks his tone is firm but mild. “Rabid dogs get what they get. Shooting up the house? The fuck’s wrong with you?”

Without opening his eyes, Trick raises his middle finger in the direction of Anvil’s voice. “I’m gonna send you a hundred—no, a thousand memes a day. I’m gonna get a guy to build an app. Your phone’s gonna buzz like a vibrator with no off switch.”

Rachel hands me a cold cloth and points at Trick’s forehead.

I set it on his face, and his expression becomes less severe.

Rachel waves at me and leaves. I’m sorry to see her go. I know she’s not my ally exactly, but her quiet resolve was a key factor when it mattered most. Anvil goes to the doorway and stands just inside it, his arms folded across his chest, like a sentry keeping watch.

C raises Trick up by the shoulders and nods for me to sit. I do and when he lowers him, Trick’s head is on my lap. Trick breathes with his mouth open and falls asleep.

C sits on the ottoman, watching him. “When he wakes up, if he thinks you wanna leave, it’ll be hard to keep him here. But he shouldn’t go home like this. I don’t know what kind of drugs he’s got stashed in his place. Even if he’s got nothing on hand, he knows every dealer in the city. With one text he can have enough product to put down an army.” C draws in a breath and puts a hand on Trick’s chest like he’s checking his breathing, then removes it. “He might be fine. But if he’s not, you won’t be able to handle him on your own. I’m sure sweet talk from you would carry some weight, but he’ll never take orders from a girl. He’s not wired like that.”

Of course I know Connor’s right. I’ve seen firsthand how Trick reacts when I try to tell him what to do.

“And if he starts using for pain, he could lose track and overdose. He stopped breathing once.” C grimaces, the crease between his brows deep and pained. “Almost lost him. Came close.” C’s eyes lift and meet mine. “I know he’s yours now, but he’s ours too. Work with me to keep him here, so we can help you if it comes to that.”

I nod.

“Good girl,” C whispers, then stands.

I look back down at Trick’s face. It’s slack and beautiful. “How bad is his arm?”

“Not bad. Bled some, but nothing dangerous. He’s dizzy because he was pretty drunk and then got shot and then snorted a pain pill. When he sleeps it off, he’ll be better. Except for the pain. I know his arm’s killing him; he’d never have used in front of ‘Vil otherwise.”

Then the men leave me alone with him, and with no idea what to say or do when he wakes up.

* * *

Trick

My arm throbs like there’s a heart in my bicep. ‘Vil wrapped the Ace bandage tight to keep it from bleeding, but the arm must’ve swelled because my fingers are numb from the bandage’s constriction. Fumbling with the metal fasteners, I get them unhooked from the fabric and shake my arm until the Ace is slack. The pain’s immediately better. Opening and closing my fist restores normal feeling to my fingers.

It’s dark, but the back of my head against her leg and her soft breath tells me Laurel is on the couch with me. As my eyes adjust, I sit up and frown. She’s pregnant. She should be sleeping in a bed. The left arm’s not up to carrying her, but it’s not busted, so the fucker should work well enough to at least rearrange her.

I stand, putting her legs up and partially lifting her to get her centered enough so her head’s on the cushions. I try to disturb her as little as possible, but Laurel stirs as I move her. When she’s lying down, I wait to see if she’ll wake up. If so, I’ll send her into a guest room. She settles back into full sleep, so I cover her with the blanket.

In the kitchen, ‘Vil’s stretched out in a chair with his feet on the bottom step of a step ladder the girls use. When I enter he’s watching something on an iPad, but he sets the device on the table when he sees me. I don’t ask what he’s doing up because I can guess. He and C are taking shifts to keep an eye on me.

Opening the pantry, I spin the shelf of extra supplies. I open an ibuprofen bottle and shake four pills into my palm. This shit usually does fuck all for real pain when I have it, but the arm’s a flesh wound, so eight hundred milligrams will hopefully do something. I add a couple of extra-strength Tylenols for good measure.

Heating a couple of flour tortillas on the gas burners, I blow out the parts that catch fire. After buttering the tortillas, I roll them up and eat them. I should have some meat too for iron since I bled, but it’ll keep. Washing my hands, I think about whether I can go without a hit of Jack and still get back to sleep. The arm hurts, but I think I can take it. I’m still buzzed from earlier.

“When’d you marry her?”

“Haven’t yet.”

