Stone (Knights Corruption MC Series Book 2) (31 page)

Stone

“I’m not so sure this is such a great idea, Addy.” I tried to reason with her but for some reason she chose to ignore me, flitting about our bedroom and searching for her other sandal.

“You’ll be fine,” she soothed, excited when she’d finally located the missing shoe. Strapping it into place, she stalked toward me with purpose. Standing on her tiptoes, she linked her fingers around the back of my neck and pressed her mouth to mine. Her tongue drifted across my bottom lip, the sensations of lust and need spiraling through me in mere seconds. All it took was a simple touch and I was prepared to throw her down on the bed and fuck her like I hadn’t seen her in weeks.

“Stop trying to distract me,” I growled, capturing her mouth for a quick kiss before pushing her back. “Besides, I need my wits about me if I’m gonna meet your father. I have no doubt that once he finds out I’m part of the club he’ll be pissed. I would be if I were him.”

“What does that mean?” Her confused look would have been funny if she hadn’t been so serious. Tugging on the hem of her blue jersey dress, the color making her eyes pop, she backed away from me, her gaze pinned to mine.

“You know damn well what it means.” She remained silent, forcing me to explain further. “He’s gonna look at me as nothing more than a criminal, stealing his daughter’s future before it even starts. And sometimes I think he’d be right to think such things.” I couldn’t believe I’d voiced my insecurities, thoughts which sometimes buried me in self-doubt. But it was the truth. I regretted my choice of words as soon as I saw a single tear dance down her cheek. Reaching out to calm her before she became more distressed, I tried to grab her hand but she quickly retreated.

“Don’t say those things,” she whispered, breaking eye contact and looking down at her swollen belly. “It makes me think you’ll leave me. If you think you’ll ruin me . . . you’ll disappear, and I don’t know how I would live if you ever did that to me.” The desperation in her voice struck a severe chord with me. I wasn’t used to her appearing vulnerable, sickness and pregnancy alike. She was always strong, pigheaded even. Never exposed.

When I tried to make contact again, she withdrew further, but before she fled the room, my fingers latched around her arm to halt her. Pulling her to me, I kissed the top of her head and poured my heart out. I needed to make sure she knew I wasn’t going anywhere before she worried herself to death. She had enough on her plate; she didn’t need to add
me
to the list, or the future of our relationship. In reality, if anyone left it would be her, when she was finally fed up with me. Another thing I would never seriously let happen.

Addy was mine forever, and no one would get in the way of that.

Including either one of us.

I directed her face upward until I could see her eyes. Placing a lingering kiss on her lips, I spewed out everything I was thinking. My thoughts were all over the place so what came out of my mouth was jumbled, but it made sense to me.

“I’ll never leave you. Ever. I don’t care what your father thinks or even what I think from time to time. Are you too good for me? Absolutely. But does the selfish part of me care? I should . . . but I don’t. You’re mine. End of story. I’ll piss you off countless times over the course of our life together, but I’ll apologize and hopefully you won’t get sick of hearing the words.” More tears leaked from her eyes, my own becoming glassy at seeing her so upset. “I love you. Now and forever. Nothing will change that, I promise. If anything, I’ll probably have to live with Marek from time to time because you’ll get sick of me and kick me out.” While I tried to lighten the conversation with a joke, I was being completely serious at the same time. I could clearly envision Addy demanding a few days alone to allow her anger toward me to lessen, for whatever reason.

Her arms wrapped tightly around my waist while her head pressed against my chest. “He’ll make you stay at the clubhouse instead.” There was no laughter in her voice, even though what she said was a comical retort.

“Yup. You’re probably right. And every night away from you and our son will be torture. So I’ll do my best not to let that happen.”

I hugged her back with a fierceness that showed her I was serious about everything I’d said, all while not crushing her belly.

“If we don’t get goin’, your father is surely gonna blame me.”

“Fine, fine,” she mumbled, snatching a short-sleeved sweater from the chair to go over her dress. The weather outside was beautiful, but the sun was going to dip below the horizon soon enough, and although I would still find it warm out, Addy would get the chills. One of the many side effects from her treatment.

Over an hour later, we pulled up in front of her father’s house, arriving later than I’d wanted because I needed to take a detour toward the clubhouse in order to check in on some business. What I thought was going to be a quick stop turned out to be an ordeal. Trigger and I had words . . . again. As soon as he laid eyes on his niece and the ever-growing proof I went against his steadfast rule, he had no qualms about telling me what he thought of me. His anger toward me didn’t affect me in the least—what was done was done. Addy was mine now, and there was nothing he could do about it. He’d exacted the punishment he thought was fitting by shooting me, and if he didn’t move on soon . . . I’d force him to do so.

How? I had no idea, but I was sure with the help of my friend, and president, we’d come up with something. Plus, every time he said something to me in front of Addy he managed to upset her. And that was unacceptable.

Coming around to her side of the truck, I opened her door and extended my hand. Once I felt the warmth of her skin on mine, I relaxed. Sort of. As tough as I tried to appear, there was nothing that would calm my nerves about meeting her father. Someone who was gonna judge me before he even heard me speak. Someone who was instantly gonna think I was unworthy of his daughter, strictly because I wasn’t him. Fathers always wanted to be the only men in their daughter’s lives, solely because no one else could ever measure up.

