Page 70 of With A Little Luck
“You can always take a mid-morning nap.” Hart chuckles, almost like he can read my mind. “But we need to make sure you and the nugget are fed.”
“Thanks, Hart.”
“Always.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Trigg
Ishould have put a camera in the bathroom in the pack bedroom. My attempt at being considerate backfired in my face.
Quincy and Hartley have been in there for so long that I can only assume they’re doing more than taking a quick shower. There’s no doubt, Quincy needs access to alpha pheromones…and more. I’d just like her to obtain all of those things fromme.
I don’t enjoy starting the day pouty, but here we are.
If they take much longer, I might take it upon myself to check in and verify everything is okay.
The door to my room flies open, and my hand pivots from holding the mouse to sliding under the edge of the desk.
I would normally go for the Glock, but Quincy is somewhere around here. If I had to discharge the weapon, she would hear it. Wrapping my palm around the handle of the knife, I pull it from the sheath and twist.
My eyes roll, and I shove the knife away as Ridge strides across the room. None of my fail-safes alerted me to any outside threats, so reaching for a weapon was likely an overreaction, anyway.
“What?” I ask, closing my laptop. It features all the interior feeds, and Ridge doesn’t need to see that.
He tosses himself down on the end of my bed, and my forehead wrinkles. This might be his home, but this is the space I was given. He should have knocked and waited for me to grant him entrance.
“Were those links you sent me last night legit?” he asks, leaning back on his forearms as his legs hang off the end of the bed.
That’s what he wants to ask about?
I can’t decide if I’m annoyed or impressed. A large part of me assumed he wanted an update on Costa Maloney.
“They were,” I assure him, twisting in my chair until we face one another.
“So, basically, Quincy could have major complications with the pregnancy unless she has constant access to alphas?” Ridge pulls a hand to his face, scratching his jaw.
“That is correct.” I cross my ankles, stretching back in the chair. “The times of highest risk are during the first trimester and the last eight weeks of pregnancy. She made it through the first window of concern, but she’s in the second now.”
“How many weeks pregnant is she?” His forehead wrinkles. “I tried a couple of different pregnancy calculator apps, and I only confused myself even worse than when I tried to count that shit out on the calendar on my phone.”
“Thirty-three weeks and a few days.” I frown. “I think. Possibly closer to thirty-four weeks. I based my calculations from the time I asked how far along she was, and she told me she was thirty-one weeks, but I could be off by a bit since she didn’t mention how many days she was.”
“So, we have six or seven weeks left,” he says, sitting up and leaning forward. “We need to wipe out Costa and any ofhis minions before then. I don’t want to have to deal with this bullshit once the baby comes.”
“That makes two of us,” I agree flatly.
I do like that he saidwehave six or seven weeks left. It helps me feel included. I have no intention of leaving, even once my job is complete.
“Shit,” Ridge grumbles, leaning back and digging in his pocket. “I’ve got to keep an eye out for the call from the gate guards.” He chuckles. “As it turns out, if you shop local, pay an absolutelyastronomicalrush delivery fee, and promise to take care of the drivers, you can get shit delivered within four hours.”
I squint, trying to decipher what the hell that means. If he purchased extravagant items, they better not be courting gifts for Quincy. Not unless he plans to tell her they’re also from me. I won’t allow him to one-up me, and I tell him all of that.
Ridge barks a laugh, stands up, and flips me off. “What I did or didn’t buy Quincy has nothing to do with you. You’re not sponging off my presence of mind. Buy your own shit.”
I checked his financials when Easton mentioned Ridge’s yearly earnings, and he is more than capable of providing Quincy and the baby a comfortable life without ever needing to take another contract. However, I’ve seen cheap individuals who only maintain wealth because they’re too frugal to buy necessities, let alone gifts.
Now I can’t decide if I’ll be more annoyed if he did buy Quincy something lavish or if I’ll be more bothered if whatever he ordered isn’t for her at all.
