Biker Baby (Kings of Mayhem MC 3)

Mr. Blue Eyes was the father.

My baby wasn’t going to have brown eyes after all.

Sorry, Charlie.

I wasn’t really sorry. Truth be known, I felt relieved. Charlie and his lying, douchey ways were now firmly rooted in my past. Having a child by him would tie me to his cheating ass for the rest of my life, but I didn’t have to worry about that now. I exhaled as the weight of anxiety left my body. I was free of him forever.

“So, what’s the game plan?” Autumn asked later as we sat in a booth at our local Starbucks afterwards.

I shrugged. “I grow a baby and work it out as I go along.”

“What about the baby’s father? Mr. No Name?”

“Do I have to tell him?”

“Um, yes.”

“Why?”

“Because, he is going to be a father.”

“Now there’s an awkward conversation,” I said, staring into my double-shot skinny chai latte.

“He has a right to know. But at the end of the day, it’s your choice. You don’t have to make all these decisions today.”

“Yeah, but we don’t know each other. I don’t know if he wants kids. Hell, I don’t even know his name.”

“Then we find out his name.”

“How?”

“We go down to the clubhouse and find him.”

“Just like that?”

Autumn leaned forward and grinned. “Just. Like. That.”

HONEY

“Remind me again, why are we here?” Autumn asked.

“I’m about to go and tell some biker that I am pregnant with his child,” I replied.

“Oh, that’s right. But remind me why we are still sitting in my car, parked on the curb outside of the Kings of Mayhem clubhouse.”

“These things take time,” I said, my throat as rough as sandpaper. I sucked down the rest of the contents in my water bottle and stared out the window at the clubhouse down the street.

“Can we speed it up a little? We’ve already been sitting here for twenty minutes.”

“I’m waiting for the right moment.”

“Well, if the right moment doesn’t show up in the next five minutes, I’m going in there myself.”

“You can’t just go in there. They don’t let just anyone through that hallowed threshold.” I nodded toward the six-foot gate that was being rolled open by a guy in a Kings of Mayhem cut. A catering truck pulled up and drove in, followed by two guys on Harleys. For a moment, I thought one of them was my one-night stand, and without thinking, I ducked down.

Autumn looked at me like I was crazy. “What are you doing?”

“I think that’s him.”

“How can you tell? He’s like ten yards away.” Autumn took a bite of the red licorice she had been sucking on for the last ten minutes. “Plus, isn’t that a good thing? Now we can go in and get this over and done with.”

“I don’t think that is a good idea,” I whispered.

“Why the hell are you whispering?” She turned to me and raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me. “Being pregnant is making you a Class-A psycho, did you know that?”

“Yes,” I whispered loudly. “I do know that.”

She dropped the eyebrow, but gave me a pointed look. “That’s it, I’m going in there.”

She undid her seatbelt but I grabbed her wrist. “You can’t.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” She shook me off and opened the car door. “And if you don’t want me asking a room full of bikers who has the ten-inch cock, then you’d better come with me.”

She wasn’t kidding. Autumn wasn’t the shy type. She’d stand on a table and ask the entire clubhouse who was packing that much manhood in their jeans, and not bat an eyelid doing it.

“Please, let’s just go home and forget about it,” I pleaded.

“No.”

“I’ll bake you treats for a month.”

“No.”

“I’ll make you those mini cakes with the marshmallow frosting and jam centers that you like. Or those lava cakes with the chocolate ganache.”

“No and no.” She climbed out of the car and closed the car door, flipping her long, auburn hair over her shoulders as she started to walk away.

Hell.

I had to stop her from going in there and doing something stupid. Like asking a room full of bikers who had the ten-inch cock. I climbed out of the car and jogged to catch up with her.

“Glad you decided to join me,” she said with a smug little smirk.

“I hate you right now.”

“Ouch. That really hurt. You’re right, we should go home.”

“Really?”

“No.”

I huffed out a deep breath of air and resigned myself that this was about to happen whether I wanted it to or not.

We got to the huge gate just as a guy in a Kings of Mayhem cut was closing it.

“Wait!” Autumn called out to him.

The guy stopped and looked over. He gave us both the once over and grinned. He reminded me of the lead singer of the band who sang that 90’s hit, Epic. He had dark hair, dark eyes, cheekbones most women would kill for, and a jawline that belonged on Vogue. When he moved, I could see he was wearing a Star Wars shirt under his cut.