so much, and he hates that she was ever unhappy. That’s how some people love. When he looks at you, he sees the man who saved his woman when she was just a kid. If you gave him a chance, he would be a good friend to you.”
“Not your brother, though.”
“Shane’s never had anything bad happen to him directly. He’s always been strong and respected. My mom and I treat him like royalty. I loved him from the moment I first saw him. Until then, I was jealous that Mom was going to pay attention to someone else. Then I saw Shane, and I fell so deeply in love that I would take a bullet for him. That made Shane strong and confident, but he loves too deeply. He absorbs other people’s pain.”
Feeling cold now, I think about finding my shirt. “When he looks at you, Shane sees a threat. Men connected to you tried to kill his wife and sons. Shane has trouble moving past shit. He holds on to pain and lets it fester deep until the smallest reminder returns him to the original sin. With that said, he loves me, and he’ll love his nephew or niece. That kid will remind him of you, and that will make you seem less like a threat. Shane will never be easygoing like River, but he will watch out for you. Not just because it’s his job as VP, but a little version of you is growing inside one of his favorite people.”
Goliath doesn’t speak for a few minutes. His expression remains stuck on pissed. Then he mutters in his growly voice. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“I’m sorry about yours.”
“She isn’t so bad.”
“Maybe not now, but you were little once, and the world was out to get you like it’s out for everyone. She was the only person you had. No father or big sister to watch your back. I can’t forgive her for not loving you when I bet you were the cutest little fucker.”
Goliath allows a half-smile. “Now, you’re kissing my ass.”
“Not really. I have babies on the brain, and I keep wondering what you were like as a kid. Then I imagine her treating you wrong, and I want to punch her in the face.”
“Don’t punch my mom.”
“How about I slap her around a little? Nothing broken, just give her two rosy cheeks.”
Goliath again allows a smile. “Okay, but she likes to scratch. I saw her fight a church bitch years ago, and Mom went straight for the eyes.”
“Good to know.”
Goliath smiles easier now, wearing a slight grin even when we’re silent. I notice how the aggression he usually holds in his shoulders is gone. He lets his gaze wash over my body as I fiddle with the quilt.
“Do you want a boy or a girl?” he asks.
“I don’t care. Whatever the kid is, I’m naming it Kirby.”
“Why?” he says, frowning again.
“When I was little, I thought Kirk’s name was Kirby. I think that maybe I heard my mom asking, ‘Will Kirk be there?’ a few times and just got it in my head how that was his name. My mom was so happy when I said I wanted to name my kid after the man who saved her.”
“Shouldn’t you name your boy after it’s father or grandfather?”
“Do you want the kid named Dean?”
Instantly irritated, he growls, “No.”
“Then why would you ask?”
“What about your father?”
“He doesn’t want another person in the house named after him. Though a girl named Dylan might be badass.”
“Kirk Johansson is dead, right?”
“Yeah. He died when I was little. My mom had a breakdown after his death. She’s never really been the same, but it’s not like I knew her well before he died. She was just my mom. Still, he’s the reason I exist, so I’m going to name my firstborn after him. And no one, not even the guy whose big balls created the kid, will talk me out of it.”
Goliath gives his big shoulders a shrug. “Don’t matter to me anyhow.”
“What if I have a girl and name her Butterfly?”
“Don’t care.”
“Do you think the men at the clubhouse will like her name?”
“Don’t care.”
“They’ll razz you, Goliath P. Giant. Oh, they’ll razz you good. But don’t you worry. I have no intention of naming our daughter, Butterfly. Or Rainbow or Peach or anything so frilly. I didn’t really care for my name growing up. I liked Taylor’s better. People don’t sound as scared when they say, ‘Shelby’s gonna kick your ass,’