Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Sal whistles low and shakes his head. “Damn, Hart. Talk about gender-role reversals.”
I raise my chin a little and give the same spiel I’d given Kynan and Jerico. “I’m just not ready to give up my career.”
Sal tells me something I already know, because Kynan and Jerico both told me the same thing. “You wouldn’t have to give it up. Who said you couldn’t be a mother and a badass mercenary? I mean… plenty of women go off to war and leave their kids back home with their husbands. This is the twenty-first century, Hart. You need to move into it.”
My head bows down not in shame, but in frustration. Yes, I know this. He’s right. Kynan’s right. Jerico is right. I can totally keep doing this job and be a mother, particularly with Bodie raising the baby right beside me. I can’t use that as an excuse anymore, and that leaves me feeling off balance and panicky.
I’m not overly close to Sal. We have a mutually respectful working relationship and a trusted bond that we’d protect the other. But we don’t hang out as friends, and we’ve never had a meaningful discussion unless an argument we once had over the best whey protein powder on the market counts.
So, I’m totally surprised at myself when I look back up to him and blurt out, “I don’t think I can be a mom.”
Sal’s chin jerks inward and his eyebrows rise high. “Shut the fuck up, Hart. You can totally be a mom.”
The feelings of panic and desperation start to constrict my chest. I shake my head, my voice almost shrill. “No, I can’t. What do I know about being a mom? I’m hard and no nonsense. If my kid fell and scraped his knee, I’d tell him to get up and rub some dirt in it. I am not mother material.”
Rather than empathize, Sal laughs. Literally throws his head back and laughs from deep in his gut. When he finally looks at me, it’s with gentle reproach as he shakes his head. “You’re totally equipped to be a mom. You’re loyal and dedicated. You’d protect your kid’s life with your own, and you’d never let anything bad happen to it. You’d give it the best opportunities, sacrificing yourself to do so. You’d be calm and steady and completely unflappable. That’s all great mother material, and do you know how I know you got it?”
I ignore the slight ringing in my ears that started when he told me I could be a mom, giving a stupid shake of my head.
Sal leans closer, his voice soft. “I know it because you exhibit all those things to our teammates at Jameson. There’s no one stronger than you. No bigger advocate. No greater confidant. Never a more loyal person to those she’s sworn to protect. You’re more a mom than most women out there, Hart. And you can take that to the bank.”
“I’m not good at commitment,” I whisper, throwing out another tactic in hopes Sal will take back everything he just said.
“Are you talking about the baby or Bodie now?” Sal asks dryly.
I jerk backward, surprised by his question. Surely, he knows I’m talking about the baby, right?
But admittedly, the rise of fear that swelled within me at the mention of Bodie’s name is probably an indication I’m thinking about him, too.
I don’t answer him directly, instead saying, “It’s casual between Bodie and me. That’s all.”
“Bullshit,” he says with resounding confidence. “What I’ve seen of you and Bodie, and I’ve seen quite a bit at The Wicked Horse, it’s anything but casual.”
“We’re fucking in a sex club,” I growl.
“You’re sharing intense, intimate experiences at a sex club with him and exclusively him,” he retorts. “That’s not casual.”
“He’s too young.” I’m grasping at straws now, and I know the nine-year age difference between us is probably lame.
“Again, bullshit. He’s a good dude with a wise head on his shoulders. I mean, if you’re all vain and worrying about getting wrinkles before him, fine then. But you and I both know you’re not vain, Hart.”
Sal crosses his arms over his chest, looking down at me with superiority.
Asshole.
The door to the locker room opens, and Cage walks in dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a white tank top. He’s got on flip-flops, a ball cap with shades perched on top, and his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He gives us both a nod and walks over to the next row of lockers.
Sal leans across the bench again and murmurs, “Rachel… you don’t have to make any decisions right now. Think about it. Take your time. You’ve got a while before that baby comes.”
My eyes cut toward the lockers because I know if I look at him, he’ll take that as an acknowledgment he’s right. I have no business declaring my intentions this early, when I know damn well I’ve been mired under second thoughts nearly every day.