The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 351

Chapter 173-1

Two days later

+25 Points

The airport terminal is buzzing with early-morning holiday travelers, but Locke moves through the crowd like a heavy wave cutting straight through water. He has both of our leather weekend bags slung over one massive shoulder, carrying them effortlessly while his free hand stays firmly tucked around mine.

“Locke, seriously, I can carry my own bag,” I say, glancing up at him as we join the line for TSA security. “You look like a pack mule.”

“Not happening, baby,” he grunts softly, pulling me just a fraction closer as a guy with a rolling suitcase cuts a little too close to my side. Locke gives the man a flat, unyielding look until the guy stammers a quick apology and backs off. “You’re walking light today. That’s the rule.”

I shake my head, a warm laugh bubbling up in my chest. He’s been like this since we woke up at four in the morning: hovering, watching my every step, treating me like I’m made of glass just because I had a tiny spell of dizziness yesterday.

“I’m pregnant, Locke, not made of porcelain.”

“Same difference to me. Now hush and look innocent so we don’t get hauled out of line for a body search.

”

“I don’t think that I’d be the reason we get searched, handsome.”

“Yeah.” He looks down at his dark clothing, his motorcycle boots, his tattooed hands. “You’re probably right, to be fair.”.

As we reach the front of the security line, the TSA officer gestures for our documents. Locke reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out our IDs and passports. He hands them over to the agent, but because of how close we’re standing, I catch a clear look at the open blue book in the agent’s hand.

My eyes widen. I blink once. Twice.

Reginald Tanner.

I freeze, staring at the thick black lettering on the official page. I look up at Locke’s broad, scarred jaw, his dirty-blond hair, the dangerous, quiet calm that surrounds him everywhere he goes – and then down at Re ginald.

The agent checks our faces, stamps the boarding passes, and hands the passports back with a dull, “Have a safe flight.”

The second we walk past the barrier toward the metal detectors, I grab Locke’s sleeve, my eyes dancing with pure, unfiltered delight.

“Reginald?” I whisper, putting a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “Reginald Tanner?”

Locke’s jaw tightens, but his gray eyes light up with reluctant humor as he quickly shoves the passport back into his inner leather pocket. “Not a word, Zara. I mean it.”

“Oh, come on! Reginald?” I tease, walking backward in front of him with a wide grin. “It sounds so… dignifie

12

<Chapter 123—

+25 Points

1. So polite. Does my Dad know? Does Mayhem know you’re secretly a nineteenth-century aristocrat?”

“They know, and they also know better than to use it if they like having all their teeth,” he says, catching me by the waist and pulling me back into his side before I bump into a wall. “You, however, get away with a lot of things nobody else does. But don’t push your luck, baby.”

“What does Evelyn call you?” I ask suddenly, a sudden spark of curiosity striking me as I look up at him. “I mean, she’s known you since long before you ever went by ‘Locke’.” ”

Locke rolls his shoulders, a low, reluctant sigh escaping his chest as he looks away for a split second.

“Rex,” he mutters. “She calls me Rex.”

“Rex?” My smile softens, my eyes sparkling. “Wait… doesn’t that mean king?”

“Yeah,” he says, his jaw setting again as he looks down at me. “It does.”

“I actually really like that,” I say softly. “Rex. It’s very regal. Noble and strong.”

He grunts, but he presses a quick kiss to the crown of my head. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that? Thank Christ you’re adorable.”

We make our way down the bustling concourse toward our gate, finding a quieter diner tucked into a corner near the big glass windows overlooking the tarmac. The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.

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