Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(85)

“Hmm?”

“Your old man, darlin’, what he said to me, he was f*ckin’ right. These *s would light themselves on fire if I weren’t here to dump a bucket of water on ’em.”

Eva burst out laughing and he felt his chest loosen and his body warm.

“Fuck, darlin’…”

“What?”

“Nothin’.” He sighed. “Just…darlin’.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, and he found himself holding his breath just so he could hear hers.

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

“Babe,” he said softly. “Yeah.”

EPILOGUE

On my porch, juggling two bags of groceries, my purse, my extraordinarily large belly, and my keys, I tried valiantly to find the one key that would let me inside, allowing me to put down these insanely heavy bags, put on my pajamas, and go straight to bed. I frowned at the bags. What was so heavy anyway? Bread? Milk?

Whatever. Everything was heavy lately and I was always tired.

As are most women in the ninth month of pregnancy.

Although, I was rather lucky. Instead of gaining tens of pounds of weight over the past nine months, all I’d gained was a giant belly, while the majority of my body stayed mostly the same.

The pregnancy had been a planned one. After my kidnapping, Ripper refused to take our relationship at any other speed other than lightning fast.

We were married within a month, a ridiculously small ceremony at the town courthouse, and that night he’d begun trying to get me pregnant. Married at twenty-one and pregnant by twenty-two. It was official. I was a stereotypical small town girl.

But I was Ripper’s old lady.

And I loved every second of it.

“Shit!”

Shifting the bags in my arms, I tried to see where my keys had dropped, but all I could see was my belly.

Crying out in frustration, I turned around, ready to heave everything in my arms off the porch, and ran straight into the large, hard wall that was Ripper.

“Yo,” he said, laughing as he took the bags from me and set them down on the porch. Scooping up my keys, he stood back up and handed them to me.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I glared at him. “Why’s the door locked? Where were you?”

“Chill, baby,” he said, reaching out to brush a sweaty lock of hair off my forehead. “I was out back in the shed.”

“Doing what?” I demanded, although I already knew. He was covered in sweat, grass, and wood chips.

“The usual,” he said nonchalantly. “Fuckin’ whores and killin’ puppies.”

Rolling my eyes, I turned away from him, and this time successfully managed to unlock the door. Ripper grabbed the groceries and followed me inside.

Throwing my purse on the kitchen table, I dropped into the closest chair and groaned.

“I hurt,” I complained dramatically. “Everywhere. And I’m dying of thirst.”

Ripper grinned. “I’m on it, baby.”

After setting the bags down on the counter, he headed for the sink, shirtless, sweaty, and dirty, and I couldn’t help but smile. He’d changed so much that sometimes I didn’t even recognize him. At first I’d thought he was overdoing it because he was terrified of my father, but the more time that passed, I realized that, no, it had nothing to do with my father at all. He’d changed.

And I loved him that much more for it.

“You stop by the club?” he asked, setting a glass of ice water down in front of me, then folding his large body into the chair beside me.

Grabbing the glass, I chugged as much water as I could, gasping for air when I was done.

“Yeah,” I breathed.

“You see Jase?”

I nodded. Everyone was worried about Jase. Almost a year had passed since Dorothy had been shot and her memory still hadn’t returned. Jase’s kids had come home, Chrissy had been tried and convicted of first degree murder and sentenced to life with the possibility of parole, meaning she could end up only serving ten years of a life sentence. I was unsure how I felt about this. As much as I’d liked Chrissy, she’d tried to kill Dorothy.

As for Dorothy’s relationship with Jase, it was non-existent. She didn’t come to the club anymore and refused to see anyone other than Eva, Kami, or me. Every few months Tegen came home to visit with her and her brother, an adorable little boy Dorothy had named after her own father, Christopher Michael Kelley.

And Hawk…

He’d taken Ripper’s place. Still nomad, he’d gone back on the road and would return periodically, but never stayed more than a few days at a time. I knew he saw his son on occasion, but just like Jase, Dorothy wanted nothing to do with him.

And ZZ…he never came back. I got the feeling my father had spoken to him a few times, may even know where he was, but I didn’t ask. ZZ had left because of me and I knew I had no right to any information about him or his whereabouts. But wherever he was, I hoped he was happy.

He deserved to be happy.

“He’s…okay,” I said. “He was drunk, as usual.”

Ripper grimaced. “Brother’s gonna drink himself to death.”

“You didn’t,” I said softly.

He looked into my eyes. “No,” he said, just as softly. “I didn’t.”