This time, before he can get my shirt off, his cellphone rings. He freezes and looks at me. “The only p-p-people that c-c-call me is m-m-my f-f-family.”
It could be my imagination, but I see reluctance on his face. I try to reassure him, touching his face gently. “Go ahead. We can pick up where we left off.”
His eyes twinkle. He gives me a quick kiss and turns to get his phone. I bite down on my bottom lip, still tasting him and wanting him back.
“Y-y-yeah?” Thomas says and I bury my head in his chest to keep from laughing loudly. You can tell he’s not happy we were interrupted and he’s not even bothering to hide it. My laughter gives way to even more happiness when he kisses the top of my head. God, it should be against the law for a man to be so perfect.
“S-s-slow down. Is s-s-she okay?”
I feel him tense and pull away. Whatever the person on the other side of the phone is saying, it’s not good news.
“Okay, yeah,” he says, and I feel helpless. I squeeze his hand so that he knows I’m here if he needs me. He looks up and does his best to give me a smile, but I see the worry telegraphed all over his face.
“Lyla and I w-w-will be there.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. I don’t know what he’s saying, but he’s talking to his family, so I have a feeling I might not like it. Still, whatever it is, it’s hurting him—that much I can see. So, I swallow down my nerves… and wait.
“L-l-love you, too,” Thomas says, which tells me he’s probably talking to his mom. I don’t see him telling Dragon that. Maybe with a tough-guy, hand-slapping hug after a couple of beers—but not over the phone.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as he clicks off the phone.
“M-m-my sister w-w-went into labor. Her blood pressure and the baby’s heartb-b-b-beat are d-d-d-drop-p-p-ping. D-d-d-doing an emerg-g-g-gency c-c-c-c-c… Fuck!” he growls, frustrated.
I go up on my knees and hold the sides of his face. “It’s going to be okay, Thomas.”
“It’s m-m-m-my b-b-b-baby s-s-s-sister,” he responds, his voice tight with fear.
“She’ll be fine. You’ll see. Let’s get you up and get dressed.”
“G-g-go with me Lyla.”
“Thomas…”
“I n-n-need you.”
I moisten my lips as I look at him. I don’t mean to, but I find myself nodding. He closes his eyes in what I can only assume is relief.
Shit. I’m going to Kentucky.
Chapter 27
Thomas
I rub my eyes as I turn down the road that will take me to the hospital. It feels like forever since I’ve been in this part of Kentucky. I’ve always loved London. It’s the perfect small town, but with any of the things you would need. You’ll be stopped by a tractor on Old Eighty or a semi as it turns to get on the interstate. I thought I would always live here.
It’s strange as hell, but I haven’t missed it once since being in Virginia. Hell, I’m even starting to like parts of Ford’s club. I’d never tell him because it would just piss him off, but he and my dad are a lot alike in how they run shit. The only difference is, since a betrayal inside Dad’s club way before my time, he runs a much tighter ship. I think Ford has some snakes in his club too, and I’m pretty sure one or two of them are in some of his most trusted positions. I can’t prove it, so I haven’t said shit. I’m not part of his club, even if he has me doing a fuck of a lot of shit for them—considering I’m supposedly an outsider.
It's fucking weird.
I don’t feel like an outsider. I glance down at Lyla, who is asleep, her head on my shoulder. Fuck, Virginia is starting to feel like home and that has everything to do with Lyla. She mumbles and moves her head slightly. Her eyes flutter before finally opening and she immediately looks at me. Her lips spread into the sweetest smile—one that I feel seep inside of me and settle in my bones.
“Hi,” she whispers, her voice filled with sleep and so tender that even while worried about my sister, my cock presses against my jeans, hungry for her. She’s a fire in my blood. I doubt Lyla would understand, but I’ve never been this easily turned on. I thought I wanted Gabby before, but my body didn’t react the way it does with Lyla. There’s always a hunger involved with Lyla. If I live to be a hundred and four, I’ll never get enough of this woman.
Never.
“Hey.”
“Are we almost there?”
“Yeah,” I answer, clearing my throat. “It’s j-just up the road, ‘bout a m-mile.”
“God,” she whispers under her breath.
“Hey, st-stop that.”
“I’m allowed to be nervous, Thomas. More than likely, your whole family will be there.”