Loving Ean (The Fae Guard Book 2) (32 page)

THE LOW BARITONE OF
Johnny Cash wakes me up and keeping my eyes closed, I blearily reach out in search of the offending device. My hand lands on the cell phone charging on the nightstand, and I peel back one eyelid and see that it is Aden calling. Opening both eyes, I glance at the alarm clock on the little table. Three in the morning?

I ease Laila off of my chest where she has been sleeping soundly, and slip out of bed. Grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms, I put them on fast and then walk to the living room before answering the call.

“Do you know what time it is, asshole?” I growl.

“Do you think I’d be calling your ornery ass if it wasn’t important? Shaylee’s in labor, dickhead.” Aden’s voice is filled with impatience and excitement and a whole other host of emotions, I imagine. I grin at his obviously frazzled state and then I hear Shaylee yelling about how she’s not going to let him touch her again and I double over in laughter.

“Ean, just get your ass down here. And do you know where the fuck Laila is? I can’t get ahold of her to tell her Shaylee is in labor.”

My laughter stops abruptly when I suck in a breath and almost choke on it. “Why would you think I’d know where Laila is?” I ask guardedly.

Aden huffs and I swear I can hear him pacing, bringing the grin back to my face. “I don’t know, Ean. I just can’t find her. You both live there, what the fuck ever! Just tell her if you see her.”

He hangs up and I start laughing again as I stare at the blank screen. This night is going to feed my “give Aden shit” bank for years to come. I’m still chuckling and shaking my head as I walk back to the bedroom to wake Laila, grabbing the clothes strewn about the floor on the way.

Laila’s sprawled across the bed, facing the door, and taking up a surprisingly big chunk of the space considering how tiny she is. I set the clothes on the end of the bed, then come back around to her. Leaning over, I tuck a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear, then run a finger from her forehead down the side of her face and rub it cross her lips. I replace my finger with my mouth and lightly brush her with a kiss.

“Baby,” Another kiss, “Baby, you need to wake up.” This time I kiss each eyelid and she finally stirs, blinking at me in a sleepy haze. “You need to get up and get dressed, love. We’ve got to go to the hospital, Shaylee is in labor.”

That gets her attention and suddenly she’s flying of the bed and down the hall where I hear her running around before streaking back into the bedroom. And, I do mean
streaking.

“Where the hell are my clothes, Ean?” she explodes and again starts running around wildly.

“Calm down, babe,” I snicker. “They are right here on the end of the bed.” I gesture with my hand to where they are piled up.

She comes to a halt, “What?” She looks to where I was indicating. “Oh. Thanks.” Then proceeds to dress in the shortest amount of time I have ever seen for a woman.
Impressive, and oddly hot.

I grab a shirt and track pants from my dresser and throw them on, then follow Laila, who is racing back down the hall. “Are you coming?” she bellows.

I reach the foyer where she is waiting, hopping from one foot to the other. “Relax, baby. You won’t be in the delivery room anyway. We don’t have to break any speed records.” I laugh. She rolls her eyes and tosses open the door, walking out muttering something about men and something not being the point . . .

I shrug, grab my wallet and keys, and follow her out to the car.

We arrive in record time because Laila literally almost reached her leg over to put her foot on the gas. Women. Brannon, Kendrix, Hayleigh, and Calista are all in the waiting room, sitting in a group with coffees and chatting. They look up as we enter and Kendrix points to two seats near them. Calista obviously interprets the anxious expression on Laila’s face because she stands and walks over to us, “Nothing yet, girl. Chill out. You made it in time.”

Time for what? I don’t understand these chicks.
Calista takes Laila into the small kitchenette in the next room to grab us drinks, while I continue over to the group and flop down into a chair. Brannon is eyeing me with a speculative gleam so I turn my attention to Kendrix, “She almost got us into an accident trying to make me go faster. Why do we need to hurry up and wait?” I’m honestly perplexed.

Kendrix rolls his eyes, “Apparently, it’s important that they be at the hospital when the babies are born.”

