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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ANNA
T he first night I got with Hendrix, he sat in a honkytonk bar with a guitar and a microphone and sang the words to a James Bay song while staring into my eyes.
That was the moment he made me fall a little bit in love with him.
Now, he sat in the vast ballroom, again with a guitar in his hands and a microphone at his mouth, staring into my eyes, singing “Better Together” by Jack Johnson, and I felt my heart soften.
It seemed I had a thing for hot-guy commandos with muscles, tattoos, a sexy man bun, and blue eyes that stared deep into my soul while he belted out how life was better when we were together.
I’d always loved Hendrix’s playing. He sent my senses into overdrive when he locked eyes with me while he sang—like the words meant something to him, and he needed them to mean something to me, too. There was beauty in the way he wanted to share that part of him. Hendrix loved music; it was his inspiration, and it settled him. The way he extended his love of music to me had always meant the world because it was so damned personal to him.
Whatever song he played first thing in the morning set his mood for the entire day, and he didn’t turn his nose up at any genre or band. He found worth in every note and every lyric, and I loved that about him because it revealed a sensitive side that he didn’t show anybody but me.
It would’ve been easy to get lost in the fantasy that we belonged to each other, but something held me back.
Hendrix had changed in the years we’d been apart, and definitely for the better.
He was softer, he listened, and he learned. The men all looked up to him in a way that made me proud to be the one on his arm when we went down to the bar at night. He even told me he loved me—or at least implied it—and didn’t hide it from his men either. It was such a contrast to how he used to hide me away from the people in his life that it sent a jolt through me every time he publicly said the words.
He was working hard to win me over, not by grand gestures or clichéd actions, but by showing me he’d learned from his mistakes. But a part of me couldn’t let go of my insecurities when it came to Hendrix, especially since he was the one who put them there in the first place.
Hendrix played the closing bars to the song and grinned at the shouts of appreciation that cut through the air. Immediately, he began to strum the opening chords to “Here Comes the Sun” by the Beatles.
My belly dipped as memories of Hendrix softly playing the same song to me as we sat on my window seat, watching the sun rise over the Wyoming mountains, began to flash through my mind.
The doors to the bar flew open, and I was pulled out of my daydreams by a tiny bundle of a little girl surging toward me, her white-blonde hair flying out behind her and tears streaking down her face.
“Uh-oh,” Freya murmured from the chair beside me just as Fender’s daughter Addie threw herself bodily at me before scrambling onto my lap, winding her little arms around my neck, and pressing her face into my throat with a wrenching sob.
“Sweet girl,” I murmured, rocking her in my arms. “Why are you crying?”
She pulled back, looking at me with huge, silvery-blue eyes, just like her mama’s. “Daddy says I can’t have a new dress for my party,” she cried. “He hasn’t got time to take me, and he doesn’t know where to go in town.” She looked forlornly down at her jeans that were too long in the leg. “I don’t have anything pretty to wear like the other girls, and it’s my party.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Mama would know what to do.”
Freya’s head tipped back, and she clutched her heart.
I got how she felt.
Addie was missing her mom terribly. Fender was doing his best, and he was fine with the boys as they mainly hung out at the auto shop with the brothers, who were setting it up, but he seemed lost with what to do with his baby girl.
Luckily, she had me, Freya, Carina, and Gigi. She also hung out with Ciara, though I kept telling Hendrix a biker bar wasn’t the best place for little girls, so I tried my best to take her under my wing.
“How about I take you to town, and we get you a new party dress?” I suggested.
Her tears instantly dried up, and she nodded enthusiastically.
“Can I come?” a voice asked from behind.
I craned my neck to see Gigi standing behind my chair, looking between us with big, excited eyes.
“Sure,” I told her. “But check it’s okay with your mom.”
Gigi waved a hand. “She won’t mind. Can we go to Miss-tique ? Their clothes are so cool, and I’ve got a new gift card from Blade.”
