Hurricane Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 1)

Two simple words that meant the fucking world to me. And a smile that said so much more than any words ever could. My woman had my back just as much as I had hers. And she trusted in me in ways no one ever had. That was what got me through my days and had me coming home each night ready for her hands, her body, and her love. I couldn’t have done any of the shit I did if she wasn’t by my side.

The song lasted another minute or so in which Birdie put her hands all the fuck over me, driving my dick wild, and my need for her through the fucking roof. When it ended, and I realised she was settling in to keep that shit up, I leaned in close and growled, “My dick can’t last another song, Angel. Come and sit your ass next to me for a bit to give me a break.”

I should have known her grin meant she had no intention of easing up on me. She did follow me to the table where Max sat, but instead of sitting next to me, she planted her ass on my lap, which meant my dick had no fucking hope. Not with that ass wiggling all over me, and her tits so close to my face.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

Max looked at Birdie and shook his head as he grinned. “Give up now, brother. She seems hell-bent on driving you crazy tonight.”

“Hey,” Birdie chastised him, “I thought you were on my side, Maxxi.”

He arched a brow. “Maxxi?”

I chuckled. “I think it’s time we cut her supply. She’s clearly drunk too much tonight.”

“Yeah,” Max agreed, teasing, “Far too much. I refuse to get her any more.”

Birdie wiggled around some more before looping her arms tightly around my neck and bending her face to mine. “Smart ass,” she said in that sexy voice of hers. She brushed a kiss over my lips before sliding off my lap. “I’ll be back, but while I’m gone, perhaps you could get me some more water. That is unless you really are cutting me off.”

“I’m fucking impressed with you guys,” Max said as I watched Birdie make her way to the bathroom. “I don’t know many couples who would be this dedicated.”

I turned to him. “I can’t understand anyone who wouldn’t be this dedicated, brother.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I agree. But still.”

He wasn’t wrong. When I’d given up alcohol three months ago, I’d heard it all. I’d been told it was overkill. “You can get her pregnant without quitting the booze, mate” had played on repeat for the first month or so. Then, when I’d ignored them, they’d realised how fucking serious I was about what Birdie and I were doing, and they’d pulled their heads in.

There was no way I wouldn’t do everything in my power to make our dream of a family come true. If that required me to stop drinking, so fucking be it. Hell, Birdie had me on a concoction of vitamins or supplements or some shit, right alongside the no-alcohol-and-regular-sleep-plus-healthy-food routine she followed. Sometimes I strayed, but as best I fucking could, I didn’t.

I hadn’t been there for her the last time she’d fallen pregnant. I hadn’t even really been there for her before she fell pregnant. She’d been right when she said war had driven us apart. This time, I was right by her side—mind, body, and fucking soul.

Leaving him, I headed to the bar and got some water for Birdie. When I rejoined him, he said, “Is she mentally ready for this?”

“Fuck, are any of us?” I could have told him everything we’d done to mentally prepare for IVF, but at the end of the day, I didn’t believe I could be prepared for anything in life until I’d already been through it once. Until I had the lay of the land and some insight into the battle ahead. Hell, war had taught me that. And then it had kept on serving up the lessons. Every fucking tour brought new challenges. I imagined an IVF cycle would be like a tour of duty—hell on our reserves—and all we could do was prepare and hope for the best, never giving up, battling together to the end.

“Good point,” he agreed. “Fuck, I hope this is a success for you two.”

“If it’s not, we keep going until it is.”

“Simple as that?”

The journey wasn’t fucking simple as that, but the decision was. We keep going until we have our family. However that comes about.

Birdie’s hand slid across my shoulders as she positioned herself on my lap again. Blessing me with a smile, she said, “Thank you for the water.”

I placed my arm around her before lifting my glass between the three of us. “To Dad.”

Max raised his glass. “To Dad.” He looked at Birdie. “And to family. May yours grow soon.”

She clinked our glasses. “I love you, Maxxi. Here’s to you and your happiness. May you find it with a woman who loves you like you love her.”

He drank some of his whisky. “I’m not convinced of this Maxxi shit, B.”

Birdie laughed. “It’s okay, I promise not to call you that when you’re trying to pick up. It’ll be Max all the way then.”

“Maybe it could be Max all the way, all the time,” he suggested with a look that told her he’d fucking prefer that.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel like if you were my brother, I’d call you Maxxi. And since I really do consider you my brother now, it fits.”