Incendiary (53 page)

But, instead of worrying Sloane will walk away for good, I’m concerned that he’ll be leaving for six months on tour. I’m still nervous, looking at the results and seeing two pink lines. I’m pregnant. For time alone to mull over the news, I allow Bryn to go with Abby and Zelda to the grocery store. Taking longer than usual to shower, I finally head downstairs.

The guys are staying with us, too. They’ve been practicing every day. Now, they have a critical engagement out of town. When Sloane leaves after breakfast, he’ll be gone for several days. I won’t last, worrying about his reaction to the news.

In my heart of hearts, I believe he’ll be happy this time around, but Sloane can be rather unpredictable. He hasn’t mentioned another baby to me in weeks. Maybe, I should tell Abby first.

Though we don’t talk about anything too in depth, she’s been supportive and helpful with Bryn, setting up two separate photo shoots for me here in Denver, and assisting me as I start to hire my household staff. The woman Grandma hired, Pat, will remain in LA at our house there. Abby likes this, pointing out whenever we’re at the house I won’t have to do the cleaning and cooking. In the midst of her advice about my daughter, my employees, and my modeling, Abby also helps me answer fan mail.

Yes, I have fan mail. As Sloane’s wife—well, I get more hate mail because of that—but also because of the articles and photo spreads that have appeared in several magazines. The recreation of Sloane’s photo is a stunning success, and the series of stills with him and I have become part of the band’s collector’s items.

Kiln is temporarily back and still a fucking arrogant dickhole. He has softened considerably toward me, which is a nice change. I still can’t wait to see the back of him, even if I’ll only believe he’s out when I see him leaving. Sloane is all about family and I think that’s the real reason he’s allowed his brothers to remain.

Because I need my own security, our entourage is incredible. In huge crowds, Kiln protects me, and the other guys rotate to Sloane. Mostly though, Jason is the head of my detail. Pres is still the head of the band’s and Kiln’s serves as chief for Sloane’s.

Jaeger took some time off. He had the most trouble coming to terms with Rand’s crimes. Now, though, he’s in Aspen on a vacation with his mother and plans to return to the fold next week. Per Josh’s usual, he’s working on a business deal and won’t be available to see me for a few weeks.

The moment I sit at the table, Maitland, Adam, and Quint greet me and I nod. Impatient, Kiln leans against the buffet and I throw him the evil eye.

“She’s awake,” he says in bored tones. “Can we go now?”

Sloane stares him down and he grins.

“I’ll be home in two days, sweetheart,” he tells me, standing up and the guys follow suit.

“I took longer than I should have in the shower,” I tell him, grabbing his wrist. I don’t want to blurt out my news. “I thought we could talk before you leave.”

He kisses me. “We’re running late too, Georgie. We need to get on the fucking plane.”

“What’s the rush?” I ask, gripping him tighter though he unclenches my fingers and heads for the door.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Sloane, wait a minute, please.”

“Call him on the telephone, Georgie,” Maitland tells me.

He’s usually the reasonable one.

I don’t want to give him the news over the phone. Sloane’s nearly out the door with the rest of them.

“I’m having another baby, Sloane,” I yell at him, and he stills. The moment of truth has arrived. “I took a test this morning and it’s positive.”

He slowly turns to me and I hold my breath.

“You’re pregnant?” My fingers against my belly draws his gaze to it.

“Yes,” I whisper.

He rushes to me and claims my mouth with a kiss. “You’ve just made my cock rock hard with your news.”

“What doesn’t make your cock rock hard?” I ask with a breathless giggle.

“Sloane, get your ass in gear,” Kiln snaps from behind him.

“Georgie’s pregnant,” he says between kissing me. “Call Bullard. Tell him we’re delayed an hour. Inform everyone else that we’re pushing this meeting back. I need to celebrate our news.”

I’m anxious to fly to Washington for the final meeting with Outlaw regarding Georgie’s and Meggie’s birthday party. From there, we’re going to Oregon to inspect Georgie’s bus. None of which she knows about.

Everyone’s on edge, not wanting to let anything slip to her if they don’t want to face my wrath.

