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“I plan to.”
Aleks’s cheeks flush another shade brighter. “Fuck, brother, this is big news!”
I simply grunt at him and turn back to the view. “Again, this isn’t happening any time soon. I want it to be perfect—and if it has any chance of being perfect, I have to put this war behind us. Which brings me to the favor I was gonna ask you.”
“You want me to be the best man?” He drops into a ludicrously deep bow, his nose almost grazing his knees. “It would be my honor!”
I can’t quite hide the smile behind my eye roll. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”
“Right,” Aleks says, straightening up. The smile simmers down but doesn’t quite go away. “Tell me. What’s this favor you want, my liege?”
“I want you to make double sure that all my contingency plans are in place.” His scowl sours but I keep going. “Most importantly, I need you to make sure that Wren knows exactly who to turn to if things don’t go our way. She’ll need someone she can trust. And by that, I mean she needs someone she already trusts.”
“So you’re not actually planning on telling her anytime soon?”
“Brother, we’ve been over this?—”
“Yes, we have—and I’ve told you repeatedly that I don’t agree with keeping this from her. She deserves to know. And I think you believe that, too.”
“I can’t tell her now,” I mutter with a scowl of my own. “She freaked out last night because she couldn’t put the damn crib together on her own. She’s at a sensitive stage in her pregnancy. This would tip her over the edge.”
“If you think she’s gonna get calmer after the little one arrives, you’re fucking delusional, man. This little tidbit won’t add to her stress levels. In fact, I think it just might help.”
My gut sinks the way it only does when he brings up a good point. “I’ll have to explain why I lied to her all this time.”
Aleks raises his eyebrows. “From where I’m standing, you’ll have to do that either way.” He must see that he’s getting through to me, because he steps closer to drive his point home. “If you don’t tell her and she finds out some other way? Hoooo boy, you’re gonna totally fuck things up for yourself. Stop being a chickenshit little bitch and just rip off the Band-Aid. Don’t let this be the self-fulfilling prophecy that you die on.”
One good point after the next. I don’t know who replaced my brother with fucking Socrates, but it’s annoying the hell out of me. “Fine,” I snap. “I’ll tell her tomorrow.”
But even that’s not good enough for him. “What’s wrong with today?”
“Because it’s almost one in the morning, you dipshit. And she hasn’t been sleeping well because of how big her belly has gotten recently.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Your son’s gonna be a large boy.”
I can’t help but smile. “I hope he gets the chance to be. Now, go. Get some sleep and we’ll discuss strategies tomorrow.” He gives me a sloppy, tired salute and makes for the door. “Oh, and Aleks?” He twists around at the door to wait for my last words. “Tell Locksmith to be at our morning meeting. No excuses.”
“Aye, aye, captain. ‘Twould be my pleasure.”
He leaves and I turn back to the view through my office windows. I’m not sure why I’m so resistant to telling Wren the whole truth. Actually, fuck it—that’s a lie. I do know why I’m resistant to telling her. It’s because I promised her I’d be honest with her even while I was smack dab in the middle of lying to her. It doesn’t exactly inspire a lot of trust, and we’ve already been struggling with a lack of the stuff. What if this ruins it?
Fuck.
But Aleks’s argument is still simmering in my head. Tomorrow, I reassure myself. Tomorrow.
I’ll tell her tomorrow when she wakes up. With that decision made, I can justify getting in bed next to her and breathing in her deliciously sweet scent, counting her soft, fluttering breaths, spooning her ripe, glorious body.
I’m already imagining it as I pace down the hall toward our room. As much as I hate it, she’s past the point where I can wake her up for midnight sex whenever I want. She needs her sleep. There’ll be plenty of time for that later, once my son is out of her and the war is won.
Until then, my top priority is that she gets her rest.
Through the shadows of the bedroom, I can see only her silhouette wrapped around the pregnancy pillows she spoons to sleep most nights. She stirs and groans in her sleep as I undress silently.
Could this be it? Is it go-time at last? Is my son coming?
Then she lets out a low moan and jerks upright before I’ve even unbuckled my pants. The garbled scream that comes out of her is almost inhuman.
“Wren!” I vault over the bed towards her. “What’s wrong? Is it your water? Did it break?”