My lips twitched because Hendrix’s big, stoic, ex-military VP spoiled this little girl. He was always slipping her gift cards and cash. Anything Gigi wanted, she got, which was amazing and heartwarming but pissed off her mother, who grumbled that if he wasn’t careful, he’d turn her girl into an entitled brat.
I kinda got where Carina was coming from, but I couldn’t help getting the warm and fuzzies every time Blade and Gigi whispered their secret conversations, no doubt cooking something up between them that would piss Carina off again.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the guitar playing had stopped and that the music was now coming from the speakers instead of Hendrix.
“What’s goin’ on?” he rumbled from beside me.
My neck swiveled to see him standing by the table, his arms folded over his chest and straining against the sleeves of his T-shirt.
“I’m taking Gigi and Addison to town,” I informed him. “We need new clothes.”
He tilted his head to one side. “You never told me you needed new clothes. Would’ve sorted it.”
I swept a hand down my body. “I’m the size of a house,” I pointed out. “Plus, I’m a woman. In what universe don’t I need new clothes?”
His mouth split into a grin. “Works for me. Gotta go to Target and pick a few things up anyway. I’ll take you ladies to the stores and then treat you to lunch.”
My eyes narrowed. “Who are you? And what have you done with Jameson? If I’d have dared to ask you to come shopping with me four years ago, you would’ve had an aneurysm. God forbid you had to stand in a women’s clothing store and wait five minutes while I tried something on.”
Hendrix leaned down and brushed his lips across mine. “I’m a new man, baby. House-trained, and now it seems I’m store-trained, too. I’ll make a deal with you. If you agree to let me come and don’t give me any bullshit sass, I’ll even hold your purse for you while you’re in the changing room. You’re more than seven months pregnant and in a strange town. I’ll drop you off at a coffee place and get my shit done. Then I’ll come back and meet you for lunch, we’ll shop, and I’ll bring you home after.”
“Can we go to the Cowshed?” Gigi asked.
“We’ll go wherever you girls want,” he replied, his eyes never leaving mine.
Turning my head slightly to address Gigi, I asked, “What’s the Cowshed?”
It was Hendrix who answered. “All kinds of steak, burgers, brisket. Everything beef.”
My eyes sliced back to meet his, and I noticed how the late morning sun streaming through the windows lightened them to the color of a summer sky.
My stomach dipped nervously.
The mere thought of shopping and lunching with Hendrix made my belly swirl with nerves. We’d never really done anything like that in the past. Apart from the odd weekend away, the majority of our time was usually spent curled up together in one of our apartments or in bed.
I guessed there was a first time for everything, though, and we couldn’t stay in limbo forever. I’d been here for a couple of months, and after a rocky start—when Hendrix had kidnapped me and all that—he’d made a lot of effort to show me how much he was working on himself. It was getting to the point where I felt like a bitch for stringing him along.
It was time to shit or get off the pot, once and for all.
—————
Three voices, one belonging to Hendrix and the other two belonging to Addison and Gigi, sang along with the words to a Gracie Abram’s song so loudly and enthusiastically that I wondered if they heard us coming from town.
My eyes slid toward Hendrix, who drove with one hand on the steering wheel while his elbow languished on the open window of his truck. He joined in with the ‘oh ooh oohs’ while leaving the verses and the chorus to the two little girls bouncing excitedly on the bench seat next to him.
My smile widened, and I shook my head at the cuteness of it all, taking in how Hendrix nailed those ‘oohs’ like a pro while the girls squealed their joy.
There was nothing sexier than a man who treated kids—especially young girls—like they mattered.
I knew from what my friend Kennedy told me back in Hambleton that he had a special affinity with her daughter Kadence, who was already a gifted little musician. Back when he was VP of the Speed Demons in Wyoming, he used to play guitar with Kady a lot and encourage her to sing to a crowd to try to help her get over her shyness.
A pang of regret hit me.
