5 Bikers for Valentines

“There's always at least one of us around,” Cason said. “If not all three of us.”

“Besides, it's about time we did something with this room,” Bennett said. “None of us are ever going to use it. And it's larger than your bedroom at home. With a baby on the way, you're going to need more space.”

He had a point. My room was easily half the size of this one, and there were no other options. We had a nice home, but it wasn't big by any means. And my parents were gone a lot, leaving me alone. If I were there alone and Leo showed up – I shuddered to think what might happen.

Knowing that in the McCormick house, that there was usually at least one of the boys around, I knew I'd never be alone. And I'd never feel unsafe.

“What will people think?” I asked.

Bennett shrugged. “Who cares?” he said. “If anything at all, they'll probably think one of us is the father.”

“And all of us are okay with that,” Quinn finished for him.

“The kid will have three dads,” Cason said. “And you'll have three boyfriends.”

I laughed, taking it as a joke, but judging by the looks on their faces, the guys didn't.

“Seriously?”

“Whatever you're comfortable with, Hailey,” Quinn said, stroking my cheek. “No more fighting over you.”

“Yes, no more fighting,” Cason agreed.

Bennett was the last to agree, and as I looked over at him, a smile spread on his ruggedly handsome features.

“I have a hard time sharing,” he said. “But I think I can manage.”

“So, we're doing this? We're really doing this?” I asked, feeling like my heart might explode, my mind overwhelmed by thoughts and feelings I'd never before experienced.

“Sounds like it,” Quinn said, kissing my lips.

And that's how I ended up with three boyfriends and three fathers for my child. It's strange. It's unusual and unconventional.

But, somehow, it just feels right.

The End

DOM’S SECRET BABY

Chapter One

Josie

The steady soft beeping sound of my mother's

heart monitor was the only thing keeping me awake. My Fundamentals of Nursing book was splayed out on the table in front of me, about as useless as I felt in that moment. I hadn't been able to read a single paragraph from it in the last forty-five minutes. Maybe longer.

My poor mom was fast asleep, drugged with some magic concoction they only give to the dying. Something to ease the pain and “make them comfortable” as they like to say. I guess being unconscious was about as comfortable as she was going to get.

Letting out a long, frustrated breath, I closed my book and packed it away into my backpack, giving up all hope of studying for my midterm. Thankfully, Spring Break was coming up, and I'd be able to get some rest then. There was still a lot going on, though, so I had no pretenses that it would be a week of complete rest and relaxation.

My mom's last round of chemo was scheduled for that week and while doctors remained hopeful and expressed optimism that this round would get rid of the remaining cancer cells lingering in her body, I had to prepare myself for the worst. I had to be prepared for them to deliver bad news like the surgery and chemo hadn't eradicated all the cancer, and that it had already spread to her lymph nodes or liver. Studying nursing and medical procedures while watching a loved one undergo cancer treatment could be helpful in understanding what it was they were talking about, but it also made me realize all the potential for problems as well.

This only increased my anxiety. Sometimes knowing too much was the most horrible thing of all.

After packing up my bag, I leaned over and gently kissed my mom's forehead. Even in her sleep, she gripped my grandma's rosary, the well-worn beads slipping between her almost skeletal fingers, pooling on her frail, sunken chest.

“Good night, Mama,” I whispered.