Page 45 of Embracing the Consequences

Her phone rang, pulling her from her thoughts as she dug through dusty boxes in her office. A quick glance at the screen showed it was Derrick. “Hey,” she greeted while sliding the phone between her ear and shoulder.

“Baby girl, what are you wearing?” Derrick’s rough and tumble voice was low and playful.

She smiled easily and glanced down. “Khakis,” she deadpanned.

He laughed deeply. “Johnny’s sending me down to the county clerk’s office to pick up a couple building plans for some projects coming up. You wanna go for a ride?”

“Fuck yes.” She grinned, dropping the papers she was digging through. She stood up and glanced down at the skirt and blouse she had on.

“So what are you really wearing?” he asked, pressing the issue again, not just being sexy this time. Her boys were all about motorcycle safety when it came to her, and pantyhose, a skirt, and heels were notsmartchoices for riding bitch on a motorcycle. She had been OK with a similar outfit during Mac’s funeral as they’d ridden slowly, but the pregnancy put everything under a microscope, and she found herself overanalyzing constantly.

“I have clothes with me,” she told Derrick. “I’ll change and be right down. Meet you in the lobby in ten?”

“Make it five, baby girl. I’m hungry.” He growled before he disconnected.

She rolled her eyes and hung up, grabbing her bag of spare clothes from her work closet, then heading for her attached bathroom, a perk of being the managing partner.

She made quick work of slipping into a pair of ripped jeans. She left her pantyhose on underneath so the black hose showed through the holes in the denim. She exchanged the blouse for a plain black T-shirt and her black leather jacket. She’d taken to wearing it everywhere she could, only changing into suit coats when she got to the office.

She was in the process of tying up her black combat boots when her phone rang again. “I’m coming,” she snipped at Derrick.

“Not yet you aren’t, but you will be,” he snapped back at her.

She grinned. “On my way.” She ended the call and quickly finished her task.

By the time she was downstairs in the lobby, Derrick was out front on his motorcycle, parked by the front doors.

She shook her head at his impatience and waved to Trevor, the security guard. “Bye T. Have a good night.”

“Alright Miss Carmichael. You take care of yourself now,” the large Jamaican man said with a smile.

Kara pushed through the revolving door and headed out into the crisp late September afternoon. Fall was settling into Illinois, and winter would soon be right behind it. Kara didn’t know how much longer she would be riding with her boys, but for the time being, while she could, she would enjoy every moment of it.

“You’re late,” Derrick greeted her, raising an eyebrow. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back against his motorcycle. His black Taylor Construction T-shirt was stretchedtight across his muscular chest. His beard was about an inch long, recently trimmed so he looked less like a caveman and more like a lumberjack.

She smirked and slinked toward him. “You starving, baby?” she asked, lowering her voice and sashaying her hips as she approached him.

He grinned wickedly and grabbed her hips. She stepped between his spread legs and leaned into him. “You have no idea.” His voice was a low rumble in his chest.

“I’ve got something you can eat,” she teased, watching his green eyes darken with desire.

“I plan to,” he shot back. “Keep it up, and I might just bend you over this bike and do it right where anyone can see.”

She blushed and bit her lip.

“I see you like that idea.” He grinned. His hands slid slowly from her hips, up her sides, over her belly, and up to her breasts, which he cupped gently. “And how are these feeling today?” he asked.

She groaned, arching her back. “They’re sore,” she admitted. At the three-month mark, things were starting to change a bit with her body. The nausea was mostly gone, thank God, but her breasts were starting to grow in size and sensitivity.

“We’ll have to make sure to massage them extra good tonight,” Derrick crooned and pressed a kiss to her lips.

She smiled and leaned into him. His hands slid down her sides and back to her hips again. He pulled her against him and kissed her soundly. When she broke away breathless a moment later, she rubbed a hand over his beard and jaw. “Why are we going to the county clerk’s office?” she asked.

“’Cause we got a couple old house projects coming up. Johnny needs the blueprints,” Derrick answered.

“And the county clerk has the blueprints?” she furrowed her eyebrows together, feeling slow on the uptake.

“Blueprints are public record. They have them for all buildings. You just have to ask for a copy,” Derrick said.

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