Christmas Rider: A Lost Saxons Novel #5.5 Read online

  “Everything okay?”

  Deciding to just rip the plaster off quickly, I say, “I’m doing a pregnancy test.”

  He stares at me a beat then says, “What?”

  “A test. I think I’m pregnant. I’ve been feeling sick all week and I missed my period. Well, I didn’t miss it exactly, but I’m late, and I’m not usually late, but—”

  His finger comes to my lips, and I stop rambling.

  “You’re pregnant?”

  “I don’t know. I’m waiting for it to finish… doing whatever it’s doing. It’s taking a gazillion years. Do you want to come and see what it says? The wait is kind of killing me.”

  His shocked expression morphs into a grin. “Yeah, darlin’, I want to see.”

  I take his hand in mine, curling my fingers around his and he moves closer to me, cupping my face.

  “I love you, B.”

  “I love you too.”

  He searches my face for a moment, looking for what, I don’t know, then he kisses me softly. I melt against him, needing to feel him, needing the safety of his arms, and he gives it to me, enclosing me in his grip.

  For a moment, we just stand locked in each other’s hold. I suck up all his warmth, all his reassurance, smell the leather of his kutte and his aftershave.

  He kisses the top of my head and says, “Come on, darlin’. Let’s go look.”

  Having Logan by my side gives me the strength to walk back into the bathroom and to the test, which is still sitting on the edge of the basin, where I left it. He massages my shoulder as I tip the test towards me and stare at the little window.

  Is that… is that a line? I knew I should have paid that little bit extra for the digital version of this thing. I grab the leaflet and quickly flip through to the part about what the symbol in the window means. A plus means I’m pregnant. I slide my eyes back to the test and the line is forming fast now, becoming solider by the second until the definitive outline of a plus sign is clear.

  “Well?” Lo asks. “What’s the verdict?”

  My stomach flip-flops.

  “I guess I’m not doing any drinking over Christmas.”

  I’m pregnant. Holy shit. I’m pregnant.

  I brush my hair back and blow out a breath, then I press a hand to my belly and let my lips curve into a smile.

  I’m having a baby. I take a couple more deep inhalations, then glance up at Logan, who has the leaflet in his hand now.

  “You’re pregnant?”

  “According to the test, yeah. I mean, I guess I need the doctor to confirm it, but—”

  He doesn’t let me finish. His brings my lips to meet his mouth and then he devours me. His tongue seeks entrance and I give it to him, even as his fingers go under my top, skimming over my back in a way that makes my muscles quiver. He pulls back, breathless, his forehead resting against mine.

  “Are you good with this?”

  “Yeah, honey, I’m good.”

  “You wanted to wait, though. This isn’t exactly waiting, love. We were married a month ago.”

  I did want to wait, but I’m pregnant now. “Plans adapt, Lo. You’re okay with this?”

  “Yeah, babe, more than okay. We definitely need to look into moving now. The flat isn’t big enough for us and a kid.”

  He’s not wrong. The space is good, don’t get me wrong, but by the time we got the Christmas tree in the living room, it shrank it to the size of a postage stamp. Plus, we need a garden. I want somewhere safe for our kid to play.

  Fuck… a kid.

  “Best Christmas present ever,” he tells me.

  “It’s nine days until Christmas,” I point out.

  “It’s the best early Christmas present ever, then.”

  This, right here, is everything I ever wanted with Logan—the house, the ring and now the baby. I feel warmth spread through me. Things couldn’t be more perfect.

  Chapter Three

  Wade

  Eight days until Christmas…

  “Why do we need a tree again?” I demand, watching as Paige unwraps yet another box of baubles. I don’t understand the desire to put ornaments on a plastic tree, but Paige was insistent we have decorations. It’s apparently tradition.

  “Because, Captain Grumpy Pants, it’s Christmas.”

  She’s obsessed with this phrase.

  My brows climb up my forehead. “Captain what?”

  She turns to me, her hands going to her hips in a way that has my dick twitching. I love when she gets haughty. She looks like a naughty vixen.

