Page 177 of Mended Hearts

In nothing but our underwear, chest to chest, my hands found his back on instinct. Lifting my chin, my voice came out soft, like melted butter. “You should’ve told me.”

“I know,” he breathed, cupping my face with those big palms, close enough to taste my air but not quite kiss me. “And I’m so sorry. Greyson said it was classified and he could face serious consequences just for telling me.”

“AboutThunderstrike?”

“About whyThunderstrikeexists.”

“Hmm.” So it started when he was still in the Navy. What the fuck had our big grump gotten himself into?

When I didn’t say anything, Ollie hesitated. “Hmm?”

“What do you want me to say to that?”

His hands slid from my neck to my shoulders, down my arms. “I guess I expected you to rail a little, I don’t know.”

I turned to look out at the starry sky for a beat, then brought my gaze back to him. “It was an impossible scenario.”

“What?” he asked, disbelieving.

“You honor me and betray him. Or you protect him and lie to me.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re not the most important part of my fucking life, it’s just?—”

“Ollie,” I breathed, the chaos in my head finally quieting. “I have eleven siblings. I get it.”

“Really?” he chuckled, warm breath brushing my cheek.

“I still say you guys should’ve looped me in. I still sayyoushould’ve told me. But I was thinking about it—about James or Pax or Axel. And yeah, trouble. I get it.”

He cracked a crooked smile—the kind that made my knees feel weak. “Oh, nowI’mtrouble?”

“Obviously.”

“Please forgive me, baby. I’m so fucking glad you know now. I hated keeping it from you.”

“I believe you,” I said softly, soaking in the warmth of his eyes.

“But do you forgive me?”

“Got any more skeletons in your closet I should know about?”

“No, baby.”

“Then yes,” I said, curt and sure. “I forgive you, Ollie.”

“Thank fuck,” he panted, diving into my hair to kiss me breathless. When he finally came up for air, he vowed, “We’ll keep them safe. You and the kids. That’s all that matters.”

“We don’t have another choice,” I whispered, rising on my toes as his hands curved protectively over my belly. I stole another kiss, tugging gently on his lower lip.

Ollie made a low, contented rumble in his chest, then pulled back just enough to rest his forehead to mine.

“Gotta say—I like this fighting naked theory.”

27

If You Put Lipstick on a Pig…

OLIVER

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