Hopelessly Shattered (Sacred Sinners MC - Texas Chapter #1) by Bink Cummings

Author:Bink Cummings [Cummings, Bink]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B01LXC7SYO
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-09-25T23:00:00+00:00

PAST

“Oh god. Brent, that feels amazing,” I groan, lost in the merriment of his thumbs massaging the arch of my foot as I soak in a lavender scented bubble bath. Yesterday, Brent brought me home this bath fizz thingy, and today, drew me a bath using it. It’s flippin’ divine. I wonder if he’d pick me up a few more if I asked.

Deft fingers press into the pad of my big toe, and another groan of pleasure slips free. This is too damn good. With all of the water retention I’ve had during my pregnancy, this is better than a hot fudge sundae on a hot summer day.

Resting my head against the back of the tub, I exhale a peaceful sigh, melting into the bliss-filled water. He spoils me so much. You’d think by now that our new relationship, honeymoon stage would be over. Doesn’t that stop after a year? For us, it’s going stronger than ever. Sometimes, I feel like I’m living in a dream with a perfect man, and his even perfecter body. Is that even a word? It should be. Brent’s body is the epitome of perfecter.

“You’re a sucker for foot massages,” he teases with a smile in his voice.

“Or I’m just a sucker for yours.” I blast him a sly grin, winking like a dork. In reward, he lifts my foot from the water and tenderly kisses my instep. “You’re too fucking cute, babe.”

A warmth skitters through me that has nothing to do with the water temperature.

Mashing my lips together, I smother my impending smile and scrub my cheeks to hide the flourishing redness. I hate that he affects me this way. That the butterflies flutter without any notice. That he can make me smile with just a single, carefree word. He’s dangerous to my heart. I’ve known that since the moment I laid eyes on him. But I’m unable to muster enough courage to protect myself. Not when I know the reward far outweighs the possible heartache. Even if he doesn’t say he loves me, I feel it in his kiss, his touch, his words. Actions speak louder than empty promises.

A whimper picks up on the baby monitor that’s sitting on the vanity. “Rox must be awake.” Abruptly, I sit up, grabbing the tub's edge, water sloshing up my sides. I’m ready to get out at a moment’s notice if she cries.

“She’ll be okay. She whimpers in her sleep all the time.” Brent’s calming tenor soothes my fraying nerves.

“But what if she needs me?” I pout.

“Babe,” he drawls in that tone that says he thinks I’m cute for being overly paranoid. I can’t help it. Being a mother has brought out a lot of things in me, this protective mama bear mentality being the most prevalent.

Brent slips a pruning hand from the water and dries it on his pant leg, darkening the denim in the process. Fishing into his front pocket, he pulls out a square, black box and rests it on the lip of the tub.

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