Beyond the Cut (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #2)(74)
“Had it made when we replaced the door.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t think to ask?”
“You’re my old lady. I need easy access.” He kept his voice low as he walked toward her, his handsome face partially obscured by the shadows. “What are you doing on the floor?”
“I’ve waited so long to have them back, spent so many nights imagining they were here, after I put them to bed, I couldn’t leave. I want to watch them in case it isn’t real or in case it doesn’t last and they’re suddenly taken away.” She pressed a fist to her mouth. “I’m so confused, Cade. One moment I’m bursting with joy, and the next I’m terrified I’ll lose them again. I don’t think I could bear it.”
A pained expression crossed Cade’s face and he sat on the floor beside her, his leather creaking as he put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest.
“What are you doing?”
“Keeping you company.”
“Cade…” She tried to push away, but he held her tight. “You don’t have to do this. If you want to stay, you can take my bed.”
“There aren’t many precious moments in life, babe.” He stroked his fingers over her bare arm. “Best to appreciate them when they happen, and even better if you’re not alone. We’ll watch them together. Keep them safe.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You want to sit on a cold, hard floor all night watching two little girls sleep?”
“Maia and Tia,” he said. “Not just two little girls. Your girls. And I know you’re worried. That’s why I’m here for as long as you need me.”
Dawn tried to wrap her mind around the fact a big, badass biker was sitting on the floor with her, in a room full of princess toys. Not only that, he seemed prepared to stay. “That’s very sweet.”
Cade chuckled. “For a sinner.”
“You have a good heart for a sinner. Strong, brave, loyal. And you’re not so bad in bed.”
Dawn leaned up and nuzzled his neck. Cade groaned.
“Don’t start something that can’t be finished in here with your kids. I’m supposed to get a reward for good behavior. Not a punishment.”
“I’ll just sit here and dream up a suitable reward.”
But when he tucked her under his arm and settled her back against his chest, Dawn knew he understood. Now she needed her girls. Later was for him.
*
Cade startled awake when Dawn placed a hand on his shoulder. Last thing he remembered, he’d carried her to bed, fast asleep, then come back to watch over the girls.
“What are you still doing here?” She kept her voice to a low hush so she didn’t wake the children.
“Thought I’d keep watch after you fell asleep.” He pushed himself to his feet and Dawn reached up and stroked a hand along his jaw, rough with a five o’clock shadow.
“That’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“That mean it’s time for my reward?” He slid a hand over her hip and along the edge of those damn sexy shorts she wore to bed. He loved her in those shorts. Probably more than he loved her in lingerie.
“You did this for sex?”
Cade leaned down and kissed her. “I did it for you.”
Dawn clasped his hand and led him out of the room and down the hallway.
Cade lasted thirty seconds watching her lush ass peeking from the bottom of the shorts, and then lust destroyed the last of his patience. Can’t wait. In one quick motion, he scooped her up, and threw her over his shoulder.
“Hey, put me down.” She wriggled against him and his groin tightened. Christ. He’d listened to the brothers with old ladies complain about their women dressing down once they had kids, but now he understood. If he had to watch her walking around in those shorts every day, he’d be sporting a permanent erection not appropriate for family viewing.
“You got a perfect ass.” Cade squeezed her cheek. “I can hardly wait to get both hands on it.”
Once in her bedroom, he dropped her on the bed and immediately turned to check out her room. Feminine but not frilly. Modern but not austere. She’d clearly worked hard to fix it up, and if he hadn’t known to look for signs of the break-in, he wouldn’t have been able to tell the room had been totally destroyed.
He liked the ornate wrought-iron headboard, and the pristine white duvet, not so much the purple silk cushions scattered on the bed since they served no useful purpose and would inevitably wind up on the floor. The clean white lines of her night table and dresser appealed to his taste for simpler things, and of course he checked out the framed pictures of her kids and friends. No pictures of Benson, he was pleased to note, or of Mad Dog. And no pictures of her parents.
“What’s with the cuckoo clock?” He pointed to the gingerbread-house-style clock on the wall, so at odds with the rest of the decor.
She blushed. “My grandparents on my mother’s side were from Bavaria. When I ran away from my uncle, I left behind all my mementos, but I saw this clock in a pawnshop and it was almost identical to the one my parents had in our kitchen. I was surprised Jimmy didn’t destroy it.”
“If it makes any noise when I’m inside you, I might have to rip it off the wall.”