Page 23 of With A Little Luck

“If someone high profile gets kidnapped, and the family wants to keep it off the news, they call us. Sometimes clients want a team outside of law enforcement because they have laws they’re legally required to follow, and we do not .”

Okay, technically everyone has laws they’re supposed to abide by, but if you call in someone like Shadow Security, you know what you’re asking for.

She hums. “That doesn’t make much sense to me. You would think the police would have more leeway than a private company, but I think I understand what you’re trying to hint at.”

“Look, it sounds worse than it is,” I say, hoping my words are true. “There is a lot of trash out there, and sometimes it’s hard to get to them if you’re following legal channels and all the laws, because they sure don’t.”

“Gotcha.”

“Okay,” I say, trying to think of a way to put it.

“You met Shaw. Leo was here, too, but he stayed outside. That’s mostly irrelevant.

I’m only mentioning it so you know who I’m talking about.

They used to do private security for Senator Callahan.

They were assigned to his daughter for a few years, but another team took over for them.

” I sigh. “There’s a lot of backstory that won’t make much sense to you, and most of it isn’t relevant to what happened in Amsterdam.

Saylor was on a trip with a friend from college when she was kidnapped.

That’s where I was for most of November and into the beginning of December.

They took her to Germany, and it was up to the three of us to get her back.

We’re occasionally on the wrong side of the law, but the work we do is morally sound. ”

Usually , I add silently to myself.

“Is she okay?” Quincy asks, studying my face.

“She’s hanging in there as well as can be expected.” I shrug. “That’s the kind of thing that can come back to haunt you even years later. One minute, you’re fine, then the next, you’ve got flashbacks or nightmares.”

“I’m glad you guys were able to rescue her.”

“Leo and Shaw did most of the heavy lifting,” I admit. “I was just there to watch their backs.” Teasing over Quincy’s stomach, I pause when something moves under my palm. It’s faint at first, almost like a heartbeat, but it happens again, this time even stronger. “Is that…”

“Yeah.” She grabs my hand, moving it between her stomach and the couch cushion. “It’s really strong over here.”

My pulse picks up to the point I can feel it in my ears. She’s not wrong. The movements are a lot more powerful here.

“That’s insane,” I whisper, my eyes aching.

Do not burst into tears.

Don’t you dare do it.

You’ll get all snotty and embarrass yourself.

She’ll think you’re a drunk or crazier than Trigg and run away.

“Have you picked a name?” I ask around the lump in my throat.

The way her lips tip up only makes my blood pump faster.

I’m going to have to start eating healthier. I’ve lived off fast food for the last year or so. My heart is working overtime here. I should probably take better care of it in the future.

“I have a few that I like, but I’m open to compromising.” She grins mischievously. “As long as you don’t have terrible taste in naming children.”

I laugh. “I’ll do my best.”

Quincy pulls her hand to my cheek, brushing her fingers over my beard. “You’re very handsome when you smile. I hope she gets your eyes. Can I ask why you wear your glasses so often?”

I’ve got them off now, but that’s because I’m at home. I could play it off like it’s to prevent UV damage. My ophthalmologist told me I’m at a higher risk for cataracts, but that’s a cop-out.

“My eyes.” I pull my hand off her stomach to gesture at my face. “They make it nearly impossible to blend in. Having my glasses on is conspicuous, but strangely, people are less likely to remember me if they’re on versus if they see my eyes. The color gives me away even more than my height.”

“Huh, that is weird,” she says. “Damn, my mouth is dry, and I already have to pee again.”

I chuckle.

King grunts, getting even more wedged between us as I stretch over Quincy to grab her bottle of water.

She takes it and struggles to turn to sit up.

I grab King and move him to the end of the cushion.

He jumps down, shakes out his coat, and runs off—probably checking if Trigg left any shoes lying around down here that he can piss in.

Turning back to the omega, I pull her up enough that she can get a drink without spilling.

“Thanks,” she whispers. “Everything is embarrassing these days.”

I laugh. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s cute. You’re all belly. I bet it’s uncomfortable.”

She twists the cap back onto the bottle.

“It’s not so bad. At first…” She leans back against the cushion.

“The constant nausea during the first trimester was bad. The second trimester was surprisingly easy, but I had the most vivid dreams.” Her eyes fall to her lap where the bottle of water now rests between her thighs.

“I had dreams where I found you, and you were furious. Others where things went better, and I’d wake up so relieved, only to realize it never actually happened. ”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I hiss, shaking my head. “Listen, I know this is raw for both of us, but I want to be in the baby’s life.” Bringing my hand to her chin, I tilt her face to mine. “Your life too. I heard Hartley say you’re dating?—”

“That literally happened yesterday. Today? Whatever.” Her pretty blue eyes stare straight into mine like she’s trying to will me to believe her.

“Fate really does seem to love to fuck me. I believe you.” My brows draw together. “Fuck. I didn’t mean that how it sounded. Or maybe I did. I’m not used to censoring myself. I’ll work on that.”

“You don’t have to do that. I liked you for you that night. I just wish everything that happened since wouldn’t have made it so awkward between us.”

“It’s not all that awkward. My boss kidnapped his wife…” I shrug. “Twice, if you believe her account of events. And for her to put up with Easton, let’s just say, Stockholm syndrome probably had something to do with it.”

She laughs a light, airy sound. “I can never tell if you’re joking, but based on the way I ended up here, I should probably start taking your words at face value.”

“Good, do that,” I say, scooting down and rolling off the edge of the couch. I walk around to her side to help her off the sofa. “That way you’ll believe me when I say I want a second chance at making things work between us.”

Quincy frowns, taking my outstretched hands. “Aren’t you going to ask me for a paternity test? Even my ex asked for one, and there was no chance of him being her father.”

I pull her up, making sure she doesn’t bump into the bottles. “Are you lying?”

She has to tilt her head up to see my face due to the height difference. “No.”

“Any chance your math could be off?”

“Also no.”

I nod. “I’ve always had an accurate gut instinct. It hasn’t led me wrong yet. If you say the baby is mine, I believe you.”

Look at me…breaking generational curses.

My mom will be so proud.

After she and my sisters rake me over the coals for not being able to tell them about Quincy and the baby until she’s practically ready to deliver.

Family really is the gift that keeps giving. It’s only a matter of time before they find out, and it’s going to be a straight-up battle to keep them from trying to storm my house to meet Quincy.