Battle Hearts Page 2
I laugh at that. “Yeah, he does, and you’re right; he wants us there fifteen minutes early. I’m pretty sure, though, that he really only wants us there five minutes early so he says fifteen minutes because he knows if he tells me five minutes early, we’ll be five minutes late.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure of that too.”
“I’ll call you later and let you know how we go. Thank you for calling. I needed to hear your voice.”
We end the call, and I fix my face as I think about how lucky I am to have both Winter and Cleo in my life. I couldn’t do anything as well as I do it without either of them. And Cleo’s right: I need to remember that just showing up is the bravest thing I can do. Really, that’s all I have to keep doing. Our doctor will guide us through everything we have to do, and Winter will hold my hand every step of the way. I’ve just gotta keep showing up. And keep holding faith, which honestly might be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But if Winter can do it, so can I.
“You ready, angel?” Winter’s voice cuts through my thoughts and I turn to face him.
Smiling, I nod. “Yes.”
He returns my smile and holds out his hand. “Let’s do this.”
Winter parks the car and cuts the engine before looking at me, his eyes filled with love as he says, “You good?”
My head is swimming after seeing our doctor. Nothing new was discussed during the appointment; however, Dr McLeod did mention one thing that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.
“She said that IVF is only as good as the eggs are,” I say. “What if my eggs are bad?”
“What she said was that age is the biggest factor in the eggs, Birdie. She also said that thirty-four is a lot better than if you were forty. Don’t latch onto only one part of what she says. She was trying to be positive for us.”
“I know, but you asked if I’m good, and I’m just telling you where my head is at right now. I can’t stop thinking about this.”
“What will help take your mind off it?”
This is the thing Winter doesn’t get. Nothing will take my mind off any of this. It’s pretty much what I think about from the minute I wake to the minute I go to sleep at night. Even when I’m trying to focus on work stuff, I struggle to stop thinking about IVF. But I understand that his mind works differently to mine, so I try to let him help me shift my attention whenever he attempts to do that. Today I’m not so sure either of us will succeed in that endeavour.
“I’m going to go into work for a few hours. That’ll help.”
He frowns. “I thought you were taking today off.”
“I was going to. A few hours, though, is probably what I need to centre myself after this morning.”
After thinking about that for a moment, he nods. “Okay, but I don’t want you there for longer than those few hours.”
I lean over and kiss him. “There’s my bossy man.”
“I’m deadly serious, Birdie, and I’ll be calling you to make sure you’re out of there by three.”
He knows me too well. I may have said a few hours, but we both know I’m incapable of only working a few hours.
I grab my handbag and open the car door. “I don’t doubt it.”
He follows me inside the house. When we reach the kitchen, I place my bag on the counter and say, “Do you want some lunch before you head into the clubhouse?”
“No, I’ll grab something later.”
“We’ve got leftovers from dinner. I’ll pack it up for you to take.” IVF is expensive and we’re on a tight budget, so I like to make Winter lunch each day.
“I can do it, angel. You go and—”
“It won’t take me long.”
“Birdie,” he starts, his tone turning forceful. I know where he’s going with this and I don’t want it, so I cut him off again.
“Winter, let me care for you as much as you’re caring for me. Please.”
He stares at me quietly for a beat. Then, nodding, he says, “I’ve gotta make a few calls and then I’ll be leaving.”
I walk to him and slip my arms around his waist. “Thank you.” I know how hard it is for Winter not to assume total command and to accept help, so I know what it means when he relents and lets me care for him.
He cups the back of my head and kisses me. “I’ll be home early tonight.”
That’s his way of saying “clear your schedule for me,” and I love every one of those words. “I’ll be here.”
“Good,” he says before letting me go and exiting the kitchen.
I exhale more of the breath I’m still full of.
You’ve just gotta keep showing up.
You can do this.
I straighten my shoulders.
I can and I will do this.
3
Winter
* * *
“What time do you wanna leave for Ballarat tomorrow?” Ransom asks as I’m leaving to go home to Birdie. It’s been a long afternoon going over the club shit we’re dealing with, and all I wanna do is get home to my woman and shut the world out for the night.
“I’ll be here around eight in the morning. That work for you?” Ransom is a single dad, and I know some mornings aren’t good for early starts because he’s gotta drop his daughter at school.
“Yeah, sounds good.” He pauses for a moment before asking, “How’s Birdie?”
I keep very few secrets from my men, and while I don’t sit around discussing shit all day long, I’ve kept them in the loop on the fact Birdie and I are doing IVF because it’s going to impact on my work time. Because Ransom and I are close after serving together in the military, I give him the extended version of the answer to his question. “She’s anxious. Today’s fear is that her eggs won’t be any good.” Ransom’s sister has been through IVF, so he’s spent some time talking to me about the process and will understand Birdie’s fear.
“Janine went through that. Trust me, she’ll have something new to worry about soon enough.”
