Sam, brave girl, had tackled his shitty apartment with everything she had. It was still a shitty apartment, but it had a fresh coat of paint, was sparkling clean, and boasted usable furniture that had either been repaired or replaced. The baby stuff they’d bought two weeks ago. Crib, swing, changing table, rocking chair, toys, diapers, formula.
They hadn’t asked them to, but Carter and Tango had both moved into the clubhouse. “You guys need space,” Tango had said with a sincere, if tired smile. “We don’t mind.”
But Aidan carried dread like a heavy stone in his belly. His best friend stood on treacherous emotional footing. Every time Aidan tried to reach out beyond their typical club and bro talk, he ran face-first into a glacial wall that spooked him, if he was honest. Tango wasn’t okay. Tango was going to do something rash. And short of strong-arming him into therapy, Aidan was running out of ideas.
The door to their private waiting room opened. “Is she here?” Maggie asked without preamble as she and Ghost entered.
The lawyer flicked them a curious glance, then shut his eyes and pretended to sleep.
Aidan’s throat tightened up and he had to swallow.
“Not yet,” Sam answered. She smiled as Ghost and