LUCI (The Naughty Ones Book 2) (4 page)

“Get over it, asswipe, I had to. I had to get over a lot of things. Like you ignoring my calls and texts. Being booted out of your building…basically being made to feel like I don’t exist. I got over it and so can you.”

The hit is direct and I feel myself falter just the tiniest bit when she seems to collect herself and stomps away to the kitchen, her cute ass twitching with every step.

My dick just gets harder when I see it and I have the overwhelming urge to go after her and touch her. I want to fuck her so badly right now, it feels like my balls are about to implode.

I can’t, though. I don’t want her rejecting me just yet, something I know she’ll do no matter how hot she is for me right now. So instead of following her and throwing her on the kitchen counter so I can eat her sex and thrust into all the creamy heat, I stay seated right where I am and wait on her.

Today is not about getting what I want from Luci. It’s about seeing just how serious she is about the path she’s taken. If she doesn’t budge from her plan, then I have plans in place for my little sprite that will not only ensure she’s mine but will also ensure that I get another shot with her.

Sex may sound good right now, but it in no way guarantees that she’ll give me a second chance and I know it.

No, better to stay the course, Cage, and win the pot outright.

When she stomps back into the living room she’s carrying two bottles of water.

The way she practically throws it at my head is hilarious, and I find myself chuckling a little as she flops down onto the other sofa and just glares at me.

“You won’t leave? Fine. What do you want, Cage?”

The way she says my name instead of calling me Freddie like everyone tests my limits. I want to push her down on the sofa and take her like a wild man just to hear her screaming my name up at me as she comes around my length.

Stop. Focus. Stay the course.

“I wanted to actually talk to you this time instead of having to listen to you tell me all the ways and reasons you can’t forgive me, Luce. You never gave me a chance to apologize and explain some of the things—”

“Oh? You feel all put out that I wouldn’t sit there like a docile kitten and swallow whatever bullhockey you wanted to spout at me. Oh sorry, Luci, it’s not you, babe, it’s me. Maybe a little. I never meant to hurt you. I just don’t do the love scene. Oh no, wait! Maybe you wanted to tell me that you had a shitty childhood and can’t help being a loveless ass? Well too freaking bad, Cage! We’re all messed up in some way thanks to our parents. It’s normal. That doesn’t mean we have the right to shit on other people, and it sure as hell doesn’t give anyone the right to do what you did to me. You used me, knowing how I felt, and then tossed me away like last night’s old pizza.”

Yikes. Those hormones are really doing a number on my usually sweet, sarcastic baby.

“You’re right.”

What else can I say? She’s got me pegged like a motherfucker and we both know it. I knew it in that hospital and I’ve thought about nothing else since she told me to screw off.

I’ve had a shitty childhood and it bred some trust issues. So what? I’m a grown man and I should have manned the hell up a long time ago and accepted that just because my own parents were assholes does not mean everyone else is a lost cause.

I know this, I’ve come to accept that I’ve lived almost half my life in a fog, pushing people away and closing myself off like an idiot. All that’s on me and I know that I don’t deserve Luci, that I can’t blame her for never loving me again.

Too bad accepting that and letting her go are two totally different things.

My words seem to shock her and I watch in amusement as her expression goes from nuclear rage to shocked suspicion.

“You know?”

“Yeah. I know that I fucked up because I was a coward who would rather push the people he loves away than risk being abandoned. It’s taken me a while to really look at myself, Luci, but I finally did it when I realized what I mistake made with you. I didn’t like what I saw. So here I am, begging you, pleading. Please forgive me and give me another chance. I swear to God, Luci, if you just give me a chance to show you how it can be, that we can be together and have the happy ending…you won’t ever regret it.”

My heart’s beating like a jackhammer and I feel my palms go liquid when she just sits and stares at me like I’ve grown another head or two.

I can’t say I blame her for the lack of trust, and I definitely can’t blame her for wanting to protect herself from further hurt. I deserve whatever she throws at me, and I will take it all with not a word of protest.

Losing though?

Rule three. Never quit.

I’m sure as hell not about to break that particular rule now that I’m playing for the future of my unborn children and the only happiness I will ever have.

After a long silence and a lot of sweating while she chews her lips, I close my eyes in resignation when she looks at me and slowly shakes her head.

“I can’t do this again. I’m sorry, Cage, but the answer is a definite no. You hurt me a lot. It took me a long time to get the message that you and me aren’t meant to be, but I got it now. Loud and clear. I can’t go back to the desperate, hopeful craziness of the past because it would just push me too far this time. I’m done. Finished. Over you.”