My phone rings and I see it’s King. “I gotta take this,” I say to Ransom. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Stepping outside, I answer the call. “King.”
“You free at the end of the week? I’m setting up a meeting with Torres and I want you there.”
Javier Torres works for the Estrada Cartel, who King is negotiating with to supply Storm with coke. “Yeah. What day?”
He gives me the details and then says, “Come prepared, brother.”
Torres isn’t known for easy dealings, but as much as I know King would rather deal with someone else, Torres brings a lot to the table. Mostly, though, he brings a lot of fucking unpredictability, so going in fully prepared for anything is essential.
We end the call and I make my way to my bike, my mind turning over all the things I need to take care of this week. I’m going to have to rearrange some of it and maybe reschedule some things because it’s a busy week for the club, but I want to be home more than usual in case Birdie needs me.
Twenty minutes later, I pull into the driveway of our home and find Birdie in the front yard on the phone while pulling weeds from the rose garden she loves. She glances up at me and smiles as I walk her way. When I reach her, she grabs my shirt and stands on her toes to plant a kiss on my lips. “You’re home early,” she whispers while still listening to whoever is on the other end of the phone.
Jerking my chin at the phone, I ask, “Who’re you talking to?”
Still keeping hold of my shirt, she says into the phone, “Cleo, I have to go. My husband came home early and I need to break the bad news to him about what I did.”
Cleo says her goodbyes while I narrow my eyes at Birdie, wondering what she’s done that is bad enough to be deemed bad news. The last time I arrived home to this kind of news, she’d ripped our kitchen apart in our old house. Christ help me if she’s done something as extreme today; we’ve got enough on our plate.
“What have you done?” I ask as soon as she’s off the phone.
She press
es herself to me and loops both hands around my neck. “How much do you love me?”
I place my hand on her ass. “I’m not answering that until I know what I’m up against here.”
Grinning, she says, “You make it sound so serious.”
“You’re saying it’s not?”
“It depends.”
“Fuck, Birdie, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Well,” she starts, drawing it out, “it depends on how much you want a roast meal tonight versus how much you want me.”
“The answer to that question shouldn’t be one you even need to think about, angel.”
Her hands tighten around my neck. “I figured that, but things can change, so—”
I bend my mouth to hers and kiss her. “That will never change,” I say, growing hard for her. “What’s changed for you, though, between this morning and now?”
“I got out of my head when I went to work.”
“Thank fuck you went to work.”
“And to think you tried to boss me into not going.”
I scoop her into my arms, catching her off guard and eliciting one of her squeals of delight that I live for. Walking her inside, I say, “So the bad news is that there’s no roast meal tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Because you were conserving your energy for sex?”
“Correct again.”
“And there’s no other bad news?”
Her brows pull together in question. “No. Why?”
We pass the lounge room and then the kitchen, and I note that Birdie has cleaned them both to the point of spotlessness. This is something she does when she’s anxious. “Just making sure I’m not going to find any rooms in the house you’ve started renovating.”
She playfully smacks my chest. “You told me it was a good thing I started that kitchen reno.”
I chuckle as we enter our bedroom. “It was, but don’t go getting any ideas for this week or even this month. A renovation is the last thing we need right now.”
“Winter Morrison, you need to—”
Placing her down, I silence her with a finger to her lips before reaching up to undo the bun she’s got her hair in. I want that hair down so I can grip it while I fuck her. “Baby, it’s time for a little less talking.”
“You want my mouth around your dick instead?”
Hooking my finger under the thin strap of her dress, I say, “You should try harder to read my mind more often.” I drop a kiss to her bare shoulder after I slide the strap down. “Your mouth on my dick is something I’ve thought about at least ten times today.”
Her hands go to my belt and undo it. “Only ten? I need to up my game.”
“I’m not opposed to that.” I hiss as she makes fast work of getting her hand in my pants and around my dick. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Her eyes remain glued to mine as she works my dick. “You know what would feel better?”
“Tell me.” I slide the other strap of her dress over her shoulder and watch as the flimsy material falls to the floor.
Birdie brings her spare hand to my chin and tilts my face back up so our eyes meet again. “I’m pretty sure my tongue would feel better.” She kneels. “Like, if I did this”—she licks the length of my cock and then circles her tongue over the head a few times—“I think you’d like that a lot more than my hand.”
My head falls back as the pleasure spreads through every vein in my body. “Show me what else you’ve got, angel.”
She repeats what she did, slowly and fucking skilfully until I can barely restrain myself. Birdie knows my body well and stops when she reaches the point where she knows I’m about to blow. Rising from her knees, she says, “I love you, Winter.”
The look in her eyes and the tone of her voice throw me. She might be telling me she wants sex, and she might be doing everything to make me think she wants this, but there’s something else going on here. And as much as I want nothing more than to come in her mouth and then fuck her for hours, I need to slow this down so I can get to the bottom of what’s really going on.
When she nabs the bottom of my shirt to lift it up, I stop her. “I love you too, Birdie.”