  “It’s Christmas, Wade. It’s a time when people do stupid shit like putting up a tree and being jolly. Embrace it.”

  “I am jolly.”

  Her eyes roll. “You’re absolutely the antithesis of jolly.”

  I have no idea what this means, but I gather it’s not a compliment. My retort is shattered when she starts to climb on the edge of the sofa, leaning dangerously to reach the top section of the tree.

  I move fast, my hands circling her waist as she wobbles a little.

  “Are you crazy?” I demand, lifting her back onto the floor.

  “Wade! What are you doing? I need to reach the top of the tree.”

  “Yeah, not by climbing it like a cat. Tell me where you need this to go and I’ll put it up for you.”

  My desire to protect her always takes me by surprise, but it shouldn’t. Paige is my world. I’ll do anything to keep her safe—even if it is just putting cheap trinkets on a fake tree. Before Paige, I never had this, although I’m developing this same overprotective streak for my little sister. When she was taken, I swear I was ready to rip the world apart to find her, but I didn’t expect her to have another champion.

  Things have been good between us for the past few weeks, even with all the strain of my sister being snatched and finding out she’s been hooking up with motormouth, Jem Harlow. As loath as I am to admit it, he’s good for her. She seems a lot less uptight, and she smiles more. She also moved here, which, I’m not going to lie, makes me happy as fuck. I hated her being so far away.

  “I can do things for myself, you know?” she grumbles.

  I lean forward and kiss her softly. “I know, but you fall and I’ll be upset, so, let me help.”

  “Fine. I need all these placed around the top of the tree. I’ll decorate the bottom while you do that.”

  “Okay.”

  “How’s Piper doing? I haven’t seen her all week.”

  Paige asking about my sister fills me with warmth. I’m glad they get on. It makes my life easier, and it’s nice to see them bonding.

  “She’s bruised up, but she seems better. Jem said there’s been a few nightmares, but that’s to be expected.”

  Merrick and his bunch of thugs got their comeuppance for touching my sister. She may not have agreed, but she was Club property the moment she got in that car with Charlie and came to sit at my bedside while I was in the hospital. Taking her was a declaration of war, which is why we didn’t leave any of his guys breathing at the factory where they were holding her. I wanted to burn the place to the ground, and if we’d had time, I would have, but concern for Piper meant we got out of there fast.

  Paige pauses, a bauble clutched in her hand. “Maybe I’ll see if she feels up to lunch or something tomorrow.”

  I squeeze her hip, letting her know how much I appreciate this. “That would be good, sweetheart.”

  “I adore your sister, Wade. It’s hardly a chore.”

  “Unlike the fucking Christmas nightmare we’re engaged in right now.”

  The glare she fires in my direction is adorable. “Christmas is not a nightmare. Besides, if you want to see a nightmare visit your sister and Jem’s place. Cami said it’s like Santa puked up in there.”

  “Jem’s a saint, clearly.”

  She smacks me in the gut. “It makes her happy, and he’ll do whatever he needs to in order to keep her smiling. I think it’s cute. They’re cute together.”

  My hand comes up. �
��Don’t. She’s my sister and I might have to hurt Jem if you continue.”

  “Are you two boys okay now?”

  She means after our little throwdown. We both smacked the shit out of each other until Piper broke it up.

  “Yeah, just about. I’m still pissed they both lied, but I get why they did.” Kind of. I wish Piper had just been honest with me and not scared to tell me the truth, but Jem’s insight into my little sister had me re-evaluating everything. Her parents seem like a piece of work. I feel better knowing she’s not embroiled with them any longer.

  “Babe, you’ve got to let it go.”

  “I have.”

  Her eyes roll. “Actually let it go, not just say you have.”

  “I’ve let it go,” I assure her.

  She rolls to her toes and kisses the stubble on the side of my cheek. “Good. They’re family. We don’t hold grudges against family.”