I don’t go into my strategy by telling him that I want her to hear me call her my wife over and over until it feels like a forgone conclusion, and that I want the crue to hear it too so they understand her place in my life, which is not temporary.

Anvil goes back to watching a show. “We’re upstairs. You use the room by the front door.”

I don’t answer as I walk out. Everyone’s in the house to make it tougher for the police or feds to accost us. In the basement while working on my arm, Anvil told me that they weren’t near the Palermo mansion, so whatever went down and whether one of the bodies belongs to Enzo remains to be seen. Still, plenty of people, especially the Coins cops, will think the murders and fire are C Crue’s work.

Being in the stronghold together is a position of strength for us, but I’m not sure if my crue and my girl will get along well enough for this to work. I’m heading to the media room when I bump into Laurelyn.

“Hey,” she says with a small smile.

Thank God she’s not looking at me like I’m on death’s door and she needs to baby me. I couldn’t take that right now.

My right arm swings around her, pressing against her upper back to bring her closer. I kiss her, long and deep. When her tongue strokes mine, my cock gets hard. My head ticks through positions I can fuck her in that won’t require my left arm to do much, ones that won’t put her on top either since I don’t want her there.

Taking her hand, I lead her to the bedroom by the front door. There’s a flower-decorated basket of toiletries and wound care shit on the bed. Zoe. I toss it into the corner.

“Get undressed.”

I sit on the edge of the bed and enjoy the show. She’s silent and there’s no flourish to her movements, but she doesn’t need it. I’ve been thinking about her body day and night. Just her lack of hesitation in doing what I tell her and the eye contact she makes as she strips are enough of an aphrodisiac to have my cock close to firing.

My gaze gets hung up on her big, round breasts. Can’t see how those are gonna swell more, but I look forward to it. My eyes finally drop to her stomach, which is still flat. Kind of unhappy about that, but also not, since it means a little more time to play aggressive games. She slides her underwear off, and unlike so many of the women I was with casually there’s no elaborate waxing. The landscape’s all natural, just the way it was when she was a pretty eighteen-year-old schoolgirl I fingered and tongue-fucked. My balls ache. This girl features in my fantasies and has for years. It’s good to be in the same bedroom with her again.

Standing, I shove a hand in my pocket and retrieve the ring. Holding it out, my eyes challenge hers to defy me about putting it on. Laurel’s breathing is deep as she takes it and slips it on her finger.

“Good girl.” I kiss her, my left hand on her hip and the right squeezing her breast. I’ve got nipple clamps in a box in my duffle that I’m looking forward to using on her later. “Get on the bed on your hands and knees.”

Her eyes look up at my face through her lashes, and I draw in a breath, feeling a sense of urgency that doesn’t bode well for spending a long time savoring our reunion.

Laurel crawls on the bed and waits, one upturned foot resting on the other.

“Put your forearms on the bed, and rest your forehead on them.”

Her breath comes out in a rush, and she hesitates.

“Do that now,” I press in a low voice.

When she obeys, I know she’s decided to behave without arguing or pushing back. Turns out getting shot is one of those clouds with a silver lining.

Bracing myself, I grab my shirt with both hands and pull it over my head. Left arm complains, but not so loudly that I can’t take it. The rest comes off easily. I want to put my mouth on her pussy until she’s begging to be fucked, but I’d need a more functional left arm to balance for that. Instead, I get on the bed behind her and separate her feet, so I can kneel between her smooth, toned legs.

She shivers. Putting my hand on the silky skin in the hollow of her back, I stroke it with my thumb.

“Arch your back and raise your ass.”

Shuddering, she does it. The position just doesn’t get any more submissive, and we both know it. Putting my hand between her legs, I dip fingers into her slit. Wet, the way she always is for me. My cock’s so fucking hard I could hammer dents out of a car with it. My fingers find her clit and tease.

Her fists grip the sheets and her hips circle impatiently. Good. I push my cock into her slippery clutch.

“Put a hand between your legs. You’re going to rub your clit while I fuck you. I wanna feel you come on my cock.”

Her exhalation of breath is harsh, and her body trembles as she reaches back.

Starting slow is required, so I don’t just come. Her soft walls hug my shaft as I slide in until I’m balls deep. I groan softly, all the thoughts in my head melting away until Laurelyn’s all that’s left.

“Nothing feels better than this. Not a fucking thing.”

