“Baby.”

“Hmm?” I don’t open my eyes, just curl the pillow under my neck.

“Your dad will be here in a few minutes.” Wilder strokes my back.

Rubbing my eyes, I finally open them to see Wilder lying in front of me. “What time is it?” I ask.

“It’s eight o’clock.”

“I don’t want to get up.” I groan, scooting closer and cuddling up to him. “You’re so warm.”

He slides off the bed, dragging me with him. “No,” I groan once he picks me up off the bed, the cold air in the room making me shiver.

He lets me down on my feet, and I wrap my arms around myself to stop my shivering. Wilder walks to the closet and grabs some sweats, a long-sleeved shirt, panties, and my bra.

I believe I am going to be very spoiled. Wilder squats down in front of me. “Lift your leg.” I do as he asks, raising one leg and then the other. He slides the sweatpants up my legs, paying extra attention to my butt.

“Fondling me, are we?” I tease, and he winks and pinches my butt.

I put on my bra and the rest of my clothes. I grip Wilder’s beard, pulling him to me, and kiss him hard for a few seconds. “I am going to fix breakfast.”

Wilder retaliates, pulling my hair hard and kissing me, once again stealing my breath. Kissing him is different this time; it’s more passionate and there is a heat that wasn’t there before.

“Now go cook me some food, woman.”

I arch an eyebrow at his demand. “Oh really now, is that how it’s going to be?”

He nods, a shit-eating grin on his face. “You heard me.”

“I heard you all right,” I call over my shoulder, walking down the stairs to the kitchen.

This is the first time I have been alone since everything happened. I had sex with Wilder last night, and it was more amazing than I could have ever imagined.

I am sore, there is no doubt about that, but that comes with the territory—and I wouldn’t want to change anything.

These past twenty-four hours have been crazy. I found out last night that I have a father, a father who didn’t know I was alive. The strangest thing is that we have the same last name. If she didn’t want him to know about me, why did she give me his last name?

I think I must do something that I never wanted to do again. I think I must see my mother and get some answers; she owes me that much.

* * *

When Wilder walks downstairs thirty minutes later, I am rolling out homemade cinnamon rolls. His arms wrap around me from behind, his lips on my cheek. “What has you thinking so hard?”

“I think I need to talk to my mother, I want answers.” Talking to her is a foolish thing to do, but how else am I going to get answers?

He doesn’t say anything and, for a minute or so, there is no sound besides the TV in the living room. “I think, Sweetheart, it’s whatever you want, but you’re not going alone.”

Going alone is the last thing I ever want to do. My mother is not a nice person, and I don’t trust her. She doesn’t care about me; I learned that a long time ago.

My biggest mistake was holding onto the idea of what she could be. I always wanted someone who could be my best friend, and I wanted a dad who would walk me down the aisle one day, someone who made me feel safe. Just the little things that end up meaning the most.

* * *

The doorbell rings just as I am setting the last dish on the dining room table. He is here. My stomach is in knots and my nerves are completely shot. The last ten minutes have been absolute torture.

“I got the door.” Wilder walks past me to the living room. After I got the cinnamon rolls in the oven, I rushed upstairs and dressed casually in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. My hair is down, flowing around my face, and I put on some mascara.

Feet are walking across the hardwood floor toward the dining room. Breathe, Joslyn. They walk into the room: Wilder then Walker and Tristan.

Walker steps past Wilder, moving straight toward me. “How are you this morning?”

I smile. “I am good. How was your morning?”

His face softens, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I am a lot better now, Sweetheart.”

That was so nice! The more I look at Walker, the more I notice the resemblance between us. Walker hugs me. “Fuck, I can’t believe you’re my daughter, and I have missed so much.” His tone has an angry bite. I would be angry too if I were him.

I am angry because I missed this. I missed having a father my entire life. I only had stand-in stepfathers who left as soon as they were done putting up with my mother, which happened often.

Some of the guys tried to be nice to me and get to know me—-those are the ones I got attached to—but the others just ignored me altogether.

“There is still time to make new memories,” I chime in.

“You’re right.” He lets me go and is replaced by Tristan, who lifts me off the ground hugging me, causing me to laugh.

He lets me down then musses up my hair, making it frizz up everywhere.

“Hey!” I push his hand away, and Wilder walks over and fixes my hair for me. “I will get you back for that.” I wag my finger in Tristan’s direction. “Let’s eat. The food is going to get cold.” I motion toward the table, which has bacon, cinnamon rolls, and all of the fixings. I wanted to make a good impression.

I don’t even know how to react or what to do. One huge part of me is second-guessing everything I say. I take my spot next to Wilder, with Walker and Tristan in front of us. “Dig in.” They don’t waste a second. Walker and Tristan have their plates filled to the brim. Luckily for me, I thought ahead and made extras.

