Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 142818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
And yes, it was exciting, dangerous and wonderful to see the way the Sons of Templar lived their lives. I’d been caught up in that and in my feelings for Elden for quite some time. I’d been focused on what would happen when the club found out about us, how that would affect my family.
I had not been focused on what it meant for me, what being in love with someone who broke the law on a daily basis meant for my future.
Elden would leave the club... If I asked him. Fuck, he offered to do that before he even got me pregnant.
I searched Elden’s eyes, the aquamarine glaciers flecked with navy. I had misgivings, about guns, violence and the patriarchal structure on which the club was built. But those things could not supersede the love, the family, the fierce loyalty they felt for one another. Those things could not supersede what the club had given Elden, my mom … me.
“No,” I said finally. “It’s not going to cause a problem.”
Elden’s body sagged in relief, then he leaned in to kiss me.
I held my finger between us. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stay quiet about the things I don’t like.”
He smirked. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.” Then he grabbed my wrist, pulled me in and kissed the ever-loving hell out of me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It wasn’t as much of an adjustment having a man in our household as I thought it might be. Actually, it was safe to say that everyone liked Elden living in the house. He was handy with spiders, tight jars, getting things off high shelves, and he was a fucking great cook.
He cooked for us all.
Almost every night. Except the nights he was out on ‘club business’ and came home late.
Elden cooked for us because he was very concerned about me getting all the nutrients required to grow a healthy baby. And because dinner was the only meal I could keep down.
My morning sickness was one of the many things he asked our doctor about at our first checkup. She’d reassured him that it was normal. I was normal. We’d heard the baby’s heartbeat. Elden had gone still and misty eyed.
I’d sobbed because of the misty eyes and the pregnancy hormones. They were a bitch.
I was tired all the time. School was killing me. I fell asleep at my desk many nights, but I always woke up in my bed. With Elden. Because he carried me there the second my head hit the book, maybe even before. I didn’t have solid evidence of this, but he was always sitting in the armchair in our room, staring at me over whatever book he was reading, as if waiting to catch me.
We didn’t exactly have a routine, but we had a … life. Our separate lives had intermingled to become one. We were a … couple. Although we weren’t using labels. I didn’t want labels. Just thinking about them made my stomach spin in a way that had nothing to do with morning sickness and everything to do with my dearly departed father.
My mother called constantly, asking how I was feeling, what I was craving. I made the mistake of telling her I was craving jalapeno potato chips, then a whole box of them was at our front door the next day.
Swiss spoke during those calls too. He asked about how I was feeling, how I was sleeping and told me he would threaten my professors with bodily injury if they tried to work me too hard.
He did not mention Elden.
So the fistfight was not some magical cure for man feuds, it seemed.
“Okay, is it bad that I just used my vibrator for like … thirty minutes after my hot boyfriend came and fucked me?” Sariah asked, slumping down on the sofa beside us.
I had been at class all day and had planned on going straight to work after, but Elden had ordered me onto the sofa for at least one hour of rest. I’d argued solely because he ordered me to do so, but then I’d relented because I was actually very tired.
And then Sariah slumped down and asked about the vibrator.
I was used to those kinds of questions. I probably wouldn’t have even registered it as unusual if we didn’t have a large, older, muscled biker living in a household of four girls. One, to his credit, who didn’t even raise his brow at Sariah or her question.
“It’s not bad at all, not on your end, at least,” I told her sincerely, happy that she was talking about sex openly and having sex again. She still got shadows behind her eyes sometimes, and I knew she was thinking of what happened to her, but those shadows passed quicker these days.
Despite what Elden had said about Colby, she had not mentioned the man or hinted that she had any kind of feelings for him. But her suddenly having a boyfriend when she’d previously been very against monogamy was suspect.