He would’ve made an awesome father. It was a tragedy that he couldn’t have kids because going by what I was seeing in this truck, he had so much patience and understanding with the children that it was like he was born to be a parent. It also helped that his good looks, tattoos, and musicality made him so cool that they gazed up at him with genuine adoration.
It was adorable, and I couldn’t help wondering how Hendrix would be around my boy.
He was great with small kids, and Fender’s teenage boys loved him too, but I’d never seen him around babies. I wasn’t sure if he’d even know what to do with one. Everybody knew babies were hard work. I’d been around both my sister’s kids when they were newborns, and most of my friends’ broods, too, so I had an idea about what I was doing, but did he?
It suddenly hit me that I needed to start getting baby stuff together. I’d need a bassinet, a crib, a stroller, clothes, diapers, toiletries, bottles?—
My belly tightened into a knot of panic.
Jesus, I was weeks away from giving birth to a whole other human being, and I didn’t have a thing organized. Also, I lived in a hotel with a bunch of bikers and club whores. It was loud all the damned time—even more so at weekends—and things got aggressive to the point where most Friday nights resulted in boxing matches taking place, where the men punched each other half to death to rid themselves of their demons.
They were drunk a lot, horny a lot, and they turned the air blue with obscenities. What if something happened and the baby was sick, and I needed a Public Health Nurse to visit? How the hell was I supposed to welcome them into a place where Iceman and Pyro were partaking in what they jokingly called ‘two’s up’ or where Fletch was cheating on his wife with one of the nastier whores who didn’t care who she got dick from? Or even where six of the men were running a train on Fifi on the pool table?
I felt my face pale.
Shit.
The knot of panic in my stomach began to work its way through my chest and throat until I felt it suffocating me.
What the fuck was I going to do?
I was essentially homeless and jobless, and although I had plenty of money, a baby needed more security than just cash in the bank.
For the first time, I regretted not running away back to Hambleton, though admittedly, my situation there wouldn’t have been much different from what it was here. I’d sold my salon along with my apartment, so I had nowhere to live there, either. How was I supposed to set up a home when I was seven months pregnant and the size of a whale? I couldn’t walk a mile without having to sit down for a few minutes and rest my swollen cankles.
Addie’s hand came out to rest on mine. “You ‘kay?” she asked in her sweet little girl voice.
I let out a strangled noise.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Hendrix’s face snap toward me. “Anna?” he asked, worry lacing his tone.
I tugged the neckline of my tee away from my throat. “God. Is it hot in here?” I asked on a moan.
Hendrix pulled the truck over to the side of the road and slammed the brakes on as quickly as he could without sending us through the windshield. He leaned across, opened the dash, and grabbed a bottle of water from it before jumping out of the driver’s door and rounding the hood.
Within seconds, my door was thrown open, and I was up in his arms, bridal-style. He carried me to the flatbed at the back of the truck, pulled down the tailgate, and sat me down.
“Go see to the girls,” I told him. “I just need a minute.”
“They’re fine,” he rasped, screwing open the bottle of water and gently holding it to my lips. “Drink this.”
I obeyed and took a small sip, closing my eyes appreciatively as the cool liquid slipped down my throat.
“Again,” he muttered, watching me as I took another sip before placing the cap back on the bottle and setting it beside me. “What happened?” he asked. “Is it the baby?”
My eyes lifted to meet his. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I think I just had a revelation, and it caused a bit of a meltdown.”
Hendrix’s eyebrows shot up. “You had a meltdown?”
“I know, right?” I wailed. “What the actual fuck?”
His fingers curled around my nape, and he gently brought my face forward to kiss my forehead. “What the hell was it about? My singing’s not that bad.”
I couldn’t help giggling before my face straightened, and the feeling of dread hit my chest again. “I just realized I have nothing for the baby. I’ve got weeks before I push a tiny human out of me, and I don’t even have a baby romper for him. I’m jobless, I’m homeless, and the place where I crash is filled with bikers carousing as if their lives depended on it.” I gave him big eyes. “I love the guys, Hendrix, you know that, but they’re not exactly Nanny fucking McPhees in the making.”
