Page 3 of Reckless

The kitchen door slams open hard enough to shake the frame, and Sin is there, poker chip still caught between his fingers like he’d abandoned whatever he was doing halfway through. His eyes go straight to Victoria.

I don’t think he even registers me standing beside her.

The poker chip slips from his fingers, hits the tiles with a small, stupid sound, and rolls in a lazy circle before tipping flat near his boot. His eyes move from Victoria’s face to the water on the floor and back again, and I watch the truth hit him so hard it almost knocks the president clean out of him.

“Wildcat.”

The nickname is low, barely more than a breath.

He crosses the kitchen in two strides and takes her face in both hands, as if keeping her looking at him will keep the whole world from moving too fast. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“I would like to formally state…” she says, still bent slightly over the counter, “… that I may have misread the situation.”

His thumb drags across her cheek. “How long?”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“How long?”

She closes her eyes. “Sage already did that part.”

Sin looks at me.

I wish he wouldn’t.

There are men you lie to because they make it easy—Sin is not one of them.

“Three hours,” I tell him.

For the first time since I have known him, I see Sin go completely, terrifyingly still.

Not calm, still.

There is a difference.

Calm has control in it. Still is what happens when a man has to lock every violent instinct down because the thing terrifying him is not something he can shoot, bury, threaten, or beat bloody with his fists.

“Three hours?” he repeats.

Victoria winces. “I said I misread it.”

“You have been contracting for three damn hours?”

“I thought they were practice contractions.”

“Practice contractions do not break water across the clubhouse kitchen, baby.”

“Well, they do now.”

Behind him, the rest of the guys start piling into the kitchen.

Koa gets there first, still holding a beer by the neck. Nitro is already digging his phone out of his pocket before he reaches us, and Bear slips in behind them, quiet as ever. Somehow, just having him in the room makes everything feel a little less chaotic.

“What’ve we got?” Koa asks.

“A baby,” I answer.

His brows lift. “As in it’s coming now?”