Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(76)

“You and Jake.” Rainie rolled her eyes at Josie. “I swear, dominants can’t handle when a submissive is in danger or hurt. Whoa, mama, they go cray-cray.”

“What do you mean?” Josie frowned at Jake’s submissive.

“Like when Zuri’s crazy stalker grabbed me, Jake went all over-protective on my ass.”

“Damn straight,” Jake muttered.

“He kept asking how I felt and…” Rainie looked at Holt. “After your surgery, when you were staying at our place, Jake said he was glad you were there, not just for your recovery, but for mine, too.”

“Your recovery?” Josie leaned over and grasped Rainie’s hand. “Did you get hurt by that man?”

“Not physically.” Rainie wrinkled her nose. “I was just having nightmares.”

“And she refused to go to a counselor.” Jake scowled.

Holt had known about her refusing to get help. Women could sure be fucking stubborn.

Rainie told Josie, “Mr. Paramedic-Nurse there made me work through everything—even though I didn’t want to talk about being kidnapped or scared or anything. He ignored me being rude and just…persisted.”

Josie gave Rainie a worried look. “Did your nightmares go away?”

“They did, thanks to Holt.” Rainie smiled at him. “In case I didn’t say thank you—thank you.”

Jake gave him a nod that said the same thing.

“Seems like I got board and room and care,” Holt said lightly. “I think we’re even.”

On Holt’s lap, Josie turned and curled an arm around his neck…and relaxed completely.

Rainie glanced over, and her lips curved in a pleased smile. She’d known how her story would affect a nervous submissive, hadn’t she? Had realized Josie needed the extra assurance he was trustworthy.

Josie was frowning again, her gaze on his face.

“What, pet?”

“It bothers me…how close you must have come to getting killed.” Her voice was a tiny thin sound. “Did you get help, too? Do you have nightmares?”

The depth of her concern shook him. Pleased him. “A few nightmares, at first.” He stared off at the dark blue Gulf and sighed. “For a while, every time I walked back into the duplex, I had a flashback.”

She stared at him, her beautiful green eyes appalled. “Then why ever did you stay there? Are you insane?”

Holt glanced at Jake. “I think I’ve just been called crazy by two women within five minutes. That’s a record.”

Josie’s eyes narrowed.

He was looking forward to seeing that passion in his bed. “I like the duplex, and I wasn’t going to let the bastard drive me out. It took a while, but the flashbacks are gone.”

“You’re even more stubborn than I realized,” she said under her breath.

“Yes, I am.” He smiled slowly. “Keep that in mind, pet.”

*

In her bedroom, Anne woke to the sound of laughter. Groggily, she yawned. Good, their friends were still here at the barbecue. She could go down and join them…and her Ben.

The crazy man had thrown the party to keep her from fretting about when the baby would get around to arriving.

He’d been right. A party was a hell of a diversion. It was amazing how much energy she’d had while cleaning the house and preparing side dishes. Then, during the barbecue, Cullen and Holt had been full of fire and arson tales, Rainie and Jake with puppy stories from the clinic. Anne hadn’t had a chance to stew about labor.

Later, she’d taken the opportunity to talk with Josie. Alone.

Anne grinned. On the way upstairs, Ben had accused her of planning to interrogate the poor girl to see if she was good enough for Holt.

Her tiger knew her so well. That’d been the plan.

Only, somehow, the discussion had rolled around to pregnancy. And how disconcerting it was to have her athletic body distorted and weakened. To need help for the stupidest things—like putting on shoes. To have back pains and need to pee all the damn time and… Anne shook her head. Rather than an interrogation, she’d ended up confiding in the submissive. And she found out what she needed to know. Holt’s submissive not only had a solid core of practicality and kindness but also listened with her whole heart. Josie would do well for him.

Yes, it’d been a great barbecue, Ben.

Perhaps a bit uncomfortable. Despite the interesting conversations, she’d had to shift positions constantly to relieve the pressure on her back and ease the annoying Braxton Hicks contractions. And it sucked to need a nap like a damn toddler…and to have Ben escort her upstairs, no less.

Son-of-a-bitching, over-protective subbie.

Damn, she loved him.

Rolling over on her back, she stretched. Air ruffled the curtains at the open window, bringing in the heartening scent of ocean and sand. Nothing in the world smelled as fresh. Voices drifted up from the deck. Time to rise and shine, even if the rising part was like juggling a massive watermelon.

I want my body back. There wasn’t any position that was comfortable, and her back always hurt.

“Not that you haven’t been wonderful company,” she murmured and patted her stomach. He or she was quiet today—not trying to roundhouse-kick her bladder every few minutes. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d needed a nap.