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“Would you really deny me the chance to watch my kid being born?”

“No,” I whispered. “I wouldn’t deny you that. I just…”

“Still think you’re doing this alone.” He pulled me into his arms and pressed my cheek to his wet chest.

“Are you mad?” I asked.

“Not even a little bit.”

I smiled against him. “I still don’t want you to see me pooping myself on the table.”

“If it happens, I promise never to mention it.”

Looking back so I could meet his eyes, I said, “You swear?”

“I swear.” He released me and then squirted shampoo into his hands. He lathered them together and then sank his fingers into my hair. “You don’t have any tattoos.”

“Nope.”

“Do you want any?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” I lied.

“Close your eyes.”

I shut them and felt water trickle down my forehead.

As we were drying off after the shower, Slash’s cell phone rang. He wrapped the towel around his waist and sidled past me. I quickly slathered on lotion and towel-dried my hair before heading back into the bedroom. Slash was off the phone and had slipped into a pair of jeans.

He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his screen.

“What’s wrong?”

Slash lifted his head. “Hmm? Oh, nothing. I just have to go out of town for a few days on club business.”

I bit my lip. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“The bedroom furniture is supposed to be delivered tomorrow. I can’t be there to wait for it. I have to spend all day making a cake for the Bennington’s engagement party.”

“I can have one of the guys sign for it and make sure it’s set up. I don’t want you sleeping here without me.”

“I haven’t had time to pack,” I pointed out.

“Pack an overnight bag and crash at the new place. I’ll get a couple of the boys to help you move whatever you need.” He looked at me and stood up. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“I thought you were going to be around so we could do the unpacking, moving-in thing together.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, but I have to do this for the club.”

“Yeah, I know. I can still be bummed about it though.

Disappointment washed through me. We’d established a sort of rhythm, a groove. And now he was leaving town for a few days. Yeah, I knew he was coming back, but…

I was feeling hormonal and vulnerable.

And I hated to admit it, but I didn’t want to sleep alone.


Tags: Emma Slate Blue Angels Motorcycle Club Romance