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I check my makeup and fix the errant fly aways as Jack paces behind me, wearing a path in the wood floor. “What are we doing?” I ask his reflection in the mirror.
Stopping behind me, he refuses to look up. “We’re getting ready to join our friends at a BDSM club while you’re six months pregnant because you insisted. That’s what we’re doing.”
“You lost fair and square. But that isn’t what I am asking. What are we doing?” For a moment, he remains silent and motionless. It’s time to call a spade a spade. There is no turning back, and it was foolish to think we ever could.
“What do you want us to be doing?” he says quietly.
“I’m done, Jack.” As he raises his head, our eyes meet in the mirror, and I can see panic written all over his face. I pivot, my eyes locking with his as I face him. “I’m done pretending that this is all I want. For us to go on living this fucking charade. Don’t you want to stop living this lie?”
“If you mean the lie that I don’t love you. That I’m not in love with you. Yes, I want to drop the fucking charade, Harper. I’ve wanted to drop it for a long time. I want this pretense of you ever moving back to your place to be over. Done.” As he takes hold of my arms, I feel the gentle touch of his thumbs on my skin as they stroke back and forth. “I want to build a life with you. A life where we raise our two amazing children together, under one roof. A life where we fulfill each other in every fucking way.” His fingertips loosen and his hands drop to my ass, pulling me against him and his hard cock.
The tightness in my chest makes it difficult to breathe. The heat from his body leaves me weak in my knees.
“Is that the charade you were talking about?”
“Yes. That’s the one.”
“Then let’s be done with it.”
His mouth crashes into mine and he walks me back up against the mirror. My hands grip the sides of his face, pulling him to me, refusing to let him go again. My robe slips open and his hand slides down my side and toward the front to cup my pussy with his hand, a fingertip teasing my clit.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Shit. Cliff’s here to pick up Honey,” I say, breaking our kiss for a moment. Hannah wants a dog, so they are having a trial run with Honey tonight. It will give Honey some time around a new crying baby too.
“I’ll let him in,” Jack says while continuing to kiss me.
Knock. Knock. Woof.
Pushing him back, our chests heave, struggling to catch our breath. His dark brown eyes peer into mine, a promise of love behind them. The corner of his mouth curls up with the beginnings of a smirk as he rolls a nipple between his fingers.
“Go let him in before Silas opens the door,” I say, slapping his hand away. He kisses me one last time before nipping my bottom lip, followed by a slap on my ass.
“Get dressed, Momma. We have to leave in a few minutes,” he says before slipping out the door.
I push the door closed and take off my robe. My thighs are damp. Fuck that was hot. I slip into my dress when I hear his phone chime. Finding it on the bed, I see it is a message from Nate.
Nate: Just leaving now. Meet you in the parking lot.
Jack: Hi Nate. It’s Harper. We are just about to leave, too. See you there.
Nate: You sure you are up for this little momma?
Jack: Don’t you worry about me.
Nate: I’m more worried about Jack.
Jack: What do you mean?
Nate: Let’s just see how this is gonna go.
What was that about?
I close the text app and notice something on Jack’s phone I’ve never seen before. Curious, I click on the pale pink square that launches the app, that automatically logs in—with my account information.
What did he do?
*
Silas is in the backseat already, with his overnight bag and his pajamas on, clipped in and ready to go. Jack meets me in the driveway and opens the door to the truck. Giving me a boost, he follows behind me.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure that you and the baby arrive safe.” Reaching over me, he clips my seatbelt. He stops short of getting out and presses his lips to mine. He closes the door and rounds the truck to get into the driver’s seat.
Before we even cross the Styre Cove boundary line, Jack reaches over and places his hand on my thigh. The heat from his palm seeps through the material of my dress before grabbing my hand and interlacing our fingers. But it isn’t as hot as his phone burning a hole in my dress pocket. The next two hours are going to be torture. I just told this man that I want him. I want all of this.
* * *
Jack runs Silas into his mother’s house where he is spending the night. A few moments later, he is back in the truck, his fingers thread through mine again as he backs out into the alley, heading toward the club. I detangle my hand from his and dig the phone out of my pocket.
“You forgot this in the bedroom.”
“Oh, thanks.” He takes it from me and tosses it in the truck’s console before grabbing my thigh, his thumb stroking back and forth. The squeeze signals my core, but I have to tamp down the feeling. At least until we have this conversation.
“Were you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” He glances at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road, merging into traffic.
“That you turned off the reminder for my birth control.”
His thumb stops. The knuckles on the hand on the steering wheel turn white from his grip, and his chest isn’t moving. He pulls his free hand off my thigh and places it on the wheel.
“You need to breathe, Jack,” I say with a calm voice that sounds unnerving to even my own ears.
“How much do you know?” He keeps his eyes fixed on the road, avoiding any glance in my direction.
“I know you have my period tracker app on your phone. I know that it is logged into my account. I also know that the reminder was turned off from your phone. Wait? How much? What else is there?”
He swallows loud enough for me to hear but doesn’t say a word, driving in silence. We arrive at the club moments later and pull into the parking space next to Nate’s truck.
