Page 28 of With A Little Luck

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hartley

T he jury is still out on whether I’ll be able to find some common ground with Ridge. He could be an ally when it comes time to deal with Trigg, but there’s no guarantee.

“Here,” Ridge growls, chucking a pair of gloves at my chest when he sees me rubbing my hands together.

We’ve already unloaded one delivery truck of God knows what. Apparently, we’re just waiting for another.

I pull the work gloves on, stretching out my fingers and bouncing on my toes in an attempt to up my body temperature. It helps a little, but it’s still cold as shit.

Couldn’t we shut the garage door and keep an eye out for the next delivery from the windows in the front room?

That sounds like a solid plan to me.

Knox glances between the two of us and rocks on his heels, tossing a thumb behind him toward the door to head back into the house. “I’ve gotta take a piss. Text me if they get here. I might browse to see if there’s anything left from breakfast.”

He takes off, and Ridge sighs, moving to lean against the brick in the garage door opening.

My gut says Knox dipped to give us the chance to talk privately. Might as well make the most of it.

“You think the delivery truck got lost?”

Ridge grunts. “The gate guards are doing a sweep of any unknown vehicles coming into the neighborhood. It’s just a precaution, but it takes extra time.”

My breath fogs the air as I exhale.

I almost don’t even want to broach the subject of who’s after him or what the hell is going on.

Truthfully?

Everything in me believes Quincy would have been better off if she had never met Trigg. He wouldn’t have led Ridge to her, and we wouldn’t be tangled up in whatever dangerous mess they’re wrapped up in.

“You’re not normal private security,” I say, turning toward Ridge. “I’ve worked with a lot of companies over the years, and yeah, they pay their guys well, but not well enough to afford this kind of house. Not unless you grew up with money.”

“You’re an expert on the matter, huh?” Ridge chuckles, but it’s not a friendly sound. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

My eyes narrow.

His flippant tone is about to piss me off.

“You’re a mercenary at best.” I shrug but keep a close eye on his face as I go on. “A straight-up assassin at worst.”

“I made a point of telling Quincy all about what I do for a living when she and I talked last night,” he says, looking out toward the street.

“Do you really think that’s a safe lifestyle to have Quincy and the baby around?” I deadpan the question.

I’ve been half in love with her for months—since way before I ever slipped inside her. I slowly put in the work to get to know her, and it scares the shit out of me wondering what he might have gotten her messed up in.

“You don’t want to fuck with me right now,” Ridge growls, jabbing a gloved finger in my direction.

“I sure as fuck would have handled the issue if I had known about it. I found out I was being hunted days ago . Okay, fucker? So, you can go ahead and climb off your high horse at any time. I wasn’t expecting any of this, but I’m doing the best I can.

I found out about the baby less than twenty-four hours ago. ”

Does he think I’m going to feel sorry for him?

Because I don’t.

He made his choices in life.

He gets to live with them.

The extent of my concern is how those choices might impact Quincy.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to either of them,” he says firmly. “I’ll call in every favor I’m owed if that’s what it comes down to, but one way or another, they will be protected.”

“I have feelings for Quincy. I’m not going anywhere.” I cross my arms over my chest, not backing down when his face transforms into even more of a scowl. “I don’t know how things are going to work out between the two of you, but I’m already attached—to Quincy and the baby.”

“You don’t say,” he says, scoffing. He has on the same reflective pair of sunglasses that he wore when he came to Quincy’s last night, so I can’t see his eyes, but it looks like he rolls them. “I never would have guessed.”

“Are you going to keep being a sarcastic dick?” I growl, taking a step toward him. “Or are you going to grow up and have a conversation with me man-to-man to try to find some common ground?”

“Sorry, bro .” He snorts. “I didn’t know we were having a male-bonding moment.”

A low growl rattles out of my chest. “If you want to go on hating each other, that’s fine by me, but I’ve been the one keeping an eye on Quincy. I’m the one who’s been there, putting in the work. I don’t think you’d like the outcome if you asked her to choose.”

“Probably not.” His head tilts, and it’s unnerving being able to see the scowl on my face reflected in his sunglasses.

His jaw flexes, and he raises a hand, flipping me off.

“Doesn’t matter, because I’m not planning on imposing any ultimatums. I’m going to unload that truck, carry in all the shit I ordered, and get to work setting up a nursery for the baby. You can help or you can fuck off.”

My head whips up, and sure enough, he’s right.

The other truck is here.

I was so distracted that I didn’t notice the sounds.

The loud hum of the diesel engine approaches as the truck drives just past the driveway and prepares to back in.

“That’s what all of this shit is?” I ask, gesturing to the pile of boxes we already unloaded and back to the truck. “You bought baby furniture?”

Ridge laughs mirthlessly. “I bought the entire fucking baby store.”

“Without so much as a paternity test?”

“Without so much as a paternity test.” He steps out onto the driveway to wait for the truck. “Would you ask Quincy for one?”

He’s got me there.

No, if I was in his shoes, I probably wouldn’t. Once you utter those words, they can’t be taken back.