Now, Georgie’s pregnant. The idea of her filled with my baby turns me on. I barely make it to our bedroom, especially with the delay of pressing my thumb against the security panel.

My dick is affecting my brain cells or the sweat on my thumb pad. After two tries, the lock doesn’t disengage. Georgie giggles and leans over, opening it herself.

Carrying her to our bedroom, I keep my mouth locked to hers.

“You’re happy about the baby?” she whispers, between our kisses.

“Almost more than I can express,” I murmur, laying her on the bed with tenderness and stroking her hair. “But not because it’ll keep you away from drugs. I no longer feel that way. You’ve grown into an amazing woman, mother, lover, and friend.”

Her eyes shine at me, her expression saying more than words ever can.

“I promise I’ll get you all the staff you need.”

“Okay,” she whispers. “After this one, though, I’m not having any more for a while. At least three years. As it is, any modeling future I have will have to be put on hold.”

“As long as you’re healthy, your pregnancy won’t be a problem. Nor will you dancing with me onstage, if you’re still interested,” I add casually.

She squeaks and rain kisses all over my face, sighing when I pin her hands above her head and change our kiss from playful to seductive.

I want to spend the rest of the day in bed with her, worshipping her, and the body that will once again nurture my baby, but I can’t. Georgie’s birthday party and tour bus need my attention. After I make love to her, I reluctantly head out, regretting she didn’t know about my plans so she could come with me.

Leaving Georgie after news of her pregnancy distracts me from finalizing plans for the joint surprise birthday party for her and Meggie. Because protecting Georgie is the main reason Kiln’s still around, I leave him with Jason to help watch over her. The memory of Jason flirting with my wife still fucks me off. Beating Kiln’s ass did the trick. I’d have to kick Jason’s ass to purge my jealousy, then Georgie would know I eavesdropped.

“Who am I? A personal protection officer or a babysitter?” Kiln snaps, bringing me away from thoughts of Jason.             

“In case you didn’t hear the first time, she’s pregnant,” I bark. “I allowed you back to help protect Georgie. Fucking do it or pack your fucking bags and leave.”

“My mother is in town,” Kiln says grudgingly, not responding to my news, although the guys are congratulating me.

“For?” The last I heard Alexia and Brenda were in Aspen, which is where Jaeger has been spending time with them.

“I don’t fucking know why she’s here, but since I’m apparently babysitting Georgie, I’m visiting with Alexia today.”

I didn’t argue. Kiln doesn’t see his mother very often, so he needs the time with her.

Arguing with him not to go, anyway, is too much focus away from what I want done for Georgie. The celebration will take place three days before Meggie’s birthday at the clubhouse, but I think Georgie won’t mind. I’m just happy to have it all settled and even happier to have Outlaw driving me to Oregon to drop me off to inspect Georgie’s bus. The guys are behind us in John Boy’s Navigator, too fucking amused at my impatience to return to my wife tomorrow, instead of riding in the tour bus back to Denver. With their own wives to see to, they don’t hang around. Outlaw invites me to see the places where each piece of Crowell is buried.

I decline.

“Dude,” Maitland says, whistling as me, him, Adam and Quint stare at the exterior of the big bus, painted with swirls of black, red, and white. On the top is a phoenix with flames licking at it, as it rises from the inferno. Much like Georgie and I have. It would’ve been a pain in the ass on the sides of the bus, immediately identifiable as belonging to me.

“May I show you the interior, sir?” the owner of the company, Lennox, asks.

I nod, but stop the guys from going forward. “Make sure your fucking shoes are clean.”

“I have runners on,” Quint calls.

“I’m in boots, Sloane,” Adam replies.

“Me, too,” Maitland adds.

“You fucks know what I mean,” I snap. “If there’s one spot on her bus before she sees it, I’m breaking your fucking legs.” Not waiting for another smart ass comment, I stomp forward.

Lennox hurries ahead and unlocks the door, walking to the middle of the bus so the others can board.

“Fuck.”