I’m still at first, savoring the way she pulses around me. She circles her hips, pressing her gorgeous ass against my groin, encouraging me to use her body the way nature intended. My fingers tighten on her hip, and I thrust in and out.

The more she gasps and spasms around me, the better it feels. I get rough enough for her to feel me against her cervix and that does it for her. She comes, breathing hard and clenching my cock in a way that convinces me she’s my reward for surviving the night.

I stroke in and out like I’ve got all the time in the world. My balls are locked and loaded, ready to fire, but I hold back, not ready. Not yet. I stroke the silky skin of her back. Then the fingers of my right hand cup her ass and squeeze hard enough to make her jerk in surprise. I don’t need to say a word to remind her all the ways she belongs to me. Or of what happens if she’s a bad little girl.

My right hand grips the front of her thigh to anchor her so I can fuck her hard and deep, until my heart’s hammering and my muscles strain against my bones. Tipping my head back, I finish, filling her up with my seed. Catching my breath, I can’t help but marvel. How can every damn time feel as good as the first?

I’m slow to pull out as I realize that coming inside Laurelyn is better than Vicodin. At the moment, my arm doesn’t hurt at all.

I slap her ass for good measure before dropping onto my back on the mattress. She moves so she’s sitting on the bed, one leg bent, the other outstretched. Leaning over me, she kisses me and I kiss her back, putting a hand on the back of her neck.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she whispers against my lips. “You’re good at being in charge of our sex life.”

I chuckle. “How hard is it to not ask about my arm?”

“Very.” She grins. “But if you can concentrate on having sex and don’t pass out during it, I think you’re fine.” Laurel’s fingers push the hair back from my temple. “Could I see your arm?”

“Knock yourself out. Zoe’s got scissors in the basket.”

When she gets up, she picks up her underwear.

“No, leave those on the floor.”

She looks at me with furrowed brows. “Really?”

“Really.”

Dropping them, she shrugs and goes to the basket. She brings the entire thing to the bed, which isn’t necessary, but I’ll let her play. The gauze is dry, so unless the bleeding starts when she removes it, there’s no need to cover the wounds again for now.

Cutting the dressing carefully, she pulls the wrap away. I raise my arm, the soreness making itself known again, but nowhere near as bad as it was when I woke. Meds are doing something at least.

There’s a scab over the hole in my bicep. I’m lucky the bullet didn’t hit the bone and break it. And even luckier I moved enough for the bullet to miss its intended target, the pump in my chest.

She looks at the linear wound on the far side of my arm that’s been closed with a couple of medical-grade staples.

“Why did Anvil only staple one side? And why is the back wound a perfectly straight thin line?”

“The bullet was under the skin. He took it out.”

She sucks in a breath, her eyes widening. “By cutting you?”

I smirk. “Osmosis wasn’t working, so yeah.”

“Jesus. What did he use?”

“You sure you wanna know?”

She pauses, which is a credit to her intelligence. Always smart. I would never have been so attracted to her if she wasn’t, I guess. I’ve been with a lot of little bubble-headed kitties. Always a game to see how little conversation I can get away with. Zero being the goal. Glad that’s all over.

Her expression becomes determined. “Yeah, tell me everything he did.”

“Iodine solution first. Sterile razor blade. Bullet popped right out. Then washed the wounds with some sterile saline solution and closed the slice with a surgeon’s stapler. Easy as that.”

“Local anesthetic?”

“Nope.”

She winces.

“‘Vil was fast. By the time I felt it, the cut was done. Popping the bullet out hurt, but the real pain is on the other side where the bullet went through.”

“Pain’s not as bad now?”

Shaking my head, I study her face. She’s beautiful, but it’s the focus of her translucent green eyes on me that really does it for me.

“Where’s the bullet?”

“Safe. Locked up, in case we ever need it.”

She nods. “Won’t the police be angry you left the scene? And what happened to Milt? He ran away?”

“If things go as planned, I’ll never have to admit to being there. As for Schager, he didn’t make it.”

Her teeth catch her lip, and she looks away. “Did he shoot you in self-defense?”

“No. It was a role reversal. I came after him with lawyers and feds. He came after me with a gun, dressed in black with a ski mask on. I guess he thought hitting me tonight would look like retaliation from the Palermos. It was a good plan. And he almost got lucky. I was really drunk when I came down to the garage.”

“But you’re here, and he’s dead.”