She cocks her head as I refuse to let her remove my shirt. “You don’t wanna get naked with me?”
“That is exactly what I wanna do with you, but first I wanna know what you’re thinking.”
Misunderstanding, she hits me with a sexy smile. “I’m thinking your dick—”
I shake my head. “No, I wanna know what else you’re thinking about besides fucking me.”
Something passes in her eyes, something I can’t get a good read on, and instead of sharing it with me, she says, “Right now, the only thing I’m thinking about is fucking you.”
I know my wife, so I know when she’s trying to force something she’s not feeling, and that’s what she’s doing here. “Angel, fucking me might be something you think you wanna do or something you think you should do because I want it, but it’s not what you actually want to do. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
She takes a step back, away from me, but I quickly pull her close again. She fights me on that, though, and says, “Let me go, Winter.”
I keep hold of her. “No. Start talking, Birdie.”
Her face fills with annoyance. “God, you can be infuriating sometimes. I just wanted us to have sex and to forget everything else going on for a few hours, but now you suddenly want to talk.”
“Suddenly? I’ve been talking for weeks. Months.”
“Yes, but only because I’ve initiated all that talk. You can’t tell me you love it and prefer it over getting your hands on me.”
Fuck, when Birdie gets like this, we enter dangerous territory. She’s looking for a fight, and the only time she does that is when she’s either trying to avoid thinking about shit that’s bringing her down or when she’s pissed off with me over something completely different to what she’s picking a fight over. So generally, whatever we end up fighting over has fucking nothing to do with anything. Right now, we can’t afford to be fighting over dumb shit so I need to end this before it escalates.
“You’re trying to forget about IVF tonight?” I ask.
“Don’t change the subject,” she snaps.
“This is the subject.”
“No, we’re discussing the fact you don’t like to talk about things.”
“No, that’s the thing you want me to think we’re talking about, angel. What we’re really talking about is your anxiety over the fact we’re about to start shooting your body up with a whole heap of shit in an effort to make a baby that you’re worried we’ll never make.” I soften my voice and run my fingers through her hair. “I’m worried about all of that, too.”
She turns silent for a few moments and I wait for her response. Finally, she exhales the kind of breath a person releases when they’ve been holding it for a long time. “Thank you,” she says softly. “I know you already went over this with me this morning, but I needed to hear you say it again.” She exhales again. “God, I’m going to go crazy during this, aren’t I? And I’m going to send you crazy, too.”
“Yeah to all of that, but I didn’t go into this thinking anything different would happen. And as far as going over this with you, I’ll do it multiple times a day if I need to. What I don’t want is for us to fight over dumb shit instead of talking about what’s really going on.”
“I’m sorry I made out like you don’t want to talk about stuff. I didn’t mean it.”
“Well, it is true that I’d prefer to get my hands on you over talking any day.”
Finally, she gives me a smile, and I know all is okay. “Most days I’d prefer that too.”
“Just not at the moment, right?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, but—”
“No buts, Birdie. I’m committed to this and to whatever we both need to see it through.” I pull her close again. “How about we order some dinner in and watch a movie together tonight?”
&
nbsp; Her smile spreads and lights up my whole damn world. “I would love that.”
I kiss her, long and slow. I may not be able to have her in the way I want tonight, but I’ll take what I need in other ways. When I’m done with her lips, I lightly smack her ass. “You go choose a movie while I order dinner.”
She’s almost out of the bedroom when she turns back to me. “You didn’t have to agree with me that I was going to send you crazy.”
I grin. “It’s the God’s honest truth, angel, and I wouldn’t choose anything different.”
4
Birdie
* * *
“What is that bloody awful music I can hear, darling?” Mum asks during our FaceTime chat the next day. We facetimed twice yesterday and I’m fairly certain I see a lot of it in my future. I need her and she needs to know I’m doing okay. Living so far from each other is one of the hardest things for me about living in Melbourne.
“What? You don’t love Eminem?”
She pulls a face. “God, no. Maybe you could turn him down. Or off.”
“Remind me the next time I’m in Sydney to introduce you to some new music. It’s time we broadened your taste.”
“So long as none of it sounds like that rubbish.”
I laugh as I turn the music off. I love stirring my mother. “Okay, now that we have silence, you need to tell me all about your date last night. And don’t leave anything out.” Mum’s been dating up a storm the last month, finally getting back into the swing of it after having her heart broken again.
“Oh, I will, but first I wanna know how you’re feeling about your first injection tonight. And how Winter’s feeling about it, too.”
I pick at the tablecloth on the dining room table where I’m sitting. My nerves are running amok today and I’m fidgety. Tonight, we’re starting the injections that will suppress my hormones in preparation for the injections that will stimulate follicle growth. “Every time I open the fridge and see the drugs in there, my tummy goes all weird. I’m kinda at the point where I don’t know how I really feel anymore, Mum. I’m both excited and terrified.”