Plus, I was the man who’d knocked up his little girl.

Yeah, this is what I’m up against.

Clasping her hand in mine, she walked beside me as we approached the front door. I wouldn’t give in to the erratic thumping of my heart, or the heavy quick breaths which bombarded me with each step forward. I refused to let Addy or her father see me sweat. If I deserved her, and I did, I had to man up and get through the dinner unscathed.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said, raising her fist to knock on the door. Her nervousness was apparent in the back-and-forth shuffle of her feet while she waited for her father to answer.

“Well, considering the only thing I had to eat today was pussy, I could certainly go for some food.”

The door flung open before Addy could respond, her eyes wide and staring right at me with a mixture of surprise and humor.

“Addy, honey. You know you don’t have to knock,” her father told her, stepping forward and bringing her in for a hug. We were still holding hands, but were separated in order to allow her to return her father’s embrace. I continued to stand on the threshold of his home while he greeted his daughter, his gaze never once resting on me. Not until Addy made the official introductions.

“Dad, this is Stone . . . I mean Lincoln Crosswell.” Turning her head toward me, she said, “This is my father. Brian Reins.”

We assessed each other in mere seconds. He sized me up and while I returned the favor, I patiently waited for him to welcome me. Extending my hand in greeting first, a few palpable seconds passed before he took it. The next breath to leave my lips was one of relief.

While it was ungodly warm outside, I chose to wear a long-sleeved white shirt, mainly to hide the fact my arms were completely covered with ink. I also thought it would be smart if I left my KC cut at home, not wanting to shove the fact I was involved in a club he would surely have an issue with.

First impressions and all.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asked, his hand instinctually finding her swollen belly. “While your mother constantly complained she felt like a beached whale, she never looked more beautiful than when she was carrying you.” A quick look of love and sadness erupted behind his eyes. “You have that same look,” he confessed.

“Of a beached whale?” she teased.

“Oh, stop it. You know damn well you look beautiful.” He leaned down and kissed her temple before ushering her toward a seat in the kitchen.

His focus was mainly kept on his daughter, but after a little while, he knew he had to pay me some kind of attention. My first impression of Brian Reins wasn’t of rudeness or aloofness, but one of a man portraying the alpha male. He was letting me know I meant nothing to him, that he was in control and I was now on his territory.

Trust me, I understood. More than I wanted to. But it didn’t erase the fact that, although he thought he had the upper hand, he didn’t. Not anymore. I’d already claimed my woman, my child growing inside her as proof. For as much as I wanted to pound my chest and declare being top dog, I knew it was Neanderthal-like. And downright immature. I was more secure in myself than that, although I had questioned my worth a few times before we’d arrived.

He turned his attention to me after holding the chair out for his very pregnant daughter. And it was then he chose to engage me in conversation. Finally.

“Why in God’s name are you wearing a long-sleeved shirt?” he asked, pinning his eyes to mine and crossing his arms over his chest. His question may have sounded innocent enough, but every word spoken was calculated. From the moment he opened his mouth, he was judging me. And honestly . . . I didn’t blame him.
If Addy and I have a daughter someday, I’ll probably be worse, never allowing any male to come near her.

Addy spoke up before I could say anything. “Dad, he’s trying to be respectful.”

“What does that mean?” her father asked, frowning at his daughter’s answer. I was sure all sorts of things went through his head, and before he lost himself to the catacombs of possibilities, I parted my lips and answered.

“I’m covered in tats, and since Addy told me you don’t have any of your own, I didn’t want to offend you by making you stare at mine the entire time.”

Leaning back against the kitchen counter, his eyes roamed over me. Head to toe. I was sure I was quite the sight. My hair was shaved on the sides, my blond strands longer on top and fashioned back in a Mohawk kind of style. My beard, although shorter than I normally wore it, was long. And mix in that I was covered in ink . . . well, I wasn’t the ideal choice for the likes of his daughter. So I wore long sleeves to hide at least one of those things.

“Nonsense. I don’t have any because I could never find something I wanted permanently marked on my body. But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a piece of art when I see it.” His body relaxed, his arms drifting down and coming to rest at his sides. Nodding, he gave me a lazy grin before turning around to check on whatever food he’d put in the oven.

His noncommittal acceptance was gonna be short-lived, however.

Adelaide

At first, I thought my father was going to deny Stone entry into his house. He’d told me on previous visits that he wasn’t looking forward to meeting the man who got me pregnant. The man who didn’t have the decency to come to him, like he ought to, and ask for my hand in marriage. To do the right thing.

My father, although only fifty, was extremely old-fashioned. He believed that men and women shouldn’t live together before marriage, and should definitely not have children unless they were legally committed to each other. And if such a thing happened, as in my case, the man should make an honest woman out of his future child’s mother.

We’d argued on a few occasions when I told him I didn’t want to rush things, and that I wasn’t going to get married just because he thought it was the right thing to do. In the beginning, Stone had agreed with me, but as my belly grew, he’d mentioned getting married more and more. I was also convinced that because I was sick, it fueled his urge to make me his wife.