His lips twitched. “You’re right. I’ve been thinking for a while that we need to start prepping for the kiddo to come. I just didn’t wanna pressure you any more than I already have. After the whole kidnapping thing, I wanted to give you room to breathe and not steamroll you. I’m trying to do better and listen to what you want.”
“I think, in this case, I need to be steamrolled, or else Junior will pop out, and I’ll have to use your Prez cut to swaddle him.”
“I’ll get on it,” he assured me.
My tummy warmed. “Really?”
“I’m here to support you, baby,” he murmured, cupping my jaw. “There’s nothing we can’t get through as long as we face it together.”
My eyes filled with tears. “Oh my God. Why couldn’t you have been this awesome when we were together?”
He laughed. “Because I was a twat. I needed to lose you to love me.”
“Did you just quote Selena Gomez's song lyrics at me?” I demanded, my lips tipping up. “I wouldn’t normally care, but it didn’t even make sense.”
“Made ya smile though,” he pointed out, his humor-filled blue eyes flicking between mine. “So, I did my job.”
Without thinking, I leaned up and kissed him gently on the lips. “Thank you,” I breathed.
He nuzzled my nose with his. “You feel okay now? Wanna go home?”
I shook my head, smiling ruefully. “I’m not sick. It’s just the enormity of everything that hit me all at once. There’s no way I could let Addie down. She’s got no clothes, Jamie, and I know Fender’s doing his best, but she’s getting to an age where girls want to look nice, and they care about what their friends at school are thinking. Another year, and they’ll start bullying her for what she’s wearing. She can’t wear her brothers’ hand-me-downs, and they’re too big for her anyway. I think she really misses having a woman in her life.”
“I need to talk to him,” Hendrix muttered. “He’s dropping the ball. Maybe he needs more help with the kids than we can give him. Once you’ve had the baby, your time’s gonna be limited. Carina’s busy with the clubhouse, and Freya’s internship takes up most of her life, and what’s left should be for Colt.”
“I feel terrible,” I murmured. “I wish I could be what Addison needs, but I’m not her mom. I’d approach Fender about adopting her, but she can’t lose her dad as well as her mom. She loves him and her brothers with all her little heart.”
“We’ll fix it,” he promised, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Maybe he needs a full-time nanny?”
“That would work,” I agreed. “Maybe a girl from town who needs a job. I’ll start making some inquiries.”
“Lemme talk to Fender first,” Hendrix suggested. “Plus, Carina and Cece both have small friend circles in Arrowhead Point. They might know someone.”
I smiled my agreement.
Hendrix’s hands landed on my shoulders, and he maneuvered himself to stand between my legs. “Forget all about what’s buggin’ you. The World Wide Web is a wonderful invention that has these things on it called online stores, and one in particular called Babies ‘R’ Us. There’s another thing called Target that we can walk into with a bank card and buy a fuckload of baby shit. We’ll be good.”
“It just seems overwhelming, Hendrix,” I murmured. “I also need to find somewhere to live.”
He grinned. “Got ya covered there, too. The hotel has staff accommodation in the grounds. Fender has the old caretaker's cottage, and there are a few other houses dotted around. My aunt and her husband had a place on the river. It’s about a five-minute drive from the hotel. It’ll need a full refurb and a new kitchen and bathrooms, but I reckon if we get the boys on it, we can have it finished in a few weeks.”
The tightness in my chest immediately loosened. “Really?”
He grinned. “Yep. Been thinkin’ about it for a while. Didn’t wanna pressure you into making any decisions.”
“Look at you being all considerate.” I nudged him with my shoulder. “I’m beginning to think you’re right for once in your life.”
“About what?” he asked.
I smiled from ear to ear, enjoying the warmth filling my belly. “Looks like you really are becoming a new man.”