Shit. Looks like plan B just became a reality.

“Okay,” I murmur, getting to my feet and stalking over to her slowly, my heart hurting a little as I bend down and brush a soft kiss to her ash-blond hair. “I get it. I’ll be seeing you around, Luce.”

It takes everything I have in me to walk away from her as those beautiful green eyes mist over and I see her lip tremble, but I do it because like I said, I have every intention of winning this fight, and to do that I need to ensure that I have a connection to her that can never be broken.

I hope she forgives me for what I’m about to do, though. God I hope so because as things stand, I am determined to make Luci Braxton my wife. Right now, there’s only one way to do it.

I make the call I didn’t want to make just as I slide into the car waiting for me and pray that things work out.

“Well? Did she go for it?” Dyson Braxton barks as soon as he answers my call.

He may float around in a fog of love and lust for his wife most of the time but the man is and will always be a shark, just like me and the boys, and he knows how to play things when he’s invested.

He came to me not too long ago when, just like me, he got word from the security team that’s been tailing her since she hit sixteen years of age. Seems Luci’s dad is not into the thought of having his only princess impregnated by some dick he doesn’t know.

Plus, well, I went full sap and broke down on the guy and admitted what a lovesick chump I am.

He likes me now, as much as is possible when just a few weeks ago he wanted to murder me with his bare hands for hurting his girl.

“What do you think?”

“Well balls, mate, I didn’t think she would,” he huffs. “She’s like her old dad in that way. Stubborn as a bleeding mule, my girl. Dammit. We’ll have to go with the next plan and hope she doesn’t kill us all when she discovers what’s happened.”

“Yeah, like that’s gonna happen. You’ve seen how she is when she’s pissed?”

Dyson gives a choked laugh and I can just see him shaking his head like a proud papa.

“Got that damnable temper from her mum. My wife may be scatty and one of those hippies with the love and peace shit streaming from her pores, but the woman does have a vile temper and Luci got it straight from her.”

Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, old man.

“Okay. So we’re going with plan B. I’ll call you when it’s a go. Once again, please do not tell her mother. I want to live to see my children, old man,” I warn, cupping my balls as a shiver runs through me.

Luci once threatened to de-sack me and wear my balls on her charm bracelet. I snorted at that and asked her how she’d fit the big bastards on that delicate chain, and she just smiled darkly at me.

Call me nuts but I don’t relish the thought of losing my baby makers when she finds out what I’ve done.

“And I want to live to spoil the little blighters. Now stop gabbing to me and go do your bloody job, Cage. And remember, you hurt her again and they will never find your body.”

I like him. He’s my kind of people.

The next call I make after ending the previous one with a grunt is to Woody and Jack.

“Tell me she went for it,” Jack says with a groan as Woody just laughs.

“Shut up, Woody. And no, that would be a negative on the ‘love Freddie back’ plan. Seems my little sprite has taken quite the dislike to me.”

              “Shit. I guess that means…”

“Call your guy, Wood.”

Harvest Time

Luci

My nerves are rioting as I lie in the hospital bed and watch the nurse bustle around me with a cheery smile. According to her and Dr. Sparks, things went well and I should be out of here in no time. All I feel is a sort of finality.

I should be ecstatic that the procedure went well and that so many of the embryos were viable, yet I feel sad. Defeated. Like I could burst into tears and never stop as it finally hits home that this is the last page. I can never go back and consider getting with Freddie Cage and having my fairy tale because I could be a mom soon.

The knowledge is somewhat hard to swallow, and I find myself battling tears of regret even as a sense of giddiness starts to unfurl. I’m happy, knowing that I could even now be pregnant. I already love my baby so much it’s terrifying.

              “Well, kid, this does it, huh? It’s just going to be you and me from now on. No wedding and happily ever afters.”

Shut up and get moving, you gloomy cow. So what if it’s over. Be honest with yourself and stop looking at it through rose-colored glasses. It was done months ago when he walked into his home with a half-naked woman and no pants.

“You okay, honey?”

My inner monologue stops as the nurse comes over to check me over for the last time and gives me the go-ahead to dress and leave.

“I’m okay. Just nervous, I think,” I murmur, letting her help me change from the paper gown back into my loose dress and granny panties.

“That’s completely normal, hun. Now you know what to keep an eye out for and you know what to do if you start cramping or spotting,” she says as I slide down from the bed in Dr. Sparks’s office and wait for my wobbly legs to take my weight.

