mouth lifted. “‘But my mouth would encourage you; comfort from my lips would bring you relief.’ You’re the embodiment of comfort for me.”
Tightening his arms around her, he smiled and kissed those perfect ruby lips.
“Mine.”
***
Myrtle
Footsteps pounding through the house preceded the hammering knock at the bedroom door by a few seconds. She gathered the sheet in her hands and flung it over her and Bane only a moment before the door flew open, rebounding when it hit the wall. She flinched at the idea of damage left behind.
“Luke, we’re guests in this house. Take care, son.” Bane’s voice was gravelly and low, but not unkind, and she loved how he instinctively knew the right tactic to take with each of her brothers.
“Blackie said there’s breakfast at the main house, back where we were before you came here. He said there’s pan-a-cakes.” Luke shuffled to the end of the bed and sat, staring at Myrt and Bane. “I want pan-a-cakes, Myrtie.”
“Myrtie.” Bane’s voice was musing, filled with humor, and she glared at him, taking in how her expression only made his eyebrows arch more. “Rhymes with birdie. I kinda like that.” He turned to look at Luke. “I also am a big fan of pancakes, so I appreciate you lettin’ us know about the goodies. Right now, your sister and I need to get up and dressed, and neither of us can do so with you sittin’ here. So can you skedaddle back to the kitchen and wait? We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
“Okie-dokie, Bane.” Luke gave a wave and left through the open door.
“Luke.” Bane’s voice wasn’t a roar, but it was definitely pitched to catch Luke’s attention, so Myrt wasn’t surprised to see the boy’s head pop back into view. “Doors are like gates. You open it, you close it, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.” Luke’s grin told her he wasn’t upset at Bane’s orders. “That actually makes a lot of sense, Bane. Got it.”
“Thank you.” The door closed with a snick. “You’re so sweet to my brothers.”
“You know, I don’t think Luke’s slow. I suspect his brain just works differently.” Bane looked at her, expression serious. “You should have a talk with Vanna Mom. Her son has autism, and she’s got a headful of knowledge about all kind of different things to do with developmental delays. I wouldn’t take anything your daddy said about him as gospel. Let’s find out what might really be going on, see how we can best support him.”
“And that right there is one of the reasons I love you so much.” She shoved the wave of emotion down, fanning her hand in front of her face. “You can’t be too nice to me, Bane. I might not be pukey, but I’m weepy.”
Heat covered her belly, and she knew without looking that he’d spread a hand over the baby’s bump. “You’re gonna have this baby.” A statement, but she still nodded in confirmation. “Our baby.”
Myrt felt her control dissolving, and she threw herself against him, shoving her face into the pillow. “You can’t be nice.” Even to her ears the words were warbling and watery, nearly indecipherable through the sudden tears.
“Oh, baby.” His arms came around her, a hand flicking the sheet away as he rolled them to the edge of the bed and stood with her wrapped around him. “I’m always gonna be nice to you. You gotta get used to it.”
Half an hour later, they were presentable, tramping through the woods on what looked like a well-worn path she scarcely remembered from the previous night. “Every time I went outside with the girls, we headed the other direction, across the field to the woods where the creek is. I didn’t even know this house was here.” Bane’s fingers tightened around hers, and she looked down at their joined hands. She gave herself five seconds to remember what those hands had felt like as they roamed her body, then cut off the memory. Or tried to. It kept creeping in as she looked at his hips, his shoulders, his mouth— Stop it. There are kids present. She focused on the path in front of her, watching their feet trample through the dew-kissed grass.
“Baby.” He sounded amused. She glanced up at him, finding a knowing look on his face. “Whacha thinkin’ about?”
“Shut up.” Myrt buried her head against one shoulder, heaving them both up in a great shrug she held in place. “Nothing at all to do with you.”
“Methinks—” He swung around to face her,