A Baby Affair (Parent Portal 2)

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The bike he had for her was blue, Amelia noted as she got out of her car and walked toward him. They’d met at a fruit market not far from the neighborhood where they’d be riding, Craig pulling both machines down one at a time from a rack on the top of his SUV. He slung them around as though they were grocery bags, setting his sleek black men’s ten-speed up on its kickstand and then settling hers beside it.

The bike had a compact crankset, which meant twenty gears, he’d told her the night before. While she’d loved to ride when she was in high school, that was mostly to get out of the house and clear her head, and he’d assured her that she’d do just fine with Tricia’s ten-speed. It was all a foreign language to her, but she wanted to give it—and being around him—a try.

Regular exercise would not only make her delivery easier, but it would lessen her recovery time, as well, which was why she’d already started a low-impact regime at a local gym. With a business to run, she couldn’t afford to take weeks and weeks away from the office recovering from childbirth.

The gym work was boring her so much she dreaded going. Which was why she’d eventually accepted Craig’s offer of a bike to use. Which was exactly what she’d told him when she’d finally given him her answer.

“Here’s a water for you,” he said as she approached, offering her a plastic bottle that was sweating from the cold liquid inside.

“I’m good,” she told him, avoiding looking directly at him. The sight of the man in riding gear—long tight black pants—was...completely unexpected. “I’ve got one here.” She forced the words, turning to show him the bottle resting against her lower back, held there by the belt strapped around her waist. He couldn’t see the belt from the front because of the T-shirt she was wearing on top of her leggings. And when she was turned around she couldn’t see him.

Or that...bulge.

Her heart thumped and she wet her lips.

The water-bottle belt was new. As were the black-and-white-and-silver tennis shoes she’d picked up after bagels with her sister.

Amelia knew she didn’t do anything in half measures.

A trait she got from “the father”? Assuming he had at least one good one?

Get a woman pregnant, not once but twice, and then not just leave her, but do it without warning, without any means of support forever.

Shaking her head, she listened as Craig told her about the bike’s gears. A little different from the ten-speed she remembered, but enough the same that she knew what she was doing.

“Let me know if I go too fast,” he told her as they mounted their bikes, and she wanted to nod vigorously. To just put it out there and tell him, Yes. Yes to having him in her life, looking like that—it was too fast and too much. Way too much. “We want aerobic exercise,” he said, mentioning heart rate information that she already knew.

Clearly the man wasn’t at all affected by her thighs showing at the bottom of the long-sleeved and long-bodied T-shirt she’d worn to cover up ass...ets.

“You want to stay in good physical shape, but now is not the time to push yourself.”

Yeah, she knew, but nodded, anyway. And again when he asked if she’d eaten breakfast and lunch.

Yep, she’d eaten. With Angie. Who would be having apoplexy if she could see her right now, reacting to that bulge in those biker pants as though she’d never seen a man’s penis area clearly delineated before.

He handed her a helmet. Put his on. And asked if she’d taken her vitamins, and she nodded again, too het up to get defensive about his invasiveness.

She’d have stopped him if he’d pulled out a stethoscope or tried to check her vitals. She wasn’t his patient, but as they set off, helmets on heads, it kind of felt like he was just another medical pers

on on the team who was helping her bring a healthy baby into the world. The trainer at the Parent Portal, for instance, was one. She’d met with the woman once. Took down all the necessary information and had pretty much followed her suggestions, too. She’d just been bored to death at the gym.

So yeah, the bike riding, Craig and his questions...it was all just part of the medical process.

Did men wear cups when they rode bikes? The question, brought on by that brief glimpse of bulge she couldn’t get out of her head, made her miss the pedal as they started out. Had to start a second time, her hands a little shaky on the low handlebar grips.

Concentrating on staying upright was a godsend. Let her catch her breath. And get her sanity back.

She stayed far enough behind him that there was no chance for conversation. Partially on purpose. Partially because she was regaining her bike riding confidence and her decorum.

The first time she glanced ahead, she almost lost all confidence, and her balance, as well. The sight of his backside in those pants, as Craig sat half-bent over to steer his bike, seemed to have some invisible cord attached to the seat she was on, sending electric shock waves to her crotch.

Jeezy Pete. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had sex before. A lot. As recently as the previous summer when she’d had a fun fling with a recently divorced lawyer friend of Tanya’s. She’d enjoyed the sex. And him.

There’d been no electricity.

She couldn’t actually remember a time when there had been, but those things came and went. One didn’t always commit them to memory.