Page 27 of Ginger

I followed him to a big Harley Davidson. He got on first and started the engine, then held out his hand to me. I grabbed it and swung my leg over the seat, settling behind him. Once I had my arms around his waist, he eased out onto the street, following KiKi.

Just as she’d said, it was two blocks away. We parked beside her, and she waited on the sidewalk for us. KiKi looped her arm through mine and led me into the cafe with Bronx following behind us.

The café was busy but not packed, with mismatched chairs and local art on the walls. True to his word, Bronx took a table near the window, positioning himself where he could see both us and the door. He ordered coffee and pretended to be engrossed in something on his phone.

"Is he always this intense?" KiKi whispers, hiding behind her menu. “I’ve never seen him like this before.”

I stole a glance at our self-appointed bodyguard. "Pretty much."

"It's kind of hot," she admitted, "in an overbearing, paranoid sort of way."

I snorted into my water glass. "Don't let him hear you say that. His ego barely fits through doorways as it is."

I followed her gaze to where Bronx sat, his shoulders tense despite his casual pose. There was something about the way he scanned the room every few minutes, the way his fingers drummed against the table when someone new walked in. I'd spent enough time around him to recognize the signs – he wasn't just being overprotective. He was genuinely worried.

"So," KiKi said, mercifully changing the subject as she set down her menu. "Have you talked to Vegas about what happened at the club?"

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Not really. Houston tossed me a lifeline that night, then Bronx and Reno said they were claiming me."

"Mmm-hmm." KiKi's knowing look made me want to slide under the table. "And I’m sure those two were just doing you a favor."

"I didn’t say that," I protested.

The waitress arrived to take our orders, saving me from KiKi's interrogation. I ordered pancakes with a side of bacon, while KiKi opted for an egg-white omelet. At least she was trying to eat healthy for the baby.

"You know," she said once the waitress had left, "I’ve never seen those two act like that before. I can tell they genuinely care about you."

I sighed, tracing patterns in the condensation on my water glass. "It's complicated."

"I’m sure it is." KiKi leaned forward, lowering her voice. "But Ginger, I've known about Reno and Bronx for a while now. I never thought there would be room for a woman in their life."

"I didn’t either. When they decided they wanted me, I was so shocked," I said.

She glanced over at Bronx again, who was now openly watching the door, all pretense of casualness gone. "I’m glad the three of you have each other. It will keep the heat off the two of them with the club, and you’ll have someone to watch over you."

I smiled a little, but it faded fast. “What if you had someone like that too?”

KiKi rolled her eyes. "Sure. They’ll all jump at the chance once they find out I’m pregnant. I’m sure everyone will avoid me like I have the damn plague.”

"You won’t know unless you try."

"Your food, ladies," the waitress announced, setting down our plates.

I dove into my pancakes, grateful for another interruption. Clearly, neither of us wanted to talk about our issues, and I wasn’t sure what else we could discuss. It wasn’t like we were best friends.

"You know what your problem is?" she asked, cutting her omelet into precise triangles.

"I have a feeling you're about to tell me."

"You're afraid to be happy." She pointed her fork at me. "I noticed it the first day you arrived. Emotionally, you keep your distance. So I really hope you give yourself a chance to fall in love with Bronx and Reno. I want the three of you to have a happily-ever-after."

I stared at her. "That's rich coming from you. You won't even tell anyone who your baby's father is."

"That's different," she said, her voice dropping. "I have my reasons, and I’ve already told you about them.”

"You're right. I'm sorry."

KiKi's eyes softened. "It's okay. We're both dealing with our own messes."

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