“Well, Schager and I are of the same mind about a lot of things. I figured a Palermo guy could decide to strike out, so I was watching close. I’ve had a lot of practice looking for people who are gunning for me. It’s been my life for a long time.” Silence sits for a moment. “If I was a better man, I’d move you somewhere safe and never even visit. Keep my kid a secret and send you money no one could trace.” Putting my right arm behind my head, I watch her. “Want me to work on being a better man where you’re concerned?”

“You mean do I want you to find me somewhere far away to live?”

I nod.

“Could I convince you to come with us?”

I sigh. My old man’s words come back. “When you find your wife, never lie to her. She’ll know and it’ll ruin things. If you pick the right woman, she’ll be better than a priest when something’s dying to get out.”

Keeping my promise to myself, I tell her the truth. “A quiet life isn’t in the cards for me, Laurel. Trouble finds me, always, and it’s not in me to walk away. Probably never was. Even when it destroys me.” Watching her face, which looks more interested than disappointed, I add, “Had to do something young, to save someone I love. It tore me apart inside. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. I broke down and confessed my sin to a priest. Looking back, I’m pretty sure he’d been in the communion wine pretty deep that night.” I laugh softly. “So here I am, this kid, crying over a mortal sin and also ashamed of myself for breaking down. And he says, ‘Sometimes God sends archangels down from heaven; others times he stations them on Earth. Maybe you’re your family’s avenging angel. How else could you have done what you did? You’re only thirteen.’ Then he gave me a penance that took me a year to finish.”

She smiles. “Considering your life, you must be doing penance year-round these days.”

I chuckle. “You’d think, but I’m a man who loves his loopholes. I decided as an avenging angel I’m exempt.” I smirk, and her brows go up. “I know the angel stuff is bullshit, but at the time, I needed to believe it. It got me through.” Rubbing my forehead, I think back. “One night the weather was nice, and Kath and I went out on the roof and had a drink. We were kids and both so tired. I told her what Father said and without hesitation she says, ‘Of course that’s true. Because I prayed to God to help me because I knew I couldn’t save myself. So the almighty whispered in your ear and made you do it for me. If you don’t believe it, answer me this. How could you be so good with a gun when you were little unless you were meant to do what you did?’”

Smirking, I watch Laurel’s face closely for any reaction. She just watches me back.

“Two good, trustworthy people said the same thing, so I started believing it was my job to rid the world of evil men. There are ones who think no one can stop them, and then something forces them to cross my path.” I rest my left hand on my chest. “And as for where I live, Coins works because C’s here and he’s my keeper.” I wink at her. “Twice he’s saved me from making a rash judgment that would’ve been devastating down the road.”

“Connor McCann is every bit as wrathful and rash as you.”

“No. C’s not rash. Didn’t you see how he kept his head tonight with a gun pointed at him?”

“I saw you do the exact same thing when Enzo Palermo had a gun to your head.”

“Exactly. Who do you think I learned it from?”

She rests a hand on my stomach and nods. “So that’s it then. A church wedding at St. Mary’s.”

“St. Mary’s isn’t for eighteen months. The courthouse is for that. St. Mary’s is till death do us part.”

“Oh. Understood. The courthouse is fine.”

“So is St. Mary’s.” I draw in a slow breath. “You’re the one thing I want just for myself, Laurelyn. That’s selfish, but…”

“You’re not selfish, Scott. The number of people you take care of and watch over is ridiculous.” She smiles and tilts her head. “At first I thought I was supposed to take care of you. But I’m not sure you’d enjoy that.”

“Depends what you mean by taking care of me. Bossing me around, no. I’m the head of the family.”

“Well then, I guess, add me to the list of people you take care of,” she teases.

I’m looking for more from her so I keep going. “Added you a long time ago. Almost a decade.”

Her brows rise.

“I was up in a tree in St. Mary’s cemetery, letting the herd thin before a fight. You walked through. It was after we’d broken up and hadn’t talked in a couple of months. You were carrying some wildflowers from near the fence. You cleared off my dad’s grave, the way you’d seen me do, and you rested the flowers on top and talked to him, just as sweet as Kath or the baby would’ve. That’s when I knew. Deep down, I was always gonna be in love with you.”

She leans over me and kisses my chest. “I loved you as a teenager. Thought I got over it but obviously didn’t. Clearly, I’ll always be in love with you too.”