Page 21 of Marrying My Moth Lady

“Will I ever get to see my child?” Panic pulls at my chest. Parenting with Amber would be hard—marrying her would be a nightmare—but I enjoyed the thought of showing a mini-me about nature. Visions of me showing a little tyke around the forest and teaching them about all the inhabitants grew on me. I can’t allow a piece of me to grow up in another state. What would a childhood in a biker gang’s clubhouse look like?

“It’s not your child!” Rash’s terse whisper pops my daydreams like soap bubbles. “Sweetness, I thought you picked this guy because he was smart.”

“No, I picked him because he worked for my dad, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Horus, I was never pregnant with your baby. Rash and I drove you home from the bar. You slept in your recliner until morning when we moved you to the bed. You woke up to me in your apartment, but do you remember sex in your bed that night?”

“I questioned my sanity when I couldn’t’ remember anything,” I murmur. Why aren’t I angry? Am I an evil person for the relief flooding my system? I want kids, but not right now…and definitely not with Rash and Amber. “Paternity test?”

“I never fucked you, idiot,” Amber sneers. “Rash slept at your place, too.”

“Language, no f-bombs for your baby’s sake,” I say absently. Oh, how I miss Millie’s mannerisms! If I’m not the baby’s father, Amber’s noose on me is temporary. I’ll save Millie’s home and rid myself of Amber forever. She is Rash’s problem.

“We drugged you for good measure,” Rash says. Amber elbows him in the ribs. He grins and steals her fries in retaliation.

“I must be the first to be drugged at a bar and dragged home to fake a pregnancy,” I grouse. A headache blooms behind my eyes. Rash and Amber deserve each other…and their baby. Funny how I want them to be happy. “Why go to the trouble of pinning a baby on me when Rash wants to be a father? You look too cozy for a couple on the outs.”

Silvia brings a cup of chili, two platters of burgers piled high with fries, and a bright pink strawberry shake. She forgets my tea and mumbles about ‘guys who drink hot tea with burgers.’ I think the word sissy was also muttered under her breath.

“Silvia, aren’t you a sweetheart? Bill being nice you back there in the kitchen? You tell him, I’ll poke my ugly mug through his door if I hear his hollerin’ at you,” Rash says, turning Silvia’s cheeks the same color as his drink.

“Is that our friend, Rash?” shouts a voice from inside the kitchen. “Silvi-sweetie, come back here for the ranch dressing. You know Rash’s sweetheart loves our shoestrings with ranch.”

“Daddy will cut me off when he finds out,” Amber says before taking a gigantic bite of her burger.

“But we will find a way. The club will rally around us,” Rash says, dumping half a bottle of ketchup over his fries. He removes half the fries from the second plate and replaces the ones he took from Amber’s plate. He collects a lettuce shred from the corner of her mouth before kissing her lightly.

My heart aches…wait. Since when do I get sappy over forbidden love?

Since Millie…the ache intensifies to a dull thud as if Rash struck me in the sternum.

If only Rash could take my place at the wedding. Amber’s family would have a chance to mend fences. Rash would take over Carter Mining—face tattoos and all. This would end like a sitcom…

…with Rash as my boss…

…Millie’s forest bulldozed…

I’d be helpless to save her without the land deed, mineral rights, and money. Well, I don’tneedthe money. If I have Millie, I can’t plumb a gold-plated toilet with a rhinestone-rimmed hot tub under her treehouse. Wait a minute…

“What if I could help you escape?”

Amber pauses drowning her fries in ranch to glare at me. Rash sets down his burger and picks up his napkin, as if he doesn’t want to kick my ass with greasy fingers.

“You have someone else—obviously,” I start, pointing between Rash and Amber. “What if I have someone too?”

They throw their heads back and yuck it up like hyenas, but I continue.

“What if my sweetheart married me at our wedding? Once the documents were signed, I’d keep the forest deed andconservation center. However, I’d cut you a check for the money in the contract. It’s enough for you to buy a little house in the suburbs.” I leave out the part where Rash would scare all the neighbors, but that doesn’t stop the image of scared housewives ransacking the police station from dancing in my head. “It’s the best of both worlds. You aren’t a billionaire’s heiress, but a millionaire biker’s babe.”

“You can make the switch?” Rash says, going back to his burger. I guess he deems my plan worthy of a few more inhales.

“Not alone,” I say, holding my palms open on the table. “I’ll need Amber’s help with the details. How to get the marriage license? How about signing the marriage certificate? Ring sizes? Dress Sizes? No offense Amber, but my sweetheart is a completely different shape than you.”

“I have the electronic files to secure the marriage license on my laptop at headquarters. I’ll email them to you. You switch the names and add your thumbprints. When you sign the marriage certificate at the wedding, the thumbprints will match,” Amber says, stuffing her mouth with a blob of ranch that may have fries in it.

“Will you attend the wedding to help? You sign as witnesses, and I hand you the check. The roar of your motorcycle will accompany the organ’s bridal march. This way, if Eli tries to sue, we are all implicated,” I say, tapping my fingers on my mug.

“Deal,” Rash says around a mouthful of mush.

“Planning will be a lot more fun, now that I’m not the bride,” Amber says with a sparkle in her eyes. “Tell me about your sweetie. Does she love moths and bugs like you?”

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