“I do. I’ll be okay, I promise. Just need to get home and have a lie down while I pray a little.”

              I’m off work for the next week, on a light bedrest as I wait for my body to hopefully take and get through this next stage. If that happens, I’m back on with only a slight change in work intensity till I can confirm whether I am or am not pregnant.

A waiting game, I think dolefully as I pay the cabbie and slide out at my building, my only need right now a soft bed and the sleep I didn’t get as I tossed and turned last night, once again obsessing about Freddie Cage and those sad blue eyes of his.

              I trudge into my apartment and fall into bed, drifting off when my phone rings and I grab at it with a groan, answering with a barked curse.

“What! I’m trying to freaking sleep.”

“Well isn’t that a nice way to greet your mother, Lucille Braxton, and here I am trying to call you to warn you about your week’s endeavours girl.”

As Mummy’s voice invades my brain, I groan and close my eyes at what’s coming next. Mummy’s into psychic readings and all that jazz. She calls at least once a week with an update for me.

Her previous psychic ended up kicking the bucket, by her own hand.

“Sorry, Mum, just tired. What’s up?” I ask, rolling gingerly to my back, settling in for a long chat.

“Well I went over to see Cleo, finally, after your father let me out of bed.”

“Gross, Mum. I don’t need to be puking all over myself right now. I really am too tired to do anything but lie in bed and go to sleep.”

Mum clucks her tongue and I hear a giggle as she shuffles, a door closes, and she starts whispering.

“He’s looking for me so I have to hide in the closet and whisper. Now where was I? Oh yes, I finally got to escape and went to see Cleo and she gave me a banger of a reading for you, love. According to what she’s seen, you need to steer clear of farming, or growing, something of that sort,” she says breezily, making my eyes roll closed.

Scatty woman.

“Oh! And you know, she was muttering something about cages and not just doing something or other about it. I don’t quite remember it all because she had me drinking some of that vile tea she makes. I was looking for somewhere to spit it out, you know.”

Great, just what I need today, a half-arse reading that I’ll be agonizing over and trying to decipher all afternoon.

“Mummy, can’t you just one time actually listen and give me a full account of this instead of your half sentences and scatty flippin’ ramblings?” I mutter.

“Well excuse me, Lucille, but I was busy trying not to die from tea poisoning, and for some reason Daddy didn’t want me leaving the house this week. He made it really difficult to even get to Cleo, and then when I got home today he started distracting me and I forgot some of what Cleo said. I remembered the important bits, though. No growing and something about a cage and not running.”

Okay, no physical activity, I already know that.

“Okay then, Mummy, thanks for the heads up. And tell Daddy I said thanks for threatening that neighbor of mine with a court case. I haven’t smelled even a hint of cabbage this last week, thank God.”

That has her giggling and I enjoy the next half hour as she prattles on about some green project she’s got going while she hides from Dad. Really, I can literally hear him bellowing, searching for her as we speak.

Then Dad turns into an absolute bear.

“Come out already, you barmy woman! I’ve made lunch!”

“Oops! Gotta go, love. Tell that man of yours I said hello.”

She’s off even as I let out a disgruntled gasp and I toss the phone with a sneer. I told the crazy cow months ago that Freddie and I were on the outs. You’d think she’d have at least listened to that.

Mummy and Daddy are a right pair of scatterbrains.

***

I groan as I start gagging again and dive head-first into the toilet bowl for the fourth time.

It’s been well over a month since I got implanted with my genius baby and I feel like freaking hell just shat me out and started stomping all over me.

I’m carrying a baby. One who seems intent on killing me before I even start showing. To be honest it’s been the worst experience of my life so far, and that’s saying a lot. I once had Mummy drag me off to a farm one summer to help them bring in their harvest.

It was the worst experience of my life when I realized they were into old-school methods and chose to do things the natural way, namely hand picking all their crops and doing some sort of hoodoo prayer over every freaking corn cob.

              I’ve already gained weight. I am not glowing like Callie and the other inhuman bitches of the world apparently do, and I am so not even going to start on what I look like.

Let’s just say that when you feel the way I do, washing your hair is a luxury you can’t afford.

Oh, and another little gem of absolute bliss? I can’t work right now. I’ve been shoved onto a leave of absence after I went to work one afternoon and started making clam chowder.

It ended badly. Very badly.

I had to drag my ass home on the condition that I could return to work when my stomach flu was over. Nope, no one knows about the hostile entity inside me as yet.

              “Stop it! Your dad’s like a freaking genius or something. Don’t you know that if you kill me you won’t live either?” I flop to the bathroom mat and wait for the angels to come take me.

