Inmate of the Month (Souls Chapel Revenants MC 7)

“Think it’s about time that I stop acting like everything was your fault. If you’ll allow it, then I’m gonna take it,” Laric said, crossing his arms over his chest as if his dad’s answer meant little to him.

Honestly, we both knew that it meant the world.

But Laric, like always, protected himself first, and rejoiced later.

Lynn brought his grandson, who was literally a year to the day younger than his twins with Six, to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I’d love nothing better than to be able to share that with you.”

• • •

My parents walked in the door, a frown on their faces.

“What was so important that you…oh, my God.” My mother launched herself at me.

Her body must’ve blocked my father’s view of the baby because he said, “Winter, what in the ever-loving fuck is wrong with you?”

My mother moved, her face a mask of tears and revealed what he’d missed.

Dad paled, his hand over his heart. “Fuck. That hurts.”

I sniffled as tears started to leak down my cheeks. “You want to hold your grandson?”

• • •

“What’s she saying?” I asked, eyes sleepy.

“She said she’d come, but she’s had diarrhea seven times today, and that she’s not sure if she’s sick, or if it’s the new protein powder she’s switched to. She said she wouldn’t take it tonight, and then if she was feeling better, then she would be here in the morning at dawn,” Laric drawled.

I giggled. I just loved the hell out of Harlow.

I loved even more that she’d transferred her love of me to Laric.

There was nothing off limits or out of bounds when it came to either one of us.

And sometimes, I had a feeling that Laric wished there would be.

I sighed and curled up into the bed.

Today had been long and exhausting.

But at least I wasn’t in the hospital being exhausted and was instead in my own home with my healthy baby boy on the bed right beside me.

“He snores like you,” I mused.

I didn’t realize babies were so… loud.

But shit, I’d tried to catch a few minutes of sleep while Laric had been in the shower earlier, and I’d been able to concentrate on nothing but Jack’s breathing.

Or, more accurately, his snoring.

Laric leaned over the bed, his big fists on either side of our son, and stared down at him.

And with emotion filling his voice he said, “I never thought, not in a million years, that I’d have this.” He turned his head and looked at me. “I love you.”

Tears filled my eyes. “I love you, too.”

• • •