  I want to point out that she doesn’t talk to her own, and Piper is the only member of mine I keep in contact with, but I’m not sure that will keep her Christmas cheer in place. Instead, I lean down and capture her mouth. She leans into me, her body melting against me as I deepen the kiss. Having Paige is my favourite pastime. I love this woman with everything I have, and it pains me to know that Dylan hurt her when I exposed him as a traitor. It makes me want to rip his fucking head off.

  This is part of the reason I’m considering getting my scars covered with a new tattoo. I hate that she has such a visible reminder on my body of all that darkness. She wasn’t on the scene when I got shot by Tap, but I know she looks at those scars and remembers the aftermath, which involved her getting roughed up by Dylan. Dane, who is the Devil’s Dogs VP, is my usual go-to guy for ink, so I’ll have to see what he says once they’re healed a little more.

  My thoughts dissipate when she leans against me, pressing her pelvis to mine. My dick instantly starts to harden. Fuck, this woman. She’s everything to me. I’d die to protect her.

  Needing her, needing to feel her beneath me, I tangle my fingers in her hair and take her down onto the sofa, still keeping my lips locked to hers. I need to be inside her, now, but I need to get her nice and worked up first. Her sweater pushed up to her chin, I pull her tits free of her bra and suck her left nipple into my mouth before moving to the right. She shifts beneath me, catching my groin as she does and I let out a carnal groan.

  She drives me crazy, in all the right ways, and I show her for the next hour precisely just how much.

  Chapter Four

  Piper

  Seven days until Christmas…

  The clubhouse is busy tonight and the mood is jovial. For a bunch of men who claim not to like Christmas, they’re certainly doing a lot of drinking in the name of the festive season. I don’t know where they put it all and how they stay standing after putting it wherever it goes. I can drink a considerable amount, thanks to years of drinking at social events for my parents, but these boys make me look positively lightweight.

  Still, I’m not one to give up easily, so I order another G and T and carry it back over to the table where Jem is sitting with his little brother, Adam. He’s the quietest of the three Harlow boys. He reminds me of Logan, with that brooding mysteriousness that begs to be explored.

  Unlike Weed, who is making a beeline for our table, a goofy grin on his face. I brace, unsure what the man is going to do. Before Jem and I became public knowledge, he would flirt outrageously with me, and given how glazed he looks right now, he might have forgotten I’m not on the market. Jem will punch him—sozzled or not.

  He doesn’t come to me, though. He grabs Adam around the neck and plants a huge sloppy kiss on the side of his cheek.

  Adam takes this in his stride, clearly used to Weed’s shenanigans.

  “Merry fucking season’s greetings.” His eyes are heavy, sitting at half-mast.

  “How drunk are you?” Jem asks, amusement in his tone.

  His mouth moves into a sloppy grin. “Sober enough to realise you’re still an ugly bastard.”

  I snort, I can’t help it, but his eyes zero in on me. “Lovely, Piper. If you ever get bored of this fuck nugget, I’m available.”

  He sinks into the chair next to Adam, barely managing to find it, and reaches for the nearest pint on the table, never mind the fact it’s Adam’s drink.

  “Thank you for that stunning offer,” I say, trying to avoid the beer on his breath, which could knock out a buffalo, “but I think I’ll pass. I’m very happy with Jem.”

  “Don’t you have girls lining up at the door?” Jem asks. “A string of harems at your behest?”

  “Too many to count,” Weed admits.

  “Then why in the fuck are you creeping on my girl?”

  Weed gives an exaggerated shift of his shoulders. “It’s amusing. You arseholes are all ‘beat my chest’ about your women.” He slams a fist against his sternum to prove his point.

  “There’s no one special in your life, Weed?” I ask, genuinely curious about the man.

  “Just his right hand,” Adam says around a smirk, sounding more like his older brother than is safe.

  “You’re one to talk,” Weed smacks him on the bicep.

  “Are you boys planning on putting up a Christmas tree in here?” I ask, peering around the common room. There isn’t a hint of tinsel anywhere.

  Adam snorts. “If you decorate the clubhouse like you did yours and Jem’s place, Derek will pitch a fit.”

