Apollo (Cerberus MC)

“How did you know exactly when we were arriving?” I ask.

“Grinch knows the girl working the counter. She gave us a heads-up.”

“Such a violation of privacy,” I mutter, clutching April closer.

My friend just smiles and moves to the side so the next person can approach. One after another, some with kids on their hips, some with their partners, the men and women of Cerberus tell us how happy they are for us, how they just know we’re going to have years and years of happiness, and they do it with genuine smiles on their faces. There isn’t a doubting face in the group.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Emmalyn says as she walks up with Kincaid.

I get another manly clap on the shoulder, but they both keep their distance, not touching April and giving her a little space.

“We put all the gifts on the table over there.” Emmalyn points across the room to a pile of things wrapped in shiny paper, complete with bows and ribbons.

“Gifts?” April asks as she tilts her face up to look at me.

She’s not happy or excited. If anything, she looks like she’s about to cry.

“Excuse me,” she says, moving away from me and rushing toward the back hallway.

“I was afraid of that,” Emmalyn mutters.

I take off after April. I’ve never claimed to understand women and how their minds work, but I’m even more confused now. I realize when I walk into the room to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, curled over and crying into her palms that I don’t know nearly enough about my wife. If I found another woman crying like this, I would try to console her, or distract her. But I can’t whisper dirty things in her ear and make her come so hard she forgets her worries.

God, I’m actually going to have to do something I’ve never been good at. I’m going to have to… talk.

I approach slowly, like she’s a feral beast able to turn on me in the blink of an eye.

“April?” The crying doesn’t stop, and I look over my shoulder to see if anyone is standing there willing to offer a helping hand, but I closed the door behind me when I entered.

Fuck, I mouth, both hands clamped on the back of my neck because this seems more daunting, more stressful than entering a South American drug den with no lights. With work, I’m protected. I have a gun and body armor. I have men at my back to help me strategize and keep a lookout for things that have the potential to hurt me.

Right now? It’s just April and me.

“Hey,” I say as I step up beside her, risking a limb as I reach out and rub her back.

This helped the time she was crying the first night she got here.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” My voice is level even though I feel nothing of the sort inside. If there’s a problem I can’t fix, it has the potential to crumble the already shaky ground we’re on. I want to build things with this woman, not tear them down.

Standing over her doesn’t seem to be helping so I drop to my knees in front of her, pressing my forehead to hers and praying the affection doesn’t get rejected. I’m a strong man, but her shoving me away during the day after holding her all night would be a painful blow to my ego.

“Hey,” I whisper, lifting her chin so she’s looking at me. God, her tear-stained face and red-rimmed eyes only highlight her beauty, but I loathe the sight of them. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“They got us gifts,” she sputters, sniffling to try to stop crying.

“And if I know the people out there, I bet they’re amazing gifts.”

This is the wrong thing to say and only makes her cry harder.

Would comic relief work better in this situation? I don’t know, but I’m willing to try anything.

“Well, except Gigi. She probably got us a box of sex toys and edible underwear. Cannon probably got us a bottle of liquor even though you’re only eighteen and pregnant. He doesn’t always think things through.”

“Why would they get us gifts?”

“Because they’re happy for us, and gifts are a way of showing that.”

She looks up at me, her beautiful face burdened with emotions. “I don’t deserve gifts.”

“Baby,” I cup her cheek, my thumb wiping the tears away as they continue to fall, “you deserve the world.”

Her eyes drop to my lips, and a zing of thrill runs through my body. This isn’t the right time.

“April,” I warn, but my mouth is already moving to hers.

She doesn’t pull back, and when our lips meet, the stunned gasp from her lips tells me I crossed the line. I’m moving too fast, taking advantage.

I pull back, and I’m standing to my full height a second later.