Page 69 of Deserter

The bedroom door was thrown open and I stumbled back into the nightstand with a cry, sending the lamp over onto the carpet.

“Celia, what the fuck are you doing?” Jamie demanded.

I rubbed my hip, knowing I was going to bruise. “I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”

“You fell asleep? I told you Slim was riding in.”

I resisted the urge to hurl one of my pregnancy books at his head, remembering Lucy’s words. An Ol’ Lady never disrespected her man and kept her emotions in check.

It turned out, I didn’t much like being an Ol’ Lady.

Right on cue, the evening nausea hit, and I stumbled past him and into the master bathroom. That was another thing the books had sworn would go away. However, from seven to eight, my body begged to differ.

I knew he wouldn’t follow me in, so I was surprised when the hinges on the door squeaked as it was pushed open. I hastily wiped my streaming eyes and looked up to see an unfamiliar face. I scooted back in surprise, my butt hitting the wall, as I scrambled to get my feet under me.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m Slim,” the man held his hand out and then lowered his voice. “But you can call me John.”

He was tall and tattooed, like Jamie, but that was where the similarities ended. John’s hair and beard were jet black, where Jamie’s were blond, and his eyes held a softness that my biker no longer possessed.

“C-Celia,” I cleared my throat and placed my hand in his. “I’m sorry about dinner. If you don’t mind waiting, I can get something going—”

John frowned. “You’re gonna sit your ass right here and let us take care of you, Darlin’. How many weeks are ya?”

I grinned up at him. It felt foreign. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d smiled. “Almost twenty-seven weeks. Do you want to feel?”

He rested his hand against my belly and the baby began kicking, excited to hear a male voice. When his face lit up, I wished that he was Jamie.

“I’d say you’ve got yourself a wild one in there. Must take after its daddy.”

I nodded, confused by his words. Jamie was feral, not wild. He’d been born in captivity but had escaped and learned to fend for himself in the wild. Wild animals could become domesticated with the right people. The feral ones remembered their cages and refused to ever be tied down again.

“Still dealing with morning sickness?”

I nodded, wanting to soak up every drop of attention this biker was giving me.

“I think I got something in my saddlebag that’ll do the trick.” He disappeared and the guilt returned. I should’ve been serving them, not the other way around.

The door opened again, and Jamie leaned in. “Slim?”

I chewed the inside of my lip and focused on the wallpaper above his head as I answered. “He went to get something from his saddlebag.”

“You okay?”

My eyes filled, but I nodded. “I’m fine. I’m sorry about dinner. It won’t happen again.”

“Celia, I—”

“I got it, Celia,” John announced, and Jamie fell quiet again. “This worked for Lou when she was sick as a dog with David.” He held up a bottle of lemon-lime Gatorade and a small bag of Cheerios.

Jamie’s eyes flashed with anger as John stepped around him and he disappeared.

“Why do you keep this in your saddlebag? Do you treat a lot of pregnant women?”

John chuckled and poured some of the cereal out into my palm. “Nah, it’s a hangover cure I’ve sworn by since Jamie and I were kids. When Louisa, my Ol’ Lady, got knocked up, she was throwing up all the time. I was afraid she was gonna waste away to nothing. This worked like a charm.”

His words did nothing to alleviate the ache in my chest. He’d taken care of his woman. I wondered what that was like.

“Going to the clubhouse,” Jamie called from the hallway. “I won’t be back tonight. Slim, let’s go.”

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