Page 76 of April 5

She and Jagger had created a baby the first time they got together after being apart for two years.

Jagger opened the door. Her dad walked in without saying a word. He looked at her, questioning. For two weeks, she'd refused to talk to him, so he was probably curious to know why Jagger asked him into the room.

Instead of anger, only concern showed in his gaze. She swallowed hard. Damnit.

Pregnancy hormones ruled her days lately, to Jagger's amusement. She couldn't imagine her life without her dad—good or bad. That's how it's always been. A fact she loved and hated equally because he wasn't perfect. But she loved him imperfectly.

"Are you okay?" asked Ruger.

She nodded and patted the couch beside her. Once he sat, she reached over and held his hand. The same hand that had hurt Jagger. The conflicting emotions hitting her all at once wasn't lost on her. When he was in prison, it was his hands that fascinated her the most, despite the chain, holding them to the table.

There was a time when those hands comforted and cared for her. But she couldn't remember.

"After talking to Jagger, I want to put what happened behind us." She looked at their linked hands. "While I understand if the situation involved others why the punishment went down but no one, not even you, knows what happened between me and Jagger—and I will always protect what we have."

"I let him live," said her dad. "That was for you."

Her dad was set in his ways. He had a black and white view of the world. She needed to accept him, or she'd lose him, that much she knew.

"I have something else to tell you." She let go of his hand and looked to Jagger for strength. "I'm pregnant."

Her dad's gaze whipped to Jagger. She grabbed his hand again before he reacted.

"I'm twenty four years old, Dad." She swallowed. "This is a happy time for me, and I want you to share it with us. I want you to be a part of my life, my child's life." She looked at Jagger. "I want you to get along with Jagger because he's the father of your grandchild."

Her dad pulled his hand away and pulled on his beard. "You're, okay? The baby isn't going to hurt you?"

"I imagine the baby is going to hurt me a lot." She laughed. "But, no, I'll be fine. I'm happy. Maybe a little nervous."

"A baby." Her dad blew out his cheeks. "More family."

She smiled. "That's going to make you a grandpa."

Her dad stood and rubbed the back of his neck. She stood with him. For her baby's sake, she wanted the hostility between her dad and Jagger to end. She needed her dad—the father who stepped up when her mom ran off. She knew he had it inside of him to help mend the rift between them.

Her dad palmed the back of her head and pulled her to his chest. "This'll take some getting used to. My baby is having a baby."

His heart raced against her ear. She wrapped her arms around him.

"We have time," she whispered. "At least six months."

Her dad cleared his throat and stepped away. Jagger walked over and opened the door. Her dad paused before going out. The two men spoke. She clasped her hands under her chin, wanting more than ever to rush over there to overhear what they were saying but knowing they both needed that moment, she stayed back.

If anything, she hoped the baby would bring her family together. Her dad only knew about her pregnancy. Cora had yet to tell her older brother that she too was having a baby.

Her dad left. Jagger shut the door. A big sigh of relief left her.

She walked into Jagger's arms and kissed him. Glad to have today over with, she ran her hands down his sides and cupped his ass.

"Do you think he'll grow to accept us being together?" she asked.

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Considering he just asked if he could transfer over from the mother chapter and ride for Seaglass Cove, I'd say he's going to stick around and either kill me or make sure his daughter is taken care of."

She came up on her toes and threw her arms around his neck. It was the most positive move her dad had made in a long time.

"Wait." She pulled back. "What about Rachel?"

She hoped the woman would leave. Her injuries were healed. There was no reason for her to stay in the clubhouse. Bitches weren't allowed. As the president's ol' lady, she wouldn't tolerate her living amongst the bikers.

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