Chapter Thirteen

Shannon

 

Noah stood in my living room with his hands fisted on his hips. I wasn’t sure yet how he found out about the doctor’s bills, but I knew enough not to ask about it just yet.

 

“I have money saved up.”

 

“That’s not the point,” he said with exasperation.

 

We’d be around this topic for ten minutes already.

 

“I don’t need your money.”

 

“Shannon, that’s not the point either.” He sat down on the coffee table facing me, his hands balled up between his knees. “I’m not walking away, and I’m really sick of saying it. I’m going to take care of you and the baby. So get used to it already.”

 

“And when the baby comes?”

 

“What?”

 

“What happens then? You’ll take it every other weekend? Strap it on the back of your bike and take it on whatever jobs you do for the club?” Why couldn’t he see how impossible this all was?

 

“No. You’ll move in with me, and we’ll take care of the baby together.”

 

He’d said like it was completely normal, this idea of me moving in with him.

 

“I’m not doing that.” I felt better this morning, and after a hot shower and solid breakfast – that actually stayed down – I had enough energy to argue the point with him.

 

“Why?” he demanded.

 

“I—This won’t work, Noah,” I said, signaling between us. “How can it? You’re in a fucking gang.”

 

His eyes narrowed. “It’s not a gang, not like that, not like you mean.”

 

“It’s more like one than it’s not like one.”

 

“You haven’t even been to the clubhouse. Come by, meet the guys. Tracy seems to like it just fine.”

 

I scoffed. “I love Tracy, but she’s a little more ride ‘em rough than I am.”

 

His nostrils flared. “Get your shoes on,” he ordered and pushed off the coffee table. Before I could argue, he stalked off into the kitchen and started digging through my fridge.

 

“What are you doing?” I demanded when I followed him.

 

He had the last three Coke cans in his hands. “I told you no caffeine. I meant it.” He walked over to the sink and popped all three cans open, draining them.

 

I stared at him, slack-jawed. “Noah,” I murmured as he crushed each can in his hand. “I didn’t mean to make you mad. I’m just not sure how this story could end for us in any way but heartache.”

 

He dropped the cans into the sink and stared at me. “Well, it might help if you first stop looking for ways to fuck it up. I’m not leaving, not now, not when the baby arrives. Maybe we don’t work out, maybe in ten years I get tired of your snoring, or you get tired of my nightmares, but it won’t work if we don’t fucking try.”

 

“I don’t snore,” I protested.

 

His hard glare softened, morphing to a grin, and then he laughed. That hearty laugh I’d heard him have with Grandma.

 

“You sure do, sweetheart. But it’s cute.” He walked over to me, cupping my chin. “I don’t want to hear any more about how this is all going to go to shit. I called your doctor – saw the card on the fridge and took care of the balance while you were in the shower. I also got the dates for your next visit and the ultrasound, so I’ll be there.”

 

“Noah—”

 

He pressed a thick finger against my lips. “Nope. All you do now is say ‘Okay, sir’ and get your damn shoes on. We’re going to spend the afternoon baby shopping.”

 

“Baby shopping?”

 

“Yeah. I have two spare bedrooms; you can pick which is best for the baby, and we’ll paint and decorate it however you want.”

 

“What about my house?” I asked, pulling back from his grip.

 

“Sell it. Use the cash to spoil yourself rotten. I have enough to take care of us, all three of us,” he said with obvious pride.

 

Blood and drug money, no doubt.

 

“Maybe I’ll keep it for a little while longer,” I said, unsure if I wanted to take away the only safety net I had.

 

“That’s fine with me. But get your damn shoes on.” He gave my ass a pat to get me going.

 

I slipped on a pair of gym shoes that really made my jean shorts – which barely buttoned now – and T-shirt ensemble pop!

 

He handed me his helmet as usual and walked me to his bike. I couldn’t complain about riding on the bike. Other than the soreness sometimes from the hard vibrations, I loved being so close to him. Clinging to him just felt good.

 

He took me through the streets of town to a baby department store. When we walked in, several people turned their heads to stare at us. I started to pause and back up, but Noah laced his hand with mine and kept me moving. He grabbed a cart and started down one of the aisles.

 

I watched him grab stuffed animals, four baby monitors – because he wanted to be able to see and hear the baby no matter where we were in the house – and overload on diaper cream.

 

“Noah, we don’t need most of this stuff,” I said as we made our way to the register.

 

“What we don’t use with this baby, we’ll use with the next.” He grinned at me and started unloading everything onto the belt.

 

The next baby?

 

I swallowed and took a deep breath. I decided to put the worry away. He had a point. Nothing would work if I kept thinking of why it wouldn’t.

 

“Uh, Noah, how are we getting all this home?” I thought we were only going to do some window shopping.

 

“Don’t worry.” He pulled out his phone. “Jude’s coming with my truck.”

 

“Is Tracy with him?” I asked, a small amount of panic rising.

