Roman-1(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(31)

“Shut up.”

“No, you shut up, you dumb shit. Go to sleep. You’re gonna need it before Ma gets hold of you. That woman is not impressed with you right now. Not one bit,” he says, closing his eyes again.

I close mine, too, and allow my mind to drift because all I can do is focus on healing before I decide what to do about my life.

Melissa is my woman. I just need to find a way to make her see that.





Chapter Ten


Melissa

“Stop hovering, Lon!”

I am currently doing my best not to shoot these men as I polish glasses behind the bar and pretend that my life doesn’t suck big old donkey nuts. All day long I have men around me acting like mother hens.

“Don’t lift that.”

“Don’t climb that stool.”

“Dr. Oz was saying how organic food is the best.”

And my personal favorite. “Aren’t you worried that caffeine could harm your baby?”

I drink decaf and then only a half a cup because I am paranoid about this pregnancy.

They’re killing me with their hovering. Then again, I killed part of myself when I broke things off with Roman.

For God’s sake, I should have waited until after he got out of the hospital before ending things. It’s just that I was so mad when I stood outside that hospital room and heard the way him and Jim were talking as if none of what he’d done was enough.

Thank God that Ma and the family come by to visit me daily and I get some companionship at work. Otherwise I would have broken weeks ago and gone to see him.

It seems all I do now is threaten people. I can’t help that they’re all a bunch of assholes.

“Mel, darlin’, you crying again?” Will snarls and I sniff so loudly that I see them all grimace and shudder.

“No! Leave me alone, William Sparrow, or I swear to God I’ll spray your ass with lead.”

I keep polishing glasses and do my best to ignore them all staring and grumbling at me as if I’m too pregnant to hear properly anymore. A few minutes pass this way before I hear a chair scraping softly against the scarred wooden floor.

“Hey, darlin’, you still crying or can I come over there to get myself a beer?”

“I said I’m not crying so shut your mouth and ask for a beer. There’s nothing wrong with my hands, brain, or ears, Will, so stop treating me as if there is.”

Ma still tells me about Roman’s progress at every visit, and I’m happy to hear that his eye wasn’t permanently damaged and his leg healed well enough that he should be able to start physical therapy soon.

A set of strong arms comes around me and I swear I feel every wall I have just built crumple and fall at my feet.

“That’s okay, darlin’, you cry all you need. I got you,” he croons, turning me and pushing my face into the muscled contours of his chest. “You done good keeping it all in this long, but it ain’t good for you and it ain’t good for my godson.”

I keep crying till I have nothing left. When I finally sigh and push away, it’s to see the bar clear of all patrons but for Lon and Will. Even poor Milton is gone.

“You feel better?”

“No. I feel worse. And better. And worse. It comes and goes as fast as the next breath,” I mumble, blushing at the thought of them seeing me this exposed.

Will grins at my ornery tone and pulls me into a chair while Lonnie goes for a glass of milk and the stash of chocolate chip cookies that I hide under the bar.

“Spill it, kid. What’s eating you?”

“Nothing.”

“Jesus, is this about Lane? Because I swear if he’s bothering you—”

“He isn’t, Will. He’s at home right where he should be, healing and staying away like I asked him to. He’s done nothing.”

And that’s the problem.

“Ah, I see.” Lonnie sighs, making me clench my jaw when he chuckles and throws me a commiserating look that chaps my fine ass.

“Lon—”

“Nah, I know what this is all about. You still love that man and you went and kicked his ass to the curb because you think it’s easier to lose now than lose later, huh?”

I really hate that Will and Lonnie are addicted to that damned quack on TV, because for rough and tough bikers they’re way too in touch with their feelings. And mine.

“Lonnie, mind your own damn business and stop yapping about stuff you have no clue about, okay? I’m not regretting a damn thing. Roman’s a good man, and I love him, but he’s not right for me.”

Will leans back in his chair and plants his boots on the table and crosses his ankles.

I know that look and I am not fooled by his blasé attitude one bit. He does that same thing Miah does when he wants answers.