fiercely wants a family and to be a mother. She doesn’t know it, but I’ve seen the magazine cut outs and print outs from the internet she’s saved over the years. The ones about mothering that sit in folders in her meditation space that’s taken over a part of our wardrobe. Tripping over that damn meditation cushion irritated me when she first put it there, but once I realised just how fucking much she needs that space, I stopped giving her hell her over it.
“We’re going to have our family, Birdie. I don’t care what I need to do to make that happen, it’s happening.”
She kisses me and says softly, “I know.” Two little words, but the emotion is deafening and I feel it as much as she does.
“Okay, let’s hand over all our money and get this cot home. I’m past ready for your lips as my reward for being the best husband in the world.”
She shakes her head at me, amused. “I wish Max was here; he would have built this cot for me without any expectations.”
Her mention of Max spears my heart, but I love that she brought him up. “My brother may have been the nicer one of the two of us, but he was still a male, angel. He would have been on my side over this.”
She rolls her eyes, still smiling, though, and says, “You’re right. Okay, start making this happen so we can get to the good bit of today.”
I don’t need further encouragement. Birdie is more relaxed over her pregnancy than I’ve seen her in a long time. The blood test she had earlier came back all good, and we’ve talked a lot today about setting up the nursery. We’ve also both acknowledged our relationship needs some attention and talked about how we’ll make that happen. Max’s death has drawn us together again, and while I hate how it happened, I’ll do anything to keep it this way.
26
Winter
* * *
“I met with Torres today and we’ve settled on the new price,” I say to King over the phone as I enter my home late on a Monday night two and a half weeks after Max’s death. I wanted to be home in time for dinner tonight, but I got caught at the clubhouse going over stuff with Ransom. Now, it’s almost 10:00 p.m. and I’m annoyed that I’ve missed time with my wife tonight. She’s likely asleep already; the pregnancy has been kicking her ass this last week.
“Good. Does he have a date for the next shipment?” King surprised the fuck out of me when he relented and agreed to me handling all negotiations with Torres from now on. To say that Torres was happy about it, too, is an understatement.
“Yeah, it’ll arrive in three weeks.”
“Keep me updated.” He pauses. “How are you and Birdie?”
For all his ruthless ways, King cares deeply about his brothers and their loved ones, and he hasn’t let me down over Max’s death. He’s checked in on me and Birdie regularly, offering to help me in any way I need. While he’s got a lot going on in Sydney with the club and his family, he stayed in Melbourne for a week after Max died to help Ransom run things here, something I’ll always be grateful for.
“We’re doing good. She’s excited to see Lily next week.” Birdie’s heading to Sydney for a few days next week to spend time with her mum, and also with Lily. It’s her mother’s birthday, and while I can’t leave Melbourne right now, I made sure she booked time to go. She needs this time with her mum and Lily.
King and I finish our call and I slip my phone in my pocket as I head into the bedroom to see if Birdie’s asleep. Halfway there, she meets me in the hallway, carrying cot sheets.
“Hey, you,” she greets me, bringing her lips to mine. “I was beginning to wonder where you were. Is everything okay?”
I pull her back in for another kiss, needing a lot fucking longer with her than the moment she gave. “I missed you today.”
“I missed you, too.” She grips my waist, frowning. “You seem off. Is it Max?”
“Yeah.” He’s been on my mind all day. Fuck knows why. Nothing happened to trigger it, but that’s the thing I’ve learned about grief over the years; it grabs you when you least expect it. “I’m okay, angel, just tired and missing him.”