“Why? She’s not in the delivery room.”

“How the fuck should I know?”

Excellent point.

Laila sits down next to me, catching the exchange. She shakes her head, looking at me with disappointment.

“If there’s one thing you should know, its covert ops and women.”

I honestly have no response to that—wait. “That’s two things.”

Kendrix laughs and punches my shoulder to get my attention. Then his face becomes completely solemn and intense, “No, grasshopper. It is not.”

Laila does a fist pump in the air and Kendrix loses his hold on the serious expression, a wide smile splitting his face. He leans forward and slaps palms with Laila, then they both bust out laughing. I’m looking between the two of them, trying to figure out if they’ve lost their minds, too much coffee maybe? Kendrix sobers up enough to speak, “Movie quote, dude.
Red 2.
” He’s looking at me with a “what else would it be, dumbass?” expression.

Another excellent point.

Laila nudges my shoulder and holds out a Styrofoam cup with steaming black coffee in it and I look at her with adoration as I take it. A long swallow and I can feel the cogs in my brain start to turn. We sit there drinking and waking up for a while and eventually Aden’s dad, Alvin, and his sister Faye arrive and come sit with us. Faye is the only one of Aden and Laila’s siblings who still lives at home, still lives in our city, actually. Aden’s mom, Elysia, is in the delivery room with the couple.

It only takes another two hours before Aden bursts into the room in wrinkled green scrubs, looking haggard and messy and absolutely beaming with pride. “It’s girls!” he yells.

After a round of hugs and congratulations, Aden takes off to get back to his wife and children, returning a few minutes later to take us back in small groups to see mama and babies. Aden’s dad sends Laila and me in after he and Faye return. We walk down the long, cold white-walled, hallway, our shoes squeaking on the white linoleum. We reach a (you guessed it) white door with the name Foster on the little plaque. Laila pushes it open softly, pokes her head in and excitedly asks, “Hey! Can I meet my sweet nieces?” She pushes the door open fully and rushes over to the corner where Aden is rocking in a recliner, a little bundle on each shoulder. Laila snatches one of the babies and Aden frowns fiercely. He opens his mouth, to ask for her back, most likely, when Shaylee shuts him up. “You have to share, Aden. Stop being such a ba—oh. Well, whatever. Share.”

Shaylee’s eyes swing over to me and she smiles, but it slips just the tiniest bit as she peruses me from head to toe. She looks at Laila, then back at me and her eyes start twinkling with a secret amusement. She can’t tell what we were doing. Can she? No. Of course not. I smile at her, then quickly look away and give my attention to the babies, avoiding her gaze as much as possible.

Aden slips the remaining baby into the crook of his arm. “This is Alysia.” He gestures to the little one snuggled up to Laila. “And, that is Felicitae.” He is oozing pride, happiness, and contentment. I feel the slightest tug in my heart, but I ignore it, not ready to admit to envy.

Our visit doesn’t last very long as all of us are exhausted. Laila falls asleep on the ride back to the training center and I am barely able to rouse her enough to get out of the car. In a movie moment, that would seriously impress Laila if she were at all coherent, I sweep her up into my arms and carry her back to my apartment.

Once inside, I take her to the bedroom, undress us both, and then slide under the sheet and position her back on my chest, and just before I fall asleep, I get a glimpse of what I was coveting: I am content.

“Ean!”

My eyes fly open and I jackknife up in bed, pain searing on my chest. Laila has got ahold of my nipples and she is twisting them tight, shooting pain straight to my belly.
What the hell?

“What the fuck, Ean?” She’s screeches. I’m desperately trying to get her to relieve the pressure from her evil little fingers, so I don’t answer right away. This seems to piss her off even more, but to my relief, she releases my abused nubs. I rub my chest gingerly, trying to alleviate some of the pain. She’s once again straddling me, her hands tugging at her hair, clearly freaking out about something. Laila angry is hot as hell. Laila angry while she sits naked, astride my morning hard on? Said hard on has turned into a steel baseball bat.