“Harper–”
Violet, knocking on the truck window, cuts him off. “We can talk about this later,” I say.
“Harper!” Violet squeals as she opens my door. Nate pulls her back to his side, attempting to settle her down. “Are you excited?! You’re going to lose your mind when you see what Poppy has for you. Right babe?!” She turns to Nate who nods in agreement. “She designed it just for you.”
“She didn’t need to do that. I’m sure this dress is fine.” I have never met Poppy, so I’m not sure why she would have designed an outfit for me. But if it is anything like the purple dress she designed for Violet, tonight is going to get interesting.
Violet scans my body, taking in my bohemian style, a long flowered dress, brown boots, and a jean jacket. She purses her lips and squints one eye as if she is judging my outfit, but not in an offensive way.
“You look gorgeous, but... well, you’ll see when we get in there.” With her arm around me, we walk towards the back door of the building, feeling her excitement. Jack and Nate follow behind, but far enough I can’t hear what they are talking about. And right now, I don’t care. This can be sorted out after tonight’s events.
Violet pulls a card out of her coat pocket, swipes it over the pad next to the elevators and the doors open. Dragging me inside, she says, “Harper! Isn’t this exciting!”
“It is!” My insides are twisted up with nerves, but the reflection in the elevator shows a confident woman. Now I see the error of my outfit. “Too bad I’m not dressed properly,” I say jokingly, squinting at Violet, who hesitates to determine if I’m serious or not.
“I said you looked beautiful!” she exclaims.
Jack’s eyes connect with mine as he steps into the elevator. Lingering for a moment, a quiet smile begins to form before it slips into a blank expression. I fix my gaze ahead as the doors shut, my reflection staring back at me. Jack does the same, but I catch him stealing glances at me from the corner of my eye. Violet and Nate try to keep their hands off each other, but the sexual tension in this small metal box is bordering on suffocating.
Reaching the club’s floor, we step out of the elevator and are greeted by security. A tall man with broad shoulders stands to the side. His jet black hair shining under the overhead lights.
“Mr. Hawk, Ms. Lilla, welcome back.” He scans the cards they present to him and he motions to the large wooden door. Oh shit! We are supposed to have names picked out. I wrack my brain, but I can’t settle on anything. “And who do we have here?” the man asks.
“Santos, these are my guests. Mr. Popeye, and Miss....”
“Olive Oyl,” Jack says and I choke on my breath.
Fucker.
The music from the club seeps through the heavy wooden door, feeling the base through our feet. Jack and I follow our friends down the hall until Violet stops and points to Nate. “Jack, you go with Nate. Harper, come with me.”
Before we split up, Jack places his hand on my arm. “We need to talk. I need to explain.”
“There is nothing to explain, Jack.” I look him in the eye, desperately trying to convey my emotions, but I am doing a shit job. There is terror in his eyes as Violet grabs my arm and drags me toward the changing rooms, leaving the men behind.
“What was all that about?” Violet asks.
“Nothing.”
“Ladies!” a tall woman says as we enter the changing room. Tied back, her ash blonde hair is styled in a combination of intricate braids and dreads. The gold dress fits her like a second skin, hugging her slight curves and stopping just below her ass cheeks, only a few inches away from the top of her black leather fuck-me boots. She is gorgeous.
“Poppy, this is Harper,” Violet motions to me. Poppy’s eyes rake up and down my body, assessing me. Throughout my life, I’ve been checked out many times, but unlike most people, Poppy doesn’t leave me feeling uncomfortable or self-conscious.
“Oh. Look at you. You’re glowing. Come, come... have I got something amazing for you.”
* * *
“What’s with you?” Nate asks as he strips down and throws on a pair of black linen pants. “Are you nervous? I told you before, Harper will take the lead. That I have no doubt.”
I shake my head as I place my folded clothes into the black shiny locker. “That isn’t it. And you don’t have me figured out as much as you think, Hawk.”
“Then what’s up?” he says.
“I fucked up.”
“You? You fucked up? Mister perfect?” Nate chuckles. When I don’t respond, he backpedals. “Sorry, man, nobody’s perfect. What happened?”
“I trapped her.”
“Harper? What are you doing?” Nate sits down on the wooden bench, leaning back with his arms across his chest, waiting for me to explain.
“It’s already done.”
“What’s done? God damn it. Stop talking in code and just spit it out already,” Nate huffs out.
“I don’t think I can handle getting reamed out right now, Nate. I feel like shit as it is, and it’s already six months too fucking late. There’s no going back now.” I run my hand through my hair. “And I wouldn’t even if I could.”
A profound sense of righteousness triumphs over the lingering guilt. Harper has always been mine. And I’m hers. We just couldn’t see past our own shit to realize it.
“Six months?” Nate leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “Did you fuck with her birth control pills?”
I shake my head. “Not directly. I turned off her reminder through her period app, knowing full well she can’t remember shit.”
“When did you do this?” Nate asks.
“The night before the storm.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Not one bit.”