There are certain circumstances where I could see myself asking for one, but I understand why he would be hesitant to do so. Even if she’s understanding—which I think she would be—it’ll still always be in the back of her mind.

“You gonna help or should I text Knox?” he asks, startling me out of my thoughts.

I sigh.

The goal was to see if I could find an ally against Trigg, and I’m not sure I accomplished that. Ridge is a hell of a lot more tolerable than the psychopath, but I let my pride get the better of me, and I picked a fight rather than finding something we could bond over.

It’s complicated.

I’m normally fully confident in who I am and what I bring to the table, but Ridge and Quincy share something I’ve never experienced.

They created a life .

I’m sure that bonds two people in a way someone who doesn’t have kids would struggle to understand. At least, that’s what it feels like being on the outside, looking in.

“You get tackled one too many times in your career?” Ridge asks, laughing obnoxiously when I take too long to answer his earlier question.

Raising a hand, I flip him off this time, despite how awkward it is in the gloves he gave me. “Let’s get this shit done. I’m freezing my balls off.”

Ridge and I unload an ungodly number of boxes. The second truck has labeled packages that give away what’s inside. Ridge must have dropped ten grand on baby shit—if not more.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him, but Quincy already has a crib and a car seat. She told me about it when she got them. At the time, I planned to surprise her with the matching changing table and dressers. It looks like Ridge has that covered, though.

Ridge cuts open boxes from the first delivery, digging around in each.

I wait on the steps.

I’m itching to get inside and out of the cold, but more than that, I need to check on Quincy.

I left her with Trigg, of all people.

Ridge tugs a black and red plastic storage bin from one of the boxes. It’s huge, stretching his arms wide as he strides toward the steps. “You mind getting that? My hands are full.”

He nods at the door, and I get my shit together. I head in first and Ridge follows, kicking the door closed behind him.

“What’s all that?” I ask over my shoulder.

“I might need you to take credit for this one. We’ll see how it goes,” Ridge grumbles, picking up his pace to walk past me.

I have to flatten my back against the wall to keep from getting smacked with the bin.

He takes the turn into the living room, and I follow behind him, still really confused about what’s happening.

Quincy is stretched out on the long end of the sectional with a throw blanket tucked around her and King snuggled behind her feet.

The dog opens one eye and closes it.

I snort.

I’m pretty sure he was checking for Trigg.

Quincy is awake and facing the TV. Her head tilts to get a look at us, and her eyes widen. “Whoa, what’s all that?”

“Where’s Trigg?” Ridge asks, dropping the bin on the floor between the chair and the couch.

Quincy struggles to sit up, and Ridge steps forward, helping her switch to a more seated position instead of lying on her side. “He fed me breakfast, and we snuggled for a bit, but Knox came in and said he got a call from someone named Easton. They went upstairs, and King joined me for a cuddle.”

“He jumped up there on his own with no problem?” Ridge’s eyes narrow.

“Yup,” Quincy says, laughing.

“Interesting.” He stretches over her and scratches the dog’s back. “I knew you were a faker. Everyone tells me you’re just a spoiled little dick.”

I laugh.

Ridge reminds me of the guys I played football with. No filter. No censoring his language when a lady is around.

Hell, I’m not much better, but Ridge is unapologetically himself. At least you know what to expect, unlike Trigg.

“What’s in the bin?” the little omega asks, looping her arms around her stomach and linking her fingertips. I’m impressed they can even touch with how substantial the baby bump is, but she has long arms.

King raises his head and growls, making my head twist to see what pissed him off.

“Can we put a pause on that?” Trigg strides into the room and focuses on Ridge. “Knox needs to speak to you for a moment.”

Ridge sighs, but takes off while Trigg skirts around the couch and comes to a stop at Quincy’s side.

“I got a call,” he says, cupping her cheek in his hand. “I’m afraid I have to go into work for a few hours.”

“Okay,” she says, searching his face. “But you’ll be back before bed?”

“I will,” he agrees, dipping his mouth to hers.

My damn teeth grind together. That must mean their talk went well.

Trigg pulls back, running his thumb over Quincy’s lower lip. “I’ll bring you back a few goodies. It’s only right, now that we’re courting.”

Her hand flies up, grabbing his wrist. “You didn’t ask…”

“Hmm, I thought I did.” He chuckles. “Perhaps it felt implied. Quincy, can I court you?”

Her head bobbles up and down, and my stomach sinks.

I was raised in a pack.

I know how it goes. The omega builds their pack based on who they feel will bring fulfillment to their life. Quincy will choose the alphas she feels connected to, and I don’t get a say in how that plays out.

I could remove myself from the situation, but that’s not what I want.

Quincy is my endgame.

I just can’t seem to fathom why she can’t see Trigg for who he is.

Hell, maybe she does.

Omegas are wired to seek out the biggest, baddest alphas they can find to protect them. With her being pregnant and even more vulnerable than normal, her system might be pushing that instinct to try to ensure she has protection.

Either way, now is not the time to show my ass.