Wilder sets a plate in front of me, much to my surprise. Walker is staring at Wilder, who is staring back. It’s like they have a battle going on in their heads.

Finally, Walker nods and goes back to his food like nothing ever happened. And they say women are complicated.

“This is the best thing I have ever eaten,” Tristan says and I laugh. One of my favorite things in the world is feeding people and seeing the enjoyment on their faces.

“Glad you’re enjoying it.”

I eat my food, but I concentrate on the guys around me, my heart light with happiness. A hand touches my leg, squeezing. I put my hand on top of his, squeezing back.

Wilder is letting me know that he is there for me.

“Walker,” I say. “Want to go with me, all of you go with me, to confront my mother? I just want to know why.” I think he has the right to be there, and is it bad of me to want to see her face when she sees him?

Wilder twines his fingers with mine under the table and I smile, looking down at my plate. He turns me into a giddy schoolgirl by just holding my hand.

“I would love that.” Walker grins, and this is the first time I think I got a glimpse of the badass side of him. Tristan nods his agreement.

“I had our tech guy search for her, and he texted me her number earlier.” Wilder hands me his phone—all I have to do is press the call button.

I stare at the phone, dread filling me. I press the button and put it on speakerphone, laying the phone on top of the table.

“What?” my mother snaps. I internally wince. I was just hoping she would be semi-normal today and not in a bad mood like she is 95 percent of the time.

“Hey, Mom.” I clench my eyes closed waiting for her response.

“What do you want?” She actually says this in normal tone.

“I would like to meet for lunch?”

“I will if you bring me money.”

The guys are all pissed off, but Walker is absolutely fuming. His hands are clenched on the table, and his head is bowed down. Wilder is grinding his teeth. Tristin is looking at the ceiling, his arms crossed and his jaw clenched tight.

“How much?” I ask, and Wilder’s head snaps in my direction. I put my finger to my lips, shaking my head.

“One thousand should do for right now.” Her voice is not as snappy as it was.

“What time?” I ask and Walker paces around the dining room.

“Meet me at the Waffle House on Twenty-Second Street? In an hour.” She all but gushes with excitement.

I am sick to my stomach. She never once asked how I was or about anything remotely about me besides asking for money. Money that she is not getting. I will never give her another dime. She has two working legs and two hands—she and her fiancé can get jobs.

“See you then.” I hang up. “She is not getting a dime, I just wanted to make sure she would meet us.”

Wilder pulls my seat closer to his, his arm wrapped around my back.

“It’s also best if I wait there alone until she shows, then you guys come out and sit down next to her.”

Walker nods. He is still pissed. “We better get to town.” He walks out of the room, leaving me with Wilder and Tristan.

“He is having a hard time dealing with the guilt of not being in your life,” Tristan says, and that makes total sense.

“I am going to go talk to him.” I walk outside to see him sitting on the front steps, staring into the field in front of the house.

I sit down beside him, and he looks over for a second then back at the field.

“I know you have guilt, but I don’t want you to have that. It isn’t your fault.”

Walker rubs his face roughly. “It is hard not to feel that way when your daughter has lived twenty-three years without you in her life, and those twenty-three years have been shitty because of it.”

My heart hurts because I know my life could have been different, but a huge part of me says it happened for reason, because otherwise would Wilder be in my life?

I scoot closer and lay my head on his shoulder. “I believe everything happens for a reason. I don’t want you to feel guilt for something that was out of your control. You may not have been there for the first twenty-three years, but I would love for you to be there for the rest.”

Walker touches the side of my face that isn’t lying on his shoulder. “I would love nothing more, Honey. I want to be your dad.” His voice drops at the word “dad.”

A tear falls down my cheek, and Walker turns around, holding my face between his hands. “I want you to be my baby girl.”

I clench my mouth shut, trying to hold back the sob that is banging against my heart, begging to be let out.

“I would love nothing more,” I whisper, and he beams at me, his smile lighting up his face with pure happiness. He kisses my forehead and hugs me.

The first difference I notice is that I feel safe with him, the kind of safe that I have only felt around Wilder.

“We better get to that diner.” He lets me go, pulling me up from the step.

Wilder steps outside, and I have a feeling that someone was eavesdropping the whole time. I arch an eyebrow, letting him know he was caught. He gives me a cocky grin, and I shake my head.

“We riding your bike?” I ask Wilder.

He nods. “There is something on the back of the bike for you.”

What? I walk to the bike, which is sitting in the open garage, and I instantly spot something leather on the back of it. I pick it up and see patches on it.

Property Of Wilder.

Oh my goodness!

I turn around and Wilder is standing there. “Wilder…” I can’t find the words to describe what I am feeling; this is such a huge deal in the biker world. The ladies explained how it worked. This is a way of letting everyone know that I am Wilder’s and I am under club protection. This means that Wilder expects me to stick around because this is a promise ring of sorts.

