“How cliché. A man who doesn’t believe in marriage,” I teased.
“I didn’t say anything about marriage,” he pointed out. “I take issue with a big fancy wedding.”
“Not the wedding type?” I asked, slowly sitting up.
“A small wedding might not be so bad. Just close friends—family. Something casual, with good food and loud music.”
I smiled at him and then leaned over and placed my head in the cradle where his neck met his shoulder. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound so bad. When the time is right.”
He let out a low chuckle as his hands skated up the back of my shirt. “You hungry? Boxer and Linden wanted to grab some food. How do you feel about fried chicken?”
“My mouth started watering the moment you said ‘fried’.”
“So that’s a yes.”
“Yes, that’s a yes.”
“I’ll text Boxer that we’re about to head out.”
I climbed out of bed and went to the dresser. I pulled out a pair of dark jeans and slid them on, only I wasn’t able to button them.
With a sigh, I turned.
Slash’s head was bent, and his fingers were flying across his phone screen. When he looked up, he stilled. “Problem?”
“You could say that.” I lifted my shirt to reveal the fact that I couldn’t fit into my pants.
“Come here,” he said softly, setting his phone aside.
I walked to him and when I was within reach, he wrapped his arms around me and pressed his head to my belly.
And suddenly, it didn’t matter that I couldn’t button my favorite pair of jeans. Because Slash found me beautiful. Because my body was changing from carrying our child.
I sank my fingers into his hair. “How do you make everything better with just your touch?”
He looked up at me and smiled. “I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Slash released me and reached for his phone. “Take off your pants. We’re going to be late.”
Chapter37
An hour later,flushed and wearing leggings underneath a loose dress, I walked into the restaurant with Slash. The smell of fried chicken and mashed potatoes hit me instantly.
“Oh my God,” I moaned. “I’m about to go feral for fried chicken.”
“Let’s get you fed.”
Linden and Boxer were already at a table with two pints of beer in front of them.
Slash released my hand so I could slide into the seat across from them and he quickly sat next to me. “Sorry we’re late,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Linden replied. “Hope you don’t mind, but we grabbed a round of drinks and ordered hush puppies and corn biscuits for appetizers.”
“That totally works for me,” I said. “I might eat an entire chicken all by myself.”
Neither Linden nor Boxer smiled at my quip.
“I need to talk to you about some club shit,” Boxer said to Slash.
Slash paused, looking from Linden to Boxer who weren’t even paying attention to one another.