“Baby, calm down. What’s the matter?” I soothe. I move slightly to try and find a more comfortable spot, but my cock is so hard, it doesn’t matter.

Laila freezes and glares down at the offending appendage. “Seriously?” Her fiery green eyes meet mine, and it does absolutely nothing to help the situation. I do, however, get a little concerned for the future state of my cock when she glances down menacingly. Lucky for us both, she rolls her eyes and climbs off of me, and then the bed.

“It’s morning, baby. You were sitting on me naked. Did you really expect no reaction to that?” Her expression darkens a little but then lets up, because she knows I’m right. “Now, what’s got you so worked up?”

Most likely trying to avoid yelling again, Laila’s mouth clamps shut, her face turning red, and points to a spot on the bed next to me. I look to where she is referring to and see a spot of dried moisture on the sheets. I return my gaze to her, confused, “What? That spot?”

Laila growls in frustration and tugs at her hair once again. “You didn’t use a fucking condom, Ean!”

The realization stuns me. I have never forgotten a condom, not even with Laila. Particularly with Laila, actually. There was no way I was going to get her pregnant and leave, so I’d been extra vigilant. I guess now that I’d decided to be with her, it wasn’t so prevalent on my mind. But, I’m not Aden, (don’t give me that look. I’m not insulting the guy. That he was a total dumbass is fact) I don’t want to get Laila pregnant so she’ll be tied to me just because we are having a kid. I almost shudder at the thought of kids anyway. I want them, don’t get me wrong. Right now, though? The idea scares the shit out of me.

I scrub my hands over my face tiredly; it’s too early in the morning for this shit. “I’m sorry, Laila. I’ve never forgotten before. It had been so long, and you were just so fucking beautiful, I guess I just got carried away. I’m sorry, truly.”

A little of the fire backs away and she looks somewhat mollified. “Well, it’s really a moot point anyway, right? I’m on the pill and it’s not like this will happen again.” Pain knifes through me at her words, but I know I deserve it. I’ll change her mind.

“As long as you’ve used a condom with everyone else you’ve slept with, I won’t worry about it.” She wanders around the room, picking up her clothes, then heads out of the room as she’s speaking and I get up to follow her, wary of her statement.

“What others?”

She goes to the couch, sets her clothes down, and starts dressing. She waves her hand at me dismissively, answering absentmindedly, “You know, whoever you’ve slept with since me.”

The first thing to hit me is hurt . . . that she thinks I would get over her so quickly. It’s quickly encompassed by righteous indignation. I stride over to her and with my hands on her shoulders, spinning her around to stare into her eyes. “You really believe that? That I would jump into bed with ‘others’ so soon after being with you?” I emphasize the insult that she clearly thinks there was more than one by using air quotes. “Laila,” I take a deep breath and try to push the negative emotions away. Being offended and getting upset over this will just add one more hurdle for me to jump over in my race to get her back. “I haven’t been with anyone but you since the first time we kissed.” If there was ever a time for our innate honesty to work in my favor, it’s right now.

Her eyes grow wide in surprise, but they are also filled with confusion. “Why?”

There are a lot of ways I could answer this, so many reasons got into that decision. However, I waffle over whether or not to just come out and lay it all on the line. I’m afraid if I push too hard, too fast, she’ll run from me and never stop. Holding back has never been my style, “Fuck it,” I mutter. I grab her chin with one hand and make sure her grassy green eyes are directly meeting my blues. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you and since the first time we kissed, I’ve never wanted anyone else. I love you, baby. I’ve been an absolute shit. But, there it is.”

Laila’s jaw is hanging down as she stares at me. I wait a while before she responds. “You what?” she croaks, her voice sounds rough and dry.

“I—I want another chance with you, Laila.” I stammer, starting to feel the nervousness creep up on me. “I love you, baby. I saw what my life would be like without you in it and I can’t survive that way.” I’m watching her reaction carefully and all I see is astonishment. I’ll take it. That’s better than a big, fat, resounding no.