Page 17 of Chelsea’s Knight

“Suck up,” Brooks snarks, causing laughter to ring out once again. Looking directly at me, he point-blank asks the question I’m sure has been on everyone’s minds, “Are you claiming her, brother?”

“Plan on it. I’m gonna make her my old lady, and I’ll brown nose the shit out of everything as long as it means I get to stay in her good graces, nestled between my woman’s thighs, and in my woman’s bed,” I reply, earning a few catcalls. Even though I haven’t gone to those places with Chelsea, I know that once I do, I’ll never want to leave her side.

“She’s had it rough in life, brother,” Trident warns.

I’m not sure what he’s expecting me to say, because I plan on making sure her future is full of warmth, love, and peace. I plan on being her safe place, but that’s between her and me, and she deserves to be the first person to hear that oath from my mouth, not my brothers.

“And she’ll share what I need to know, Trident,” I inform him. “But it’s her story to tell when she’s ready, not yours or your old lady’s.”

“I can respect that, brother, was just letting you know she’s special.”

“Which is why she’s gonna be mine, brother,” I rebut without any insulated doubt coming from my voiced promise. “Anything else, Pres? I was planning on taking Chelsea out somewhere nice for some dinner and give her some time outdoors since she’s gotten herself settled back in.”

Poseidon shakes his head at our taunting and bantering, but if he doesn’t know how we are by now, he’s a lost cause and since he’s so fucking brilliant, he’s apparently gonna roll with it.

“I think we’re okay to wrap things up. We’ve got the stuff for Glacier and Shark, so we’ll do their patch party this weekend and pray we don’t have to rush out of the festivities for babies. Goes without saying, that the likelihood of Lilli and CeeCee going into labor around or at the same time, is pretty fucking good odds. Brooks, Trident, Atlas, y’all are positioned on deck if that happens to ensure everything keeps running smoothly the way it’s supposed to.”

We all reassure our president that we’ll keep the club from being run into the ground when his old lady, and our VP’s old lady, have their babies. The new daddies will be staying at home with their women and children bonding and adjusting to their fatherhood roles. Not like they won’t be around the clubhouse from time-to-time, because they will, but the brothers decided long before I came on the scene as a patched member, that any brothers whose old ladies gave birth would take two weeks off to bond with their child and also help the new mom out while she recovers from birthing their kid.

I kind of like that idea, although I don’t foresee me and Chels doing this anytime in the near future. We’re just finding our bearings, she’s just now considering the fact that there will be an us, I don’t want to scare her off by bringing up the topic of children of our own… not yet anyway.

I’ve researched the medications she’s been prescribed on a multitude of medical sites, and while they don’t expressly state that a woman shouldn’t get pregnant, and couldn’t successfully carry a pregnancy to term, if she’s able to do so, but they do frown on it.

However, on another forum I read, they strongly suggest against it because of the potential for significant birth defects. Plus, the expectant mother has to come off of all her medication and that of course, increases the risk for seizures.

As far as I’m concerned, Chelsea’s health is more important than carrying a child when there are so many out there wanting and praying to find themselves a forever home and in need of parental love as well as a good, solid male role model.

I don’t need a child to carry my DNA in order for him or her to be mine. Which presses the fact that I’m in no way whatsoever willing to risk my old lady when there are other alternatives. We can provide a safe, stable, loving environment to the kids that have been placed in the system whether it’s from abuse, neglect, or from the death of one or both parents.

Genetics and blood ties don’t make a man a father, his heart and soul do.

Since Poseidon’s concluded church, I head up the stairs, ready to take my woman out on the town and show her a good time. Knocking on the door, I wait for an answer. When I hear small, muffled murmurs, I take that as my invitation to come in and push the slab of wood wide open that’s been a hindrance in keeping me from putting eyes on Chelsea.

Walking in her room, I notice right away that she’s wearing a ball cap turned backward, the brim of the hat sits over the nape of her neck, which doesn’t exactly mesh well with the rest of her outfit.

“Chels?” I query, moving closer. “What’s going on, babe? What’s up with the cap?”

Her expressive eyes turn in my direction, and I notice they’re red and inflamed, and with the evidence of dried tears stained on her cheeks, I’d say she had quite the sob fest.

“We, uh, we tried to fix my hair,” she mumbles.

“Who’s we, honey?” I reach her side and pull her into my arms, not able to keep the distance between us when she’s obviously upset.

“Uh, Gia. Lilli and CeeCee were here too but they didn’t actually do any of the cutting. They were here more or less as moral support for me and so that Gia could keep an eye on them.”

“Can I see what y’all came up with?” I keep my voice low and even because she’s acting like a skittish doe right now.

I mentally steel my expression and put on my poker face, so I don’t react on instinct as she slowly removes the covering. As she waits, more tears well up in her eyes and they start streaking down her flushed face.

“Huh, I wasn’t expecting this to happen as soon as it has,” I murmur.

“What? What weren’t you expecting to happen so soon, Canyon?” she quizzes, a confused look spanning across her face.

“Well, statistics show that the longer a couple is together, the more likely it is they begin to resemble one another, but I wasn’t anticipating it would happen before our first real date,” I solemnly reply, rubbing my hand over my own bald head. “Granted, you’ve got some peach fuzz going on that I’m missing, but for all intents and purposes, we’re a matching set, Chels.”

Her small giggle that reverberates through the room lets me know my comment did what it was intended to do; calm her down.

“Here, let’s make sure wereallymatch,” I tell her, pulling my spare bandana from my back pocket. “Later, I’ll show you how to do this yourself, but right now, I’d like the privilege.” I plant it on her head then tie it the way I wear it under my helmet before leaning in and kissing the tip of her nose. “You know that in ancient times, the female warriors did their hair the same fucking way you have it now. You’re going into battle, babe, like a rebellious gladiator and now you truly look the part.”

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