Page 122

And it’s not exactly easy now. Lex is dressed in a dark gray waistcoat and crisply pressed trousers, hair slicked back into its bun. He looks like a gentleman, but only I know how much of a lie it is. Four hours ago, he was pushing his spunk into me while muttering absolute filth into my ear.

Wicker is carefully rumpled in that way of his, the top three buttons of his shirt undone to reveal a white undershirt. His hair looks like itwasslicked back, but has since fallen victim to an ambitious round of fucking. Another lie. We fucked before he even fixed his hair.

Pace is the only one who came as himself, his dark green button-down untucked, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His jean-clad legs are spread enticingly, the outfit finished off with an expensive pair of sneakers. The arm he has slung around me is loose and deceptively casual, but every now and then, he’ll give a lock of my hair a little twirl around his forefinger.

Shivering, I try to break myself out of the lust fog. “And I can’t help it if Justice eats like his fathers.”

The car makes a right turn, and Wick gives me a smirk. “We get through this with no new surprise family announcements, and I’ll take you to that all-you-can-eat Chinese place down on the Avenue you like so much.”

Lex’s eyes pop wide. “You took her there? That food is filled with sodium and MSG. No wonder your ankles are swollen!”

“It’s not the food.” I roll my eyes. “You try carrying forty extra pounds without any side effects.”

“Well, you can’t go anyway.” Lex leans against the door, a blaze of sun catching the amber in his eyes. For a second, they glow like fire. “I spent all night getting the new 4D ultrasound equipment set up, so we’re breaking it in this afternoon.”

Wicker snorts, fussing with his hair. “I still don’t know why you needed to spend so much of Rufus’ money on some fancy scan machine. She’s only going to be pregnant for like three more weeks. I hope they take returns.”

“I guess I should have spent it on another car,” Lex drawls, flicking his brother a wry look. “And plus, it can be used for her next pregnancy.”

“Another car would be—” Wicker freezes, brows slamming together. “Hold up. What do you mean hernextpregnancy?”

Lex and I share a long, simmering stare.

“Guys.” Pace cuts off our bickering with a pointed tap on the window. “We’re here.”

We pull up in front of the large building where two black SUVs are parked along the curb.Shit. I knew Wick spent too much time washing my hair, but it felt so good. “Looks like we’re fashionably late,” he says, sliding his fingers through mine. The driver opens the door, and I heave myself from the car with the help of the guys.

The stirrings of fall are in the air as we march toward the building, Lex’s hand guiding on the small of my back. I must look ridiculous in my mid-length purple dress, like some sad, mutated grape, but I’m running out of things that fit.

Entering through the doors of the old courthouse, I can’t help but drink in the interior. From the floors to the molding, everything looks old and historical, painfully intricate, and wildly out of place next to the trio of men waiting to check my Prince’s weapons.

“Hey, Kaz,” I greet, opening my purse as I eye the LDZ next to him. “Making friends?”

He doesn’t look surprised at the fixed-blade I pull from my bag. “Ah, Jordan and I are enjoying the lesser parts of our new titles. Guard duty.”

I grin at him. “Congratulations on making Duke, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Frowning, he takes Lex’s pistol. “Shame Ballsy turned it down though. We would have run West End ragged with Porterfield.” I don’t miss the accusing look he gives my Princes. “Feels like he’s more East than West these days.”

“He stays in East End forme,” I stress, not allowing that glint of animosity in his eyes to grow. “Eugene’s one of my best friends, and he’s gone through a lot. I don’t blame him for needing to take some time.”

Kaz shrugs, nodding his head. “Sure, I get it. Still sucks.”

I pat him on the arm. “Maybe next year. He’s only a junior, right?”

“Right.”

With that, Lex impatiently leads me down the high-ceilinged hallway, and I try not to panic over what’s about to happen. “Maybe we should have given them a heads-up about being late,” I say, keeping my voice low. Everything in here echoes.

“It’ll be fine,” Lex says, jerking his chin at something—someone—down the hall. Nick Bruin, dressed in a black T-shirt, jeans, and scuffed-up boots, straightens when he sees us. There’s no doubt his eyes linger on Wicker a beat longer than necessary, possibly trying to determine how he missed the family resemblance.

“Hey, Nick.” I grin when I see him, unable to stop myself from looking at the puckered two-inch scar on his neck. “Looking all healed up.”

He stretches his neck back and forth, demonstrating the statement. “Not sure I’d win any Furies right now, but at least I’m finally off that godforsaken bed rest.” Nick’s blue eyes drop to my belly. “But Christ, look at you. You’re fucking huge, Ver. You sure there aren’t two in there?”

I glower at him.

“Positive,” Lex says, stepping next to me. After an awkward moment, he thrusts his hand out, and after an even awkwarder moment, Nick slaps it, their fists meeting in one of those unflinchingly macho handshakes. “Looks like you’re still doing the range-of-motion exercises. You got a clean scan from the guy I sent you to?”