“Joslyn, you’re mine and this is my way of showing everyone that. You are mine. I plan on you staying that way.”

I run to him and press my lips against his. He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. His fist is in my hair, controlling the kiss, and he is grabbing a handful of ass.

He pulls away, his eyes dark. “If you weren’t sure, I would be fucking you against this wall right now.” His voice is deeper than usual, darker and full of need.

Heat pools between my legs; I am sore but my body says different. I press my lips against his ear. “I am not that sore.”

“Fuck me,” he growls. He sets me on the ground. “We will finish this shit later.” He kisses me once more, a short, blistering kiss leaving me wanting more, so much more.

“You guys ready?” Tristan walks into the garage, totally interrupting everything. I glare at him and he winks.

He did this on purpose. I do believe we are going to clash. As I take my new cut off the back of the bike and slip it on, Tristan’s eyes are on it.

“Happy for the both of you.”

Wilder just does that head nod thing, but I thank him. Tristan gets on his bike. Wilder’s hand slips from my ass, a hand that I never realized was there, and he climbs on.

He raises his hand, and I slip my hand in his, using him for balance. Once I am situated, he says, “Let’s get this shit started and pray the fiancé isn’t there.”

Oh boy.

* * *

I am sitting in a booth in the diner. The guys are stationed all around me, but hidden so she won’t be able to see them. Walker and Tristan are in the kitchen; they know the owners so it’s not a problem. Wilder is hidden in a corner booth where he can see me.

Wilder wouldn’t let me out of his sight, and when Walker suggested he wait with them in the kitchen, he wanted to be closer to me. I’ve got to admit I love that possessive side of him. It makes me feel wanted.

I startle at the sight of my mother sitting in front of me in the booth; I never even saw her come in. Her eyes are on the cut I am wearing, and amusement is written all over her face. “Well, you wrangled you an MC guy, didn’t you?” She nods, her lips pursed, pretending to be impressed or something. “I tried to get myself one of those twenty-four years ago, but he didn’t want me.”

Is she serious right now?

“Where is my money?” she asks.

“What money?” I ask sweetly, and I lift my hand and motion for them.

One by one, they come into view and I watch, with satisfaction, the look on her face when she spots Walker. He sits beside me, and Tristan sits next to her. Wilder is standing next to Walker. It is going to take a while to get used to the idea of calling him “Dad.” It feels weird just thinking about it.

“What is this?” she hisses.

“Well, I think you have been keeping something from me, haven’t you?” Walker snarls, bending over the table.

She doesn’t budge. She doesn’t seem affected in the least. I would be shaking in my boots if I were her. “Well, I guess you found out.”

Walker’s fist hits the table. “How can you do this to me? How could you have kept her hidden? You gave me papers for the abortion!” I touch his arm as he sits back in his seat, calming him down.

My mother just smiles like she is having the time of her life. “You only wanted her, so I decided to sleep with the abortion doctor and have fake papers drawn up.” She cackles.

This woman is sick, and I am ashamed that she is my mother. How can someone be so cruel? I cannot even stomach hurting a bug. This person purposely causes people pain.

“Why give her my last name?”

She rolls her eyes. “In case I wanted to get child support someday.”

I am sick to my stomach, and a hand touches my back. Wilder is in the booth behind me.

“Look at you two, how cute. Now where is my money? I will leave and get out of your hair.”

Is she really serious right now? Does she expect me to give her money after everything she has done and said? “I am not giving you any.”

Her face turns ten different shades of red, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, and she can’t spit out what she is trying to say.

“Are you kidding me?” She looks murderous.

I sigh. “Mom, it’s time we go our separate ways.” In that second a weight is lifted off my chest.

She smiles cruelly.

I need a moment to myself. “I need to go to the bathroom,” I whisper to Walker, and he slides out of the booth, letting me out.

“Oh yes, please go to the bathroom,” she sings.

I walk across the diner to the bathroom and push open the door, coming face-to-face with a gun.

Joslyn lets out a bloodcurdling scream, and I jump into motion. Her dad and brother are on my ass all the way to the bathroom. I throw the door open to see Joslyn standing there with her hand over her mouth and her mom’s fiancé pointing a gun at her.

“Why are you doing this?” she begs.

I move in front of her, my body between her and the gun. I grab the barrel of the gun, pushing it up in the air, just as it goes off. Walker punches him square on the jaw, and he hits the ground face-first with a thud.

I turn around and Joslyn burrows her head into my chest. “Why did he do that?” she asks, her body shaking.

The fucker is as good as dead; there is no doubt about that. Walker nods toward the guy and I nod. He will be taken to the clubhouse, and we all know he will rest in peace—well, rest in pieces.