Page 57 of The Bikers Redemption

“Come back to bed. I want to show you exactly how much I love you and will love the baby.”

My hand lays flatly against her belly, and she adds her hand to mine, smiling.

“How did I come to deserve you?”

“No, baby. How did I deserve you?”

Epilogue

SERENA

“You can do it, baby. You’re doing so well.”

We’re at St. Vincent’s Hospital, and my water broke last night. I’ve been in labor for fourteen hours, and the doctor says I’m ready to push. “This shit is painful.”

For the last nine months, things have been amazing. Living with Harley has been a fairy tale. He surprised me with a house he bought and set up for us—a single-story weatherboard home with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. He left some furniture out for me to pick, but he had already made it so warm and cozy.

Harley surprised me when he showed me the nursery he created. He said his mom had helped him pick out the furniture and decorate the room.

Carolina was over the moon when we told her the news. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t certain who the father is, but Harley told me none of that matters.

The baby will be ours.

And we will be a family.

That’s why I love him.

He’s so selfless and has a huge heart.

There are not many people out there who wouldn’t want to know if the baby was theirs, but that just shows what kind of man Harley is.

I offered to get a paternity test as soon as the baby is born, but Harley refused, saying he didn’t need to know.

So here we are now, in the hospital, close to giving birth to our baby.

We can finally find out the sex of our beautiful child.

“That’s it, Serena,” the doctor says. “One more push, and that’s it.”

I inhale, hold my breath, and give it one big push.

The sound of cries reaches my ears, and I sob as they carry the baby to the table and wipe it down.

The nurse turns to me with a big smile. “It’s a girl.”

Harley looks over at the baby, leans down, and kisses me, saying, “You did it, baby. She’s so beautiful.”

He accepts the baby in his hands, who’s now snuggled in her wrap. Harley looks down at her, and when he looks back up, there are tears running down his face. “She looks just like you.” He walks over and lays her in my arms.

I kiss her forehead and run my fingers down her nose and chin. “She’s perfect,” I say, smiling up at Harley. “What will we call her?”

“I think we should call her Helena after your mother.”

“Oh, Harley, that’s perfect. Are you sure?” I ask, not believing how generous and thoughtful he is.

He leans down and kisses Helena’s forehead. “Of course. I think she would like that.”

My heart is full.

---