Speak of the Devil – Westcott Family Read Online S.L. Scott

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
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I sit down, my mind still reeling with concern for Shane. Though I know this isn’t a life-threatening surgery, it’s still going to take time to recover. If I had to guess, he’s not the best patient, though I’ll be happy to take care of him.

Having the best news of my life and no one to share it with has tears welling in my eyes.

I’m pregnant.

I’m going to have a baby.

With Shane.

“Cate?”

I look up, and the quick action causes a tear to fall down my cheek. Tommy is standing in front of me. “Are you okay?” he asks. The concern wrenching his eyes down on the outside corners seems like it would be reserved for his family, the bands he works with, or his friends. Not for me—a woman Tommy met a few hours ago and the person responsible for Shane getting injured. But there it is, comforting and earnest.

A nod is managed, but I’m too choked up and afraid I’ll start sobbing if I speak. He’s kind enough not to force me. “Would you like to wait with me and the others?”

“Yes.” I stand, and he waits until I’m ready to walk. He starts down a different hall than the one I came down.

“They put us in a private room to lessen any disturbances the band would cause.”

“With fans?”

“Yes. Can you imagine Nikki hanging around, worrying about her cousin while being mobbed by fans? Not a good scenario.” He knocks and then opens the door. “It’s me.”

Laird stands when he sees me. Nikki’s on her phone beside her brother but quick to hang up. Tommy shuts the door behind us and then takes a seat on the rolling stool in the corner, leaving the couch for me and Nikki.

Nikki comes toward me first with her hands out. Taking mine in hers, she asks, “How are you doing? Are you okay? Hurt?” Pulling me into her arms, she’s warm and welcoming, hugging me like I’m an old friend and not a high school acquaintance she barely knew. Leaning back, she looks me over. “I heard you were hurt.”

“I’m fine. There’s a little bruising on my hip but no swelling. I’m a bit sore, but nothing is broken.”

Laird remains standing by her side, and I’ve never seen such a big guy look shy. “Am I that intimidating?” I tease, hoping to break the ice.

He smiles, and I can see so much of Shane in it that I feel close to him simply because of the resemblance. I also know he’s someone I can joke with. He chuckles, light and not from the heart, but we’re all in the same circumstance—waiting to hear an update about Shane.

Rubbing a hand over his head, he replies, “Kind of.” As a group, we laugh. It feels good and like I’m a part of their club. “It’s going to be a long night. Do you want to take the couch?”

“Please sit,” I say to Nikki and move to sit on the other end from her.

Laird stands at the window, but with no view and it being too dark to see anything, he makes his way to a chair at a table in the corner. Tommy’s sitting in the other chair.

There’s silence for a moment, and then Laird starts talking about Mack sitting up on his own. The superstar lead singer of one of the biggest bands in the world melts. “Ah, my little Mackie. That’s good.”

They talk about a lot of everything to nothing and then sitting peacefully in silence and playing on their phones. I join in here and there, but so much is on my mind that I struggle to focus.

Nikki shows me a photo of her daughter, and Laird shares pics of his twins. My heart swells in happiness thinking about the secret I’m literally carrying. When the guys leave for coffee, Nikki says, “I heard the medic ask you about being pregnant.” She allows space for a response, but my throat is tightening as tears spring to my eyes again. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but if you need a friend . . .” She knows. Reaching across the couch, she gives my hand a little squeeze, and it’s enough for me to know she’d listen and be there for me.

I swallow the lump in my throat but don’t speak. The effort will be raw, and I’m too close to the edge of breaking down—happiness over a baby and worry why this surgery is taking so long. I turn my hand and squeeze her hand back.

The door opens and we step apart. A nurse comes in and I’m on my feet and then Nikki follows. The nurse says, “Surgery is going well. They’ll be wrapping up soon, and then the doctor will come speak to you, Mrs. Faris.”

Nikki steps forward as if she were answering roll call. “It’s Crow actually.”


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