I want to cry a little as I feel the nausea settle to a bearable throb in my gut, that’s how grateful I am to be free of it. At least for now. Okay, so I do cry a little as I lie there and let the coolness of the tiles sink into my skin and cool the raging heat seeping from my bones.

I feel so crappy right now that I almost laugh when the doorbell rings, followed by a swift knocking.

You think I can move now? Not in this lifetime, whoever you are.

              “What the hell!”

Oh God, I think when I hear that voice and look up to see the idiot of my dreams standing in the doorway, his face a mask of stony displeasure.

“Go away, Cage. Just go away,” I mutter, only caring a little that I look like the crusty part of Satan’s jockstrap right now.

He doesn’t listen, though. Does he ever freaking listen!? He stalks my way with a scowl before bending low and sliding his arms beneath me.

The way he lifts me is so freaking hot and I find myself clutched to his chest before I can even think of trying to wiggle down.

“Christ, Luci. What the fuck, baby?” he barks when he finally gets an eyeful of me.

              “Stop yelling and put me down, Cage. I wanted to shower,” I mutter, finally finding the strength to start wiggling.

His arms clamp tighter around me and I see him sniff once before closing his eyes and changing direction, heading back into the bathroom.

“You can have a bath after I brush your teeth and get some of that…stuff out of your hair,” he mutters, dumping me on the vanity before going to run a bath.

“I can do it. Go away.”

Oh please don’t leave. Don’t leave me all alone with this demon baby
, I plead silently, my mind finally snapping a little.

How in God’s name did I ever think I could do this stuff alone?

He narrows his eyes and comes back to grab my toothbrush. I don’t even care if I look like a pathetic asshole. I need someone, and if I’m honest I’ll admit I need him to be here and save me from myself.

I’ve been lonely and scared and pretending not to be for weeks now.

              “Open up.”

I obey instantly and moan as he brushes my teeth gently, completely focused on his task as if brushing my teeth and getting rid of the sour smell that’s soaked into my very pores is his life’s mission.

By the time I spit and rinse I feel so much better I could just kiss him.

“Hop off, baby. Let’s get all that…stuff out of your hair, and maybe see about getting you to the doctor.”

“No!” I yell when he goes for the hem of my shirt, panic setting in at the thought of him seeing me this way.

I can’t. I’m not ready to let go yet, and I can only imagine that he’ll be out of here like a freaking shot once he sees my state and realizes why my belly is so hard and rounded.

“Luci, baby, come on now. You need a bath and you look about as capable of going it alone as a limp noodle. Don’t be shy. I’ve already seen, touched, and tasted it all anyway.” He grins, a small dimple popping out in his cheek.

“Er, uh, no. Um, I can do it,” I mutter, holding on to my shirt like my life depends on it, which at this very moment it does.

              Freddie seems to be praying for patience as he pulls his hands away and looks down at me, his bright blue eyes narrowed on my pale face.

“You’re sick and you need to go to the doctor. And by God, Luci, I will get you there if I have to carry your smelly, puke-stained ass there just as you are.”

              The man’s a freaking tyrant. And an ass. And so handsome that for just a second all I can do is stare at him before I feel my anger rise.

He wants to take care of me now? Now! When I can’t have him and can’t accept this gentle caring he seems to have found under a rock.

              “What are you even doing here?”

“I told you I’d be seeing you again. What? You thought I’d just realize I freaking love you and then walk away just because you told me to?” He laughs.

Admittedly, I’m in such a daze and stuck on his words that I don’t feel him rip my clothes off or gently lower me into the tub. Did he just say…?

              It’s only when I hear his indrawn breath and feel a hand cup the little mound of my belly that I snap out of it and stiffen, my eyes rounding as I bring them up to meet his.

“Oh, Luci.”

Don’t cry, Luce. Don’t. So what if he starts going crazy and yelling at you the way he did at Callie and Jack’s wedding. It doesn’t matter, remember? You let him go and chose to have a baby instead of getting your heart broken again.

“Don’t tell anyone yet,” I manage to say, my mind blank but for the fear that he’s about to run out of here and tell the whole gang and the
Times
that I’m pregnant.

I haven’t even told the parents yet.

He starts stroking me, his fingers tender, gentle, as I lie there and watch him in a daze, somehow seeing a love and tenderness I know can only be the figments of my overstressed mind.

“It’s real. It’s really happening? You’re pregnant?”

              “Well of course it is, you idiot! I am pregnant and it’s none of your freaking business.”