Battle Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 3)

“Yeah.”

We pull Hunt into the office and go over the details. I just want to do some recon first. If the lead is good, we’ll regroup and make a plan to go back with more men.

Once we’re finished and Hunt has left us, I say to Ransom, “Has Striker given you any hell this week?”

“No, he’s pulling his weight. Whatever you said to him worked.”

“Good. Let me know if that changes.” I grab my keys. “I’ll see you in the morning,” I say before exiting the office and making my way out to my bike.

When I arrive home, I find Birdie in bed, asleep under the covers. This has been a hard week for her. She’s put on a brave face and not complained about most of it to me, but I know it’s been difficult for her because I made a point to call her mother and ask. Jennifer let me know that Birdie has struggled with extreme tiredness, cramping, and headaches since starting the new round of injections. On top of that, she’s still taking the other injections, too, so she’s suffering from multiple side effects of both.

Kicking my boots off, I slide under the covers and join her. She stirs as the bed dips, her eyes coming to mine.

“Hey, you,” she says sleepily, snaking her arm over my waist and gripping my shirt. “You’re home.”

Pulling her close, I brush a kiss across her lips. “Yeah. Go back to sleep.”

“No,” she murmurs, trying to keep her eyes open. “I wanna talk.”

“Baby, you can barely stay awake. We’ll talk later.”

“Mmm….”

She falls back asleep in my arms and I kiss her forehead, savouring this quiet time with her. This woman is my everything, and being away from her this week has killed me. I’ve made it clear to King that I won’t be leaving Melbourne for anything else until we’re finished this IVF cycle. And even after that, when we’re hopefully in the stages of early pregnancy, it’ll take a lot to get me to leave town.

Birdie sleeps for another hour and a half in which I reposition her against my side so I can lie on my back and watch TV. I’m engrossed in an episode of Mindhunter when she stirs again.

“What time is it?” she asks, moving her leg over mine.

Her beauty captures my full attention when I turn to face her. No other woman even comes close to Birdie for me. “It’s almost six thirty. Time for your injection.”

Snuggling against me with her arm tightly across my chest, she says, “I need five more minutes here, with you. I’ve missed you. How are you? How’s your wound healing? How was King? Tell me everything.”

Birdie and her questions. I trace my fingers over her shoulder. “I’m good. Glad to be home.”

Her lips flatten. “Seriously? After a week away, that’s all you’ve got for me?”

I kiss that unimpressed look off her face. “We’ve talked every day, angel. You know how I am. I’m tired and pissed off that I’ve had to be away from you all week. My wound is good. Stop worrying about it. And King is his usual self. I’m more interested in talking about how you are.”

Her hand curls around my neck. “Thank you. I know how hard it is for you to drag words out of that mouth of yours when the conversation is about you.”

I chuckle at the smartass attitude she’s throwing my way. Fuck I’ve missed her. “Yeah, well take note of how many words I just dragged out of my mouth. We’ve hit my limit for the day.”

She rolls her eyes. “We’ve hit your limit for the week, more like it.”

“I talked to your mum this week. Why didn’t you tell me you haven’t been well? I thought we were doing straight-up honesty with this.”

“Ugh, you are a sneaky man,” she grumbles, moving to sit cross-legged next to me. “I planned to tell you today, when you were home safe.”

“What does me being home have to do with this?”

“You’ve been away for a week handling club stuff that maybe, I don’t know, puts you in danger. You needed to be able to focus completely on what you were doing. I wasn’t going to add to that danger by giving you information I knew might distract you. And Mum and I will be having serious words; she should not have shared it with you either.”

&nbsp

; “You tell your mum to stop talking to me and we’re going to have a problem, angel.”

Her eyes widen at the hard tone I’ve taken. “Whoa, where did that come from?”