Page 77 of At Last

23.

Duke

Eight months later…

“They came. They came.” She runs into the bedroom waving a large yellow envelope around.

“Watch yourself honey, don’t want you slipping.” I got a tarp over the carpet and a tray filled with silver-gray paint she says the color matches my eyes.

Her eyes light up for a different reason. “Wow,” she says. “It’s really coming together.”

I put the roller back down in the tray and walk over to her. “Lips,” I whisper.

She leans in to give me her lips. While I wrap one arm around her shoulder, I rub her growing belly. It’s the sexiest, most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life. My wife carrying our child.

Once I got out of the hospital, to put an end to the Aiden ordeal, as she refers to it, I didn’t waste any time in turning Dr. Caitlin Brennan to Dr. Caitlin Brennan-Ellis. She chose to keep her name for professional reasons. Which I completely understand. Hell, I was just honored she wanted to take my name however she decided to take it.

Neither of us wanted a big ceremony. Her folks came in from Arizona. It was the first I’d met the in-laws. They didn’t even know she was seeing anyone, let alone the relationship being serious enough to get married.

And they weren’t too thrilled to learn their only daughter and granddaughter were living in a biker compound. But they were even less thrilled to learn that bastard who’d abandoned my girls tried to kill them. When Doc told them how I’d claimed her and Peaches as my own and how I’d taken three bullets to protect them, they warmed up. Not saying we’ll ever be best of friends, but they’re already planning on a return trip once the baby’s born.

The day I found out she was pregnant, I’d just gotten back from a long run. A distributor was dicking us around. Had to put a stop to that. And I had to check on Chaos. It’s been rough on him since Liv left. Hopefully he can get that girl’s head straight. But I know he’s gotta do for his family. And Liv is his family.

I walk in and there’s one ’a them baby onesies, the kind that snap at the crotch, laying on the island. It’s black with a flaming devil’s head patch sewn on. Above the devil’s head, it says Brimstone Lords. Below it, ‘in training’.

At first I think Trisha had the baby. And that my wife picked out a fucking awesome gift. Until Peaches comes racing out ’a her room. “Daddy. Yew’re home. I missed yew.” I hold my arms open, and she leaps into them. That’s when I notice the T-shirt she has on. It’s black like the onesie and has a devil’s head sewn on too. But above the flames, hers says Big Sister. And below it, ‘in training’.

“In training?” I ask Peaches, who beams up at me. Then I bellow, “Woman, you better get your ass out here.”

Doc strides out from the hallway positively glowing. “Hey daddy,” she greets me.

“Are you serious? This is serious?” I know I sound like a lunatic, but shit. My heart feels so huge it might explode.

“Yes,” she tells me. “I’m only about eight weeks along. But Dr. Mason over in Milford says everything looks fine.”

Trisha had the baby not two days later. A baby girl she and Sneak name Briar Rose. Because even girls, if they’re legacy, need kickass biker names.

This morning I woke up to my woman going down on me. Pregnancy hormones are a thing ’a beauty. Thought she liked sex before. Now she’s insatiable. But before I came, I had her calves up against my shoulders. Then we got up, showered together, which led to another orgasm for her, this time using my fingers, and we got dressed. Because today she’s twenty weeks exactly, and we had an ultrasound appointment.

I drove her and our girl the two towns over to her obstetrician’s office. We got looks from the moment we stepped through the front door ’til they called us back. What, because I wear a cut and a patch that says president, I’m not supposed to support my old lady during her pregnancy?

My bike and tattoos just mean I’m cooler than other dads, not that I don’t give a damn.

I help her up onto the table, this is after she’s been checked by Dr. Mason. We heard the heartbeat, a sound I’ll never grow tired of hearing. Then she used a tape measure to measure Doc’s belly growth. That’s when she told Doc and me to go across the hall where the ultrasound tech was waiting for us.

The tech lifts Caitlin’s shirt again and pulls her pants down to just above the pubic bone. And after gooping Doc’s stomach, uses a wand to check all the vitals. It’s a 3D ultrasound, so we can see every detail. I see my baby’s face. My chin and cheeks. My lips and forehead. Don’t know about eyes, they’re closed. But Caitlin’s nose, for sure.

After she records all the necessary information the tech asks, “You want to find out what you’re having?”

I look to Caitlin and we both crack a smile. “Yes.” We say together.

While we wait for the tech to hone in on the hotdog or the bun, my wife squeezes my hand. “You nervous?” she asks.

“Nah. You?”

“Maybe excited is more the word. You want a boy or girl?”

“Don’t matter, honey. Don’t matter at all.”

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