Proud, I smirk at Quint’s awe. Custom natural stone, maple hardwood, black shades with PR’s #1 Fan in curlicue, curtains with valences, an audio system, television, leather seating, booth-style dinette, a galley with refrigerator and freezer combo, microwave, dual burner stove, and so many other features and amenities in the living area and galley, I’ve forgotten everything.

Leaving the guys, I walk to the next section, checking out the bathroom and the bedroom where Bryn and her nanny will sleep. As much as I know Georgie likes Abby being with her, my aunt has her own life to lead. Entering the master bedroom, I’m more than satisfied at the big bed, upholstered walls, television, lighting, and cabinets. The décor in the bus is cream, but in our room it’s gray and red, still with natural stone. Our private bathroom is a deep green. I think she’ll like it.

In the living area, there are two pullout beds for Kiln and Jason. We’ve agreed that I don’t need to hire a driver until Kiln is no longer with us. Besides, the fucker who got into Dad’s house was never caught.

“Georgie’s going to love this,” Maitland says from behind me.

Facing him, I nod.

“Instead of letting you have all the fun traveling the highways, we’re getting one for ourselves. We either fly together everywhere or we ride together everywhere.”

I grin at him. “Wait until each of you fall for a girl. You’ll want a private bus for her.”

“Love isn’t in my future,” Maitland says with a grunt, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Living isn’t going to be in your future if you smoke in Georgie’s bus,” I growl.

He snickers and rolls his eyes, but turns and leaves.

Following behind him, I glare at his back. An alarm peals through the space, my phone vibrating against me. I frown at the signal that indicates someone has found a way onto the second floor at my house in Denver.

Yanking my phone into my hand, I dial Kiln’s number, praying the warning was activated by accident.

Once Sloane leaves, a cleaning crew arrives. I don’t remember scheduling them, but everything needs freshening up. I hang upstairs until they finish up, then escort them out. Just as I do the scanning to open the door one of the maids tells me she forgot her ID in the master bathroom. She’s an older woman with intense green eyes.

“I’ll get it,” I grouch. As mistrustful as Sloane is of people on this floor, I know he wouldn’t want anyone in our bedroom for a stupid ID. Not sticking around to see who stays to wait with the woman or who leaves to wait outside, I hurry to my bathroom but find nothing. Though I do a quick search, I stomp back to the staircase, finding everyone gone with a little note taped to the door.
My apologies. It was in my pocket.

I go downstairs to the kitchen, finding Abby and Zelda have returned and are discussing a rare chicken with black meat. Listening without comment, I go to Bryn in her swing. Then the conversation turns to liver and onions. Hating liver as I do, the discussion turns my stomach and immediately takes my mind off the maid who sent me on a goose chase.

“Morning, Georgie,” Zelda says cheerfully, unaware of my fragile belly.

“Hey.” I take my daughter into my arms. We smile and communicate as only she and I can before I turn around. “Can we do away with talking about liver?” I grumble, plopping into a seat at the breakfast bar and kissing Bryn’s forehead.

Abby breaks her silence. “Are you hungry, babe?”

I haven’t told Sloane about our conversation and Abby and I haven’t regained the same ease we had around one another. Since Grandma “took care of it,” though I don’t know how because she won’t tell me, Sloane knowing will serve no purpose.
And
it may dampen his relationship with his aunt. He really loves Abby and his dickhole father has caused him enough pain.

She sighs. “Do you think we could study again?”

“Yeah, sure. Maybe we can start after I eat breakfast.” I smile at Zelda. “Can I have country-fried steak with cream gravy and scrambled eggs with mushrooms and parsley?”

Zelda’s brows draw together and I flush at her speculative look. “Anything else?”

“No.”

She nods and walks away, and I breathe a sigh of relief. For some reason, I’m not ready to openly share my pregnancy.

“I have a date with Emory Lawson,” Abby announces, while Zelda digs in the refrigerator and then the freezer, gathering the food she needs.

I bounce Bryn gently. “Tell him I said ‘hi’.”

“I will. Uh, I’m waiting for a call to confirm another photo shoot for you for a layout that features you and the house.”

“I appreciate that.” I shift my weight, disliking the awkwardness between us when we don’t discuss Bryn and photo shoots. “Um, have you picked out what you’re wearing for your date?”