  “It isn’t that bad—”

  “It looks like a grotto,” Weed interrupts.

  “It’s Christmas. It’s supposed to,” I counter.

  It’s also taking my mind off being held captive by that lunatic, Merrick. Those memories are still as fresh now as they were when it first happened.

  As if sensing where my thoughts have gone, Jem squeezes my leg.

  “Come on, angel. Let’s get out of here.”

  He stands, holding his hand out to me and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet.

  “Goodnight, Adam. Weed.”

  “Night, Piper.”

  “Yeah, night girl,” Weed says.

  It takes us a while to leave the clubhouse. Mainly because there’s so many people around to say night to, then we head out into the car park. The cold air hits me immediately, and Jem pulls me into his side, sharing his heat with me. And he is warm. He’s like a giant radiator.

  “We didn’t have to leave, Jem,” I tell him as we approach the car. I’m too sore to ride, so he borrowed a vehicle from one of the Club’s garages—I think the Moor Street one.

  “As much as I love watching Weed off his face, I’d rather spend time with you.”

  This makes my stomach fill with warmth. “You would?”

  He moves closer and cups my face in his hands. “Yeah, angel. You’re far more interesting than Weed.”

  He kisses me hard, wet and long, until I’m a panting mess.

  “Let’s get you home, Pip.”

  Home. I love how that sounds and I love having my home with Jem. He’s fast become my entire life, and I don’t care how that might look to outsiders. He takes care of me like no one else in my life, except for Cami, has.

  “What are we doing for Christmas, Jem?” I ask as we both climb into the car.

  We haven’t really spoken about it. I feel a little like I’m crashing his plans, considering my move here was last minute.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Well, what do you usually do?”

  “We all get together and have breakfast at Mum’s before heading over to the clubhouse to drink ourselves stupid the rest of the day and night, but if you don’t feel like doing that we can stay home.”

  I know his entire family, so sitting down with them isn’t a terrifying prospect to me. “Okay, so we’re going to your mum’s for breakfast and then the clubhouse.”

  He glances at me. “Angel…”

  “You’re not changing your plans because of me, Jem. Besides, it’s not like I have a
ny desire to spend the holidays with my parents.”

  I really don’t, considering it was Grant’s fault I got abducted and my mother sided with him. I have no inclination to spend time with either of them ever again. Maybe in time, I might cool down, but I doubt it. I had to debase myself to peeing in front of complete strangers because of Grant. I’m not sure I can forgive or forget that. Not to mention the fact he threatened both me and Cami.

  He squeezes my thigh. “Okay then.”

  “I love you, Jem. I don’t know if I say it enough, but I do.”

  “You could always say it a few more times. Just so the message sinks in. Why don’t you start by listing all my best qualities?”

  I roll my eyes at him. “Just drive.”

  “But—”

  “Jem…” I lean over the centre console and press a kiss to his mouth, silencing him. His fingers instantly collar my neck, tangling in the hair there. Kissing Jem makes my body quiver and I wish we were home, so he could take me.

  When we come apart, we’re both a little breathless.

  “I need you inside me,” I tell him.

  He turns to the steering wheel and flicks the key. “You just want me for my body. I feel so used.”

  The man is like a kid. “Absolutely, now get us home, so I can have my way with you.”

  He grins. “There’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

  Chapter Five

  Beth

  Six days until Christmas…

  The air is bitter today. I’m glad to be inside my office, cosy and warm. Logan isn’t so keen on me being here alone, after what happened with Mr William Brosen, but we haven’t seen him since the day he cornered me in the office. I don’t know if that’s a positive or a negative, but I’m glad he’s no longer around. The last thing we need is a private investigator poking about. Simon Wilson is dead, of that I have no doubt. Brosen, and the police, can’t prove anything, but I still don’t like it. I do not want any of the guys in jail because of that nosey bastard. It sounds cold, but Wilson got what he deserved, completely. He hurt Liv and Dean. He nearly killed me. He shot Wade.