 

He shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care.” He shoved his phone back in his pocket. “We’ll get it all loaded into the truck and meet him back at my place.”

 

“I have a shift tonight,” I pointed out.

 

He nodded and handed a stack of bills to the cashier. “I know.”

 

“You aren’t going to give me trouble about working?”

 

“Not now, no. Once the baby comes, maybe.” He gave me a wink that either suggested he was kidding, or he was telling me he was ready for the fight.

 

Tracy was with Jude. But when they pulled up, she gave me a knowing smile. Dude must have filled her in all the juicy details about Noah and me. As the guys piled all the stuff into the back of the truck, she got out to talk with me.

 

“For whatever reason, you didn’t want me to know that you’ve been dating Noah. Jude swears he’s not a complete asshole, and what happened at the hospital isn’t really who he is. So, if you like him, you don’t have to hide it from me anymore.”

 

I smiled. “It’s worse than that… I’m having his baby. Not some guy’s from the cruise ship. And all the stuff we just bought the baby is going to his house.”

 

Tracy squealed, grinned, and wrapped me in a bear hug. “I told you he was hot,” she whispered in my ear.

 

I laughed. “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“A guy who takes you baby shopping is even hotter,” she replied with a don’t you know look on her face.

 

I just rolled my eyes and laughed again. Tracy would always go after the “hot guy”. She wasn't wrong though; Noah was definitely hot, but I needed more than superficial looks. If she knew how tender and dominating he was, she would probably melt her panties. Then again, maybe Jude was the same way. He did keep looking over at us while he was helping Noah.

 

“So, how about Jude? What’s going on with him?” I asked, elbowing her in the ribs.

 

“I don’t know. Everything was going really good, fun, ya know? But he’s been really intense lately. Not like jealous or anything like that. Just real protective. And he’s been stressed about something at the club.” She kept watching the guys work as she filled me in.

 

Yeah. It sounded like Jude was very much like Noah.

 

After everything was loaded into the truck, Jude told Tracy to get back inside.

 

“We’ll meet you at Noah’s house,” I told her and headed back over to Noah’s bike. He’d already started it up and was holding his arm out to help me get on.

 

We saw the truck out of the parking lot and down the road towards Noah’s house, but a mile down the road, we got split up. Jude got stuck at a red light while Noah blew through. The road was pretty empty for the middle of the day, but I could hear another bike coming up behind us. I looked behind me; there was a lone rider headed right for us.

 

He rode low with his head down, revving his engine as he got closer. I tightened my grip around Noah’s waist. He looked over his shoulder and accelerated. I thought I heard him curse but I couldn’t hear well with the wind ripping by and the helmet over my ears. The other biker got close to us, almost nipping his wheel with ours. I closed my eyes, holding on tight and praying that nothing happened.

 

Who is this guy? Is he one of Noah’s enemies?

 

“Keep your head down.” Noah swerved to the right and kept going faster. But the biker kept up with us.

 

I could make out a large shark painted on his helmet, and it came closer to us, then backed off, only to attack again. As he came up on my left, he was even with me. He shifted gears with the handlebars, and I noticed his right hand looked odd. He was missing his pinky and ring finger. I didn’t have time to look for any other identifying marks because Noah sped up faster still and took a sharp right turn down another road.

 

The biker didn’t follow. My heart jackhammered in my chest. I could barely catch my breath as we made our way back to his house.

 

We pulled into his driveway. Jude and Tracy were already there, unpacking the bags from the back of the truck. I jumped off the bike and threw my helmet at Noah.

 

“Who was that? Why was he trying to run us off the road?”

 

“What happened?” Jude demanded, hopping down from the truck bed. “Where’d you go? You went through that light, and then I didn’t see you.”

 

“The fucking shark showed up out of nowhere. He wasn’t trying to ram us off the road.” Noah had aimed the last sentence at me. “He was flexing his muscles is all.”

 

But I could see the anger in Noah’s eyes. That biker may not have been trying to hurt us this time, but there was definitely bad blood here.

 

And I’d been put smack-bang in the middle of it.

 

“If he’d hurt one hair on your head, I would’ve ripped out his throat,” he promised me. “You were safe. You are safe.”

 

I remembered the gun in his drawer, knowing it was now tucked in his waistband, but it would do jack shit if some rival biker wanted to run him off the road.

 

“I don’t fall off my bike.”

 

“You did the night I met you,” I shot back at him.

 

His eyes narrowed. “I think you and Tracy should get inside – figure out which room you want for the baby. We can discuss the night we met later.”

 

I knew that tone. He didn’t like how I was talking to him. Well, I didn’t like nearly being thrown off a motorcycle.

 

“Whatever,” I said and turned away.

 

“We can talk about that later, too,” he called after me.

 

Tracy looked at me with some confusion as she linked her arm through mine. I responded simply enough so that he wouldn’t be confused by my meaning: I held up my hand and gave him the finger as we entered his house.