Loved by the Hitman (Men of Ruthless Corp)

I’d keep her.

Forever.

Epilogue

Audrey

I’d quickly learned that Merrick didn’t waste any time once he’d made a decision. He knew he was going to kidnap me before he’d walked away from me the day we met, and less than a week later, he executed the perfect plan to steal me from the packed church during Grace’s wedding. He wanted my heart, and it took less than a day for me to fall in love with him—even though he’d just kidnapped me. He wanted to make me his wife, and the day after he told me we were getting married—right after he called his boss and told him he resigned—we were on our way to Vegas to make it happen. A couple of weeks later, we found out that he’d already knocked me up, just like he wanted. He was lucky I didn’t hire a hit on him when I threw up in class more than a dozen times while wrapping up my semester before I moved out to LA with him.

The one thing my husband couldn’t control was when I gave birth to our son. At six days past my due date, I had a whole bunch of sympathy for elephants. They were the mammals with the longest gestation period at almost two whole years. I’d researched that little tidbit in an attempt to cheer myself up, but my overactive hormones had just made me cry for all female elephants because I couldn’t imagine being pregnant that long—even if it felt as though I was nearing that point sometimes. Like now, as two macho guys stared at me with fear in their eyes. “Stop looking at me as though you think I’m going to break any minute.”

“Not break, just go into labor,” Merrick growled, his gaze drifting down to where I was rubbing my rounded belly.

“I wish.” I glanced at Deacon, who’d come down for a visit while he was on leave from the Navy, and whispered, “We’ve tried every single thing the doctor recommended at my last appointment, and nothing has happened yet.”

I’d only met Deacon a few times, but I should’ve known that I couldn’t slip anything past a SEAL. Tilting his head to the side, he asked, “What kinds of things have you tried?”

“The doctor had some great suggestions.” Merrick’s eyes took on a roguish gleam as my cheeks filled with heat. He flashed me a sexy smirk, and his dimples popped in his cheeks. “My favorites were—”

Luckily, he was sitting next to me so I could slap my palm over his mouth while he talked about how we’d tried sex and nipple stimulation to kick-start labor. I kept my hand there as I explained, “Spicy foods, fresh pineapple, and exercise.”

“Exercise.” He grinned at Merrick. “Is that what they’re calling it now?”

Merrick nipped at my fingers, and I yanked my hand away with a yelp while a shiver raced down my spine. Then he arched his brow and quipped, “Well, all three letters are in there, so I guess it’s close enough.”

It took me a moment to unscramble the letters in “exercise” and realize he pulled out one of the e’s, the x, and the s to spell out “sex.” I pushed away from the table to stand and murmured, “Well played.”

Merrick’s dark gaze swept down my body, his eyes going wide when I cried out as liquid gushed down my legs. “Holy fuck, your water broke!”

He jumped to his feet, sweeping me up into his arms to carry me out to the car. Deacon followed us, and when Merrick’s hand slipped trying to put the seat belt on me—for the third time—he shoved him out of the way. After helping me, he stood and slammed the door shut. Merrick was standing there, staring at me, so Deacon cuffed him on the head and said, “Move your ass, sailor.”

Merrick broke out of his daze when I grasped my stomach and groaned as a contraction hit. He raced to the other side of the car and jabbed the key at the door. He obviously missed because Deacon cursed as he came up beside him. He snatched the keys and pushed Merrick toward the back door. “I’ll drive,” he sighed, getting into the driver’s seat while Merrick climbed in the back with me. He held my hand as another contraction hit, and I cried out. “How do I always end up being the one to drive to the hospital when one of your women has a baby?” Deacon muttered as he pulled the car out of the driveway.

When the pain passed, I panted, “What do you mean?”

“Skip the story and focus on the road, jackass,” Merrick growled.

I dug my fingers into his arm. “Don’t make him stop. The story will help distract me from the pain.”

“Don’t worry, Audrey. Your husband may be a badass, but so am I. He can’t make me stop talking until I’m done,” Deacon assured, smirking at us through the rearview mirror.