“I like it when you’re bossy, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine.
“I like it when you sometimes let me be the boss,” I admitted. It was ultra masculine for a man to be comfortable taking orders from a woman.
“I know.” He caressed my ribs.
“And I sometimes like it when you’re the boss of me,” I added, kneading between his legs where he was hard as steel.
He let out a rough hiss. “Oh, I can be the boss of you, Hannah Morgan.”
And that was the end of that conversation. Not a clean win, but a nice compromise.
“You’re happy.” Lori’s deduction hauled me out of my memory, probably with a stupid grin on my face.
“I am.” I focused on her. It was a pivotal thing for me to say out loud since I’d never truly been happy.
“What about you?” I asked. She’d only just gotten back from her retreat. I thought the purpose of retreats was to return looking relaxed, at peace. There were dark circles under hereyes, and though she looked stunning while pregnant, there was a strain in her posture that shouldn’t have been there.
“Areyouhappy?” I asked, worry leaking into my tone.
She smiled tightly, looking down at her stomach. It had become rounded and much more pronounced in the short time she’d been away. “I’m excited about the baby.”
I raised my brow. “That’s not an answer to my question. Does this have something to do with Finn giving Calliope Derrick, of all people, a speeding ticket?”
Pink splotches blazed across Lori’s chest, and her gaze darted away from me. Oh yes, this totally had to do with the police chief. Which I realized was complicated since she was pregnant with another man’s baby. But from what I understood, their lore went deep. Before I could try to gently pry more out of her, her posture stiffened.
“Oh no,” Lori’s eyes widened as she looked out the window.
“Oh no, what?” My eyes followed hers, and I found a man dressed in a dark green bomber jacket, beanie down low on his head, stalking toward the bakery entrance. Nervousness instantly filled me, seeing that his eyes were on Lori.
Not because he looked bad. He was conventionally attractive—if you went for a possibly coke-addicted rock star aesthetic—but totally not Lori’s type.
There was something sinister about the way he moved, how he pushed past an elderly woman on his way in, the glint in his eyes. I was good at spotting dangerous men.
“That’s the baby daddy, I’m guessing?” I didn’t wait for her to respond, already standing up. I didn’t like the way he made the tables clatter as he walked past them, gaze intent on Lori.
I glanced toward the counter. It was nearing closing time. Nora had just served the lady who’d walked out, telling us she’d be baking in the back. Fiona was on a run to the bank.
It was a rare day when only a couple of people remained in the bakery—it was usually packed to the gills.
I looked for a brawny type that would help protect a pregnant woman from the baby daddy, who did not look like he was there to gift her a onesie.
Only a girl younger than both me and Lori and an older woman reading a battered paperback were left.
This place was normally filled with more muscled alphas than you could shake a stick at. Where were they when I needed one?
“I know you have a thing against Finn right now and how overprotective he is, but I’m thinking you should give him some kind of SOS text,” I told Lori.
All of the color drained from Lori’s face. “Yeah, I think I should.” She tapped at her phone.
“Youbitch,” the man spat as he made it to the table, scowling down to the pronounced swell of Lori’s stomach.
The way he stared at her, at his baby growing inside her, made my heart spike with warning. He was a horrific reminder of Waylon and why I’d never let him impregnate me.
“Hello to you too, Jacob,” Lori replied, staying seated. I admired her for the strength in her voice, the way she held eye contact with him even though I saw her hand shaking.
“I told you to get rid of it.” He gestured aggressively toward her stomach.
Lori flinched, and I angled myself between them.
