Be My Hero (Forbidden Men #3)(61)

My chest suddenly felt tight and I wanted to cry. A guy like Pick—who'd beaten up Alec because he'd tried to kill my baby, who'd taken on the care of an infant he knew wasn't his, who'd held me in his arms to comfort me—deserved a true love match, a wife who adored him.

My crush on him grew even stronger. If only I'd known him the night I'd met Alec "the Bastard" Worthington. But even if I had, I probably still would've gone after Alec, because I'd been stupid and prejudiced. All I would've seen in Pick were his bad-boy tattoos and non-branded clothes. I would've labeled him a sleazy loser. But Alec was the true loser, and Pick was the sweetest, most honorable man I'd ever met.





Chapter 15


EVA


As soon as she could breathe, eat, and stay warm on her own, Skylar was discharged from the hospital. She was twenty days old when I was finally able to take her home.

I'd only had to stay for a week myself. After my kidneys decided to function on their own again, they'd kicked me out two days later. It was the hardest thing in the world to leave the hospital without my baby, my little girl who'd been with me for the past seven and half months. So, usually I just stuck around there all day, annoying the nurses with every question under the sun. I think they were patient with me only because they knew I was Pick's friend.

For Skylar's situation, her doctor didn't foresee any long-term problems. He warned me she'd probably have some delays in developments, maybe a little trouble in school. But physically, she was fine.

That first night with her home was rough, and not because Skylar was fussy. In fact, she was a dream come true compared to some of the new-baby horror stories I'd read. I actually had to wake her a few times for her scheduled feedings. What made it rough was that I couldn't stop worrying. I popped out of bed to check on her every time she moved or breathed a little too loudly.

Before the night was over, I shifted her crib until it was squished against my bed, so she was no longer all the way across the room from me. I could only fall asleep when I slid my hand through the crib's slats and rested my fingers on her. If I hadn't feared I might roll over and accidentally suffocate her, I would've kept her in bed with me.

Morning came before I knew it, and I woke to what I swore was the sound of Pick's laughter. At first, I thought it was part of the lovely dream I was having. He was holding Skylar, telling her what a princess she was, right before she passed gas.

He threw his head back and laughed. I thought he'd add something like, "Princess of Gas," but instead he said, "Christ, Lowe. I can't believe you actually bought this piece of shit."

My lashes fluttered open, and my bedroom at Reese's duplex came into focus. Daylight bounced off the pale walls, telling me it was no longer five in the morning, which was the last time I'd been awake with Skylar. The curtains shifted, letting in a warm spring breeze because I'd left the window open all night. The light gust dusted my cheeks, making me smile.

These past few hours were the most sleep I'd had all night. My body ached and I needed to take my pain meds, plus my milk-logged breasts were on fire and hard as stones. I was in the worst physical condition of my life, and yet I couldn't remember feeling so content.

Then I heard Pick's voice again. "I'm frankly surprised the thing is still running. Have you looked at this engine?"

I bolted upright in bed. Oh my God! Pick was here, right outside my window.

Oh my God times two. That hurt. Oh, hell . . . Ouch. That really hurt.

Wrapping my arm around my middle as white-hot pain slashed across my healing C-section incision, I gasped and tried to breathe through the waves of agony. But, wow. Sitting up too fast after you'd had your gut cut open did not feel good. It didn't help that my abdomen was still bruised from where Alec had punched me, but this . . . this had come straight from that stapled-together line.

"I wasn't there when Reese bought it." Mason's voice floated in through the window behind Pick's. "It was sitting in the drive by the time I got home from class."

"Want me to help you beat the hell out of the * who sold it to her?"

I smiled softly. It should probably bother me that Pick was so ready to use his fists, but that very trait about him had saved me and my child's life. I couldn't help but cherish it instead.

"God, no," Mason muttered. "I've seen how you beat the hell out of people. I'll pass. Just see if you can get this thing safe enough to drive."

"You got it. Hey, do you want—"

But Pick didn't get to finish the question, because another voice broke in, this one loud and obnoxious. "Yo, mother f*ckers! Wuz up?"

Hearing the newcomer made me tilt my head in curiosity. Whoever it was sounded vaguely familiar.

Mason obviously wasn't expecting more company, because he said, "What the hell are you guys doing here?" I guessed more than one person had just walked up the driveway to visit him.

"I heard Pick got a golden invitation to your house and I was feeling left out."

"I'm only here because Ten was my ride to football this morning," another voice chimed in. "We started summer practice today, so I was dragged along without consent. Don't worry; I'll be out of your hair soon. My girl's going to swing by and pick me up in a few minutes."