Page 89 of One Night with the Biker

Ma Siller went into great detail about her conversation with Reese. It crushed me, but then she walked it back a little by saying he felt something for me and that had him running scared. Hearing her perspective about Reese as a brokenhearted thirteen-year-old left me hurting for him as much as I did when he’d told me about the loss of his family. I understood his grief and fear, but where did that leave me and the baby? He wasemotionally scarred so he rejected anything that might bring him pain.

Ma thought Trinity’s death also played a factor. She made it sound as if they had something deeper than Reese led me to believe. By my second day with her, I didn’t know if she liked me or wanted answers to pass along to the club.

She grilled me about everything from my parents to Roman to my friendship with Nova. It exhausted me. Tess and Big Poppa’s visits lifted my spirits. Every day, she brought something for me to eat, usually broth-based and hearty.

Once they left, Ma Siller got back to her interrogation. When she ran out of questions, she had her daughters come and take up where she left off. Sometimes, I heard myself answering the same questions.

Reese visited on the fourth day, although Ma Siller didn’t give us a moment alone so I could ask him about his conversation with her. After a couple of hours, she put him out. When I awakened, three days ago and went to the kitchen for a glass of water and saltines, a completely different woman greeted me as if she’d had a personality transplant. Ma Siller was solicitous, kind, and affable.

During Tess’s lunchtime visit yesterday, she told me she’d made an appointment for me with an OB. Tess and Big Poppa were going out of town for their anniversary, but she promised to check on me every day. Meanwhile, Ma Siller offered to come to the appointment with me.

Instead, I told her I’d invited Reese and I wanted to drive there on my own. Although he hadn’t responded to my text, I thought maybe he’d come, but as my name was called and the nurse took my vital signs and my history, he still hadn’t contacted me.

“Here’s a hospital gown and a sheet,” the nurse said. “Dr. Purdue will be in shortly.”

As I lay on the table, I didn’t think the doctor knew the meaning of shortly since I’d been in the room for forty-five minutes before he walked in with the nurse following behind.

He was tall, blue-eyed, and handsome with a bedside manner that I immediately liked. During the pelvic exam, I pulled the sheet over my head in embarrassment, but he explained everything calmly and gave no indication he saw my action as anything but mature.

“Everything is fine. Nothing to worry about,” he said, sliding off his gloves and washing his hands. He nodded to the nurse. “Arthel will get you ready for your ultrasound.”

She led me from the exam room to where the ultrasound machine was via a connected door. Once she typed in my name and date of birth, she left me alone.

Which was exactly what I was—alone. Never more than in that moment when I expected the father of my baby to suddenly arrive because, as far as I knew, it was his first child, too. Or just because of me. He cared enough to want to be here as my support.

He didn’t have to wantme. He just had to care.

I blinked at the ceiling, wondering what I’d gotten myself into. I didn’t have anything, so how could I take care of this baby? Why did I even want it? It was an unplanned accident that happened because of my misguided stupidity. Listening to Nova about the rhythm method and how I didn’t want my first time to be so impersonal. I was just lucky that Reese didn’t have an STD, like Louisiana swore.

From the beginning, I’d set myself up for this massive failure.

Even if Dayton had lived, I would’ve still ended up pregnant. That would’ve gone over as well with him as it had with my brother.

My tears didn’t surprise me. They were my new normal and went right along with that stupid morning sickness. Ma Siller said carrying babies was hard on a woman in every way.

The door opened and I didn’t bother lifting my head, regretting so much, including not allowing her to come with me.

“The doctor will be with you shortly,” Arthel said.

“He doesn’t know the definition,” I mumbled just as Reese said, “thank you.”

I stilled, afraid to believe he was here and afraid to lift my head and discover he wasn’t. My skin prickled and my heart sped up. The smell of cologne and motor oil invaded my senses. I ignored the slight nausea.

“Are you going to talk to me?”

The sound of his voice washed over me. His uncertainty surprised me.

“Ainsley?”

“Have you done anything where I shouldn’t talk to you?”

“I know Ma Siller told you what I said.”

I’d gone through too many emotions today to get into this conversation right now.

“Can I at least explain myself?”

“Not here,” I said tiredly.

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