Page 38 of Filthy and Dirty with the Bikers

My clit throbs as the mere thought of what he might mean by that statement washes over me, and for a second my mind wanders with thoughts of all three men taking me over.

“Good,” the doctor says, rolling an ancient computer attached to a long-corded wand toward the table. The machine looks like it came straight from the eighties. I bet there’s a fax machine around here, too. “Let’s take a look at your little baby here. If you can lay back and lift your shirt for me.”

I’m not sure I expected all of this to be happening so quickly. An ultrasound. A picture of my baby. A supersonic timeline.

Panic rushes through me as I think of all the worst-case scenarios. A day ago, I couldn’t imagine having children. Now I don’t want anyone to take them away.

“Why haven’t I felt the baby kicking? What if something’s wrong? What if—”

The doctor squeezes cold gel onto my stomach as Maverick holds my hand. “You’ve probably felt kicking but brushed it off as indigestion. The baby would’ve just started moving around and you’re still very early in the pregnancy, so the movements would be light.” His wand pushes over the blob of gel, and he rolls his chair to the side of the prehistoric computer.

Suddenly, as though the world has started in a new place, there’s a drumming beat of life. A heavy fast rhythm that fills the room with an energy that wasn’t there before.

Maverick looks down at me, his hand in mine. “Fuck, Molly.” Tears well in his eyes and though I’m enamored by this moment of beauty with my child, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed by Maverick’s investment.

The man in white speaks, though he continues staring at the screen, “Ten fingers, ten toes, and as far as I can see you have a healthy baby. Do you want to know the sex?”

My heart stalls. “The sex? Already?”

“Already.” The doctor smiles and circles my stomach, clicking on his keyboard as he works the cool gel around.

I glance up toward Maverick, unsure of why I’m so crippled by this decision. On one hand, I’d love to know the sex of the baby. I could make a plan for the room, decide what kinds of clothes to buy, and prepare myself mentally for dolls or trucks. Then again, I’ve heard people say that the sex of your baby is one of life’s greatest surprises. Besides that, I’m a girl, and I refused to wear pink dresses or play with dolls. “DoI want to know the sex?”

Maverick grins and opens his mouth to speak, but he’s also speechless.

“I can write it down for you,” the doctor says, brushing away something on his bulbus nose. “I’ll tuck it into an envelope. If you decide you want to know, you can pull it out later. A lot of people like to do it privately or with family around.”

I nod and the doctor turns, marks something down in a notebook, tears out the paper, and folds it before sliding it into an envelope from the drawer by the door. He hands the paper toward Maverick who tucks it into his back pocket.

I’m sure the doctor continues taking notes, or making measurements, or doing some other thing that’s imperative to a healthy pregnancy, but my mind is gone, lost on a life I’m about to have. A life with a real, actual baby. A little person. A little piece of myself is about to be in this world for me to love and care for.

Where will we live? What will we do? What does a mother even do?

I imagine myself as a free-spirited parent. The kind of mom that lets things go and talks about mistakes instead of doling out punishments. I imagine Rhett holding the baby like a goat under his arm with a bottle stuck in their mouth, Maverick demonstrating how to use a screwdriver, and Holden sat at the table doing puzzles and building Lego cities while they discuss how life makes them feel. Most of all, though, I imagine them all protecting this child with their lives.

My heart hammers against my chest with anxiety and excitement. Anxiety over the reality of the changes that are about to happen, and excitement over the possibility of a life I’ve dreamt of. A fantasy where three men want a life with me and my unborn baby. A fantasy where my child will always be surrounded with love and security. A life where I finally belong.

The doctor wipes a soft cloth over my stomach, shaking me from my thoughts. “I recommend a trip to the diner for some strawberry rhubarb pie. Babies up here are raised on that stuff, so you should get them started early.”

I smile and hop off the table and into Maverick’s arms. He smells like diesel and cedar, like a hardworking man. It’s weird, but the smell reminds me of my childhood. It reminds me ofthe farm, late summer nights with fireflies, early winter evenings curled up by the fire, and days in the hayloft looking for the ever-disappearing cats. I haven’t known Maverick for as long as he’s known about me, but there’s a connection between us that’s natural and genuine. A connection that isn’t easily replicated or found.

He holds the door open for me and we step out onto the sidewalk, unprepared for the cold December breeze. “Wow. That was… incredible.”

“I know! I can’t believe you have the sex of the baby in your back pocket. I mean… it’s crazy!”

He grins and tucks me against his chest, helping me toward the truck on the slippery sidewalk. “Crazy, is right. You’re going to be a mom. Agreatmom.” He opens the truck door and helps me up inside, careful with how he lifts my body, though I know his hands are capable of so much strength. Still, though, he’s gentle and caring. “You going to open the envelope?”

A smile is so plastered on my face that I don’t think I could wipe it off if I wanted to, though I’m still not sure how to answer his question.

Maverick rounds to the opposite side of the truck and climbs up inside. His jeans are tight, and he wears a flannel over an old t-shirt that splits open as he sits up in his truck. “I don’t disagree with the doctor about the pie. You should definitely get on a steady diet of strawberry rhubarb.”

“Yeah? I don’t think I’ve ever had a slice.”

His jaw drops. “Bullshit! If you’re serious, we gotta fix that. What if I pick up some pie, and we all have dinner together tonight?”

“And we open the envelope?” I grin.

Maverick starts up the truck and glances toward me, his hand reaching out for my thigh. “You want to know?”

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