5 Bikers for Valentines

easy. I'm sorry he talked to you the way he did. It was wrong.”

“You know, if you keep talking like that and buying me food, I might actually start liking you,” I said, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Oh, would that be so bad now?” He winked at me

Yeah, it would be very bad. Very, very bad, I thought to myself. No use bringing it up, though. Like I'd told the lawyer, I knew my place. I knew what I was to Malcolm.

His surrogate. Nothing more.

Why did knowing that leave such an empty feeling inside of me?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

MALCOLM

My mother had called a family meeting. Said it was vital that I showed up. A few days had gone by since Casey and I had slept together, and while I knew it was too early for pregnancy tests to come back positive, I was constantly checking my messages, hoping to hear something from her. I wasn't sure if I'd tell my parents right away or not, just in case something went wrong. But, having something to report would be better than nothing, right?

Instead, I was going to show up to the meeting with no actual news to share.

Thankfully, this meeting didn't include Adam. My mom had made sure to tell me that ahead of time. I guess she wanted to make sure I wouldn't be too stressed out about it. The competitive nature of this whole business was starting to get to me. It was especially starting to get to me down at the office where Adam was learning everything there was about the company – including my specific job duties. Having a shadow at work was never fun, especially when that shadow was undermining you every step of the way.

So, when I stepped into the parlor to meet with my mom that day, I felt at ease. No Adam, just my parents and me. Should be easy enough, right?

Wrong.

As soon as I'd stepped into the parlor room, I almost turned right back around and left. Seated across from my mother, facing the doorway, and looking straight at me, was Danielle.

I stopped, hesitating just long enough that my mother turned and saw me.

“Malcolm, please,” she said. “Have a seat.”

Dad sat next to Mom, and I had the option of joining Danielle on the loveseat or sitting in one of the chairs off to the side.

“You didn't tell me we'd be having company,” I said.

I didn't even bother to look at my ex. I stayed in the doorway, preferring to stand rather than sit anywhere near her. I was also still considering leaving. It wasn't until my father stood and walked over to me that I knew I would have to stay put. His face was serious. Dead serious.

“Malcolm, you heard your mother.”

Danielle still hadn't said a word. She sat on the loveseat, wearing a Tiffany blue dress with a white ribbon at the waist. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a twist, neat and formal. Her hands were resting in her lap, looking every bit the proper lady I knew she wasn't. Her blue eyes stared back at me, and I felt absolutely nothing when I looked at her. No love, no rush of emotion, nothing.

She was just there.

My mom stepped to my side and whispered into my ear, “Malcolm, it's important. Please, have a seat.”

With the sigh of a suffering man, I took one of the chairs off to the side, sitting as far away from Danielle as I could. She had to turn herself almost completely around to even see me. Dad and Mom sat back down as well, and it was my mother who started the conversation.

“Danielle has some news for you, Malcolm,” she said. “She's been trying to meet with you for some time but says you haven't been responding to her messages.”

I glared at Danielle. “Did you really have to get my parents involved?”

She turned to look at me. “Malcolm, there was no other choice,” she said. “You need to hear this.”

“What do I need to hear? About how sorry you are, how it was all a mistake?” I spat. “Because I've heard it already, Danielle. I've heard it and it's not going to change anything. We're through, and there's nothing you can say that will change that.”

“I'm pregnant, Malcolm.”

My heart very nearly stopped dead in my chest. Literally. With knots tightening in my belly and groin, I gripped the arms of the chair, digging my nails into the fabric.