Play for Keeps (The Devil's Share #6)(9)

“Deal.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine, rendering me stupid. I loved that woman more than I ever thought possible. I loved that she was pregnant with our child. I loved putting my hand on her stomach and feeling my baby’s little kicks. I loved everything about my life with Dylan.

I watched her walk away, joining the rest of the girls at the island. Lexi, B, and Lo were all sharing a bottle of champagne. No glasses. Just the bottle.

I took my drink out to the front porch where my bandmates were waiting for our ride. “You know your chicks are in there passing around a $500 bottle of champagne like it’s Boone’s Farm?” I sat down in one of their cushioned porch chairs.

Jacks smiled. “They’re celebrating.” He cleared his throat. “I asked B to marry me.”

“No way, man. That’s awesome. Congratulations.” I held my hand out, then reached over and patted him on the back. Jacks and Bryan were perfect for each other. Dash and Lexi’s wedding was weeks away, and Luke had put a giant diamond on Lo’s finger. That just left… “Shit.”

Dash cocked his head. “Congratulations, shit?”

“Dylan and I are the only ones not engaged.” I downed the rest of my whiskey, suddenly feeling uneasy. “Do you think she feels left out? Do you think it’s making her sad? I need to propose.”

“Dill knows how much you love her, bro.” Luke took the glass from my hand and sat it on the porch railing before I dropped it. “If she wanted to get married, she’d tell you.”

Jacks nodded. “You guys are perfect together, man, and she’s having your baby. You’re starting a family, I’m sure that’s all that is on her mind right now.”

They were probably right. We had so much going on between the move, the baby, and starting Riffraff in Austin. Life had been chaos. But still, it was time. I wanted to marry her, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. She was an angel, a saint.

I was a hard man to love, but she did.

And she deserved it all. The perfect ring. The perfect proposal.

The perfect moment.

***

Turned out the charity we were supporting tonight was for battered women and children. Talk about a knife to the heart. Holy shit. Hearing the survivors’ stories, seeing pictures of the kids…it was gut-wrenching. Reporters on the red carpet had a field day calling out personal question after personal question.

Smith, was it your tumultuous childhood that made you support this cause?

My father was an abusive drug addict who killed my mother. It took me over six months in therapy to understand that my mother’s death wasn’t my fault. And another three months to work through my residual anger with my father.

I was glad we were donating money to this particular charity. These women and their kids needed a way out, a safe place. But there was no way I was leaving through the front entrance. No amount of therapy could prepare anyone to have their horrible violent childhood thrown in their face like that. I leaned down and spoke next into Dylan’s ear, “Will you please call tomorrow and donate an extra $50,000?”

“Of course.” She smiled and kissed the back of my hand, the one she’d been holding since we walked in. “I’m sorry I didn’t read the press release more carefully, babe. I should have given you a heads-up about the survivor stories.”

“We both got the same email, cher. I could have read it too. There is absolutely nothing for you to apologize for.” I tipped back the rest of my whiskey, my second and final one of the night. I’d let go of all my vices, except for a good stiff drink every once in a while. “It’s eight-thirty, you know what that means?”

“You’re finally ready to dance with your girlfriend?”

“No. It means we get to leave in thirty minutes.” I winked, but led her out to the dance floor. She wanted to dance? I’d dance with her all night. One dance here, and a million more in the middle of our living room.

I took her in my arms, dancing slowly to the beat of the music. I didn’t want her to overdo it, she’d been on her feet too long today already. She looked up at me, smiling. “Thank you, babe. You really are a great…”

Her words trailed off and she put one of her hands on her stomach. I chuckled. “My baby kicking around in there? Must be ready to go to, like its daddy. I’ll round up everyone else.” I turned to head to the bar, where all my bandmates were posted up, but Dylan reached out and grabbed my hand. Squeezing it tightly. “Hey, you okay?”

She just shook her head.

“Cher, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” I felt my blood turn cold. I’m sure all the color drained from my face. The look of panic on hers was the scariest thing I’d ever seen.

“My stomach, the baby. I need to get to the hospital, now.” She kept one hand on her bump and slowly walked to the nearest chair, lowering herself down. She doubled over in pain, crying out and nearly breaking my hand. “I need for you to get the car, and then send Lexi over here. Okay?”

I was frozen. My heart was racing and I felt like I was going to throw up all over the floor. This was my biggest fear. The thing I had nightmares about, over and over. Something happening to Dylan, or something happening to the baby. For some reason, until this moment, it never even crossed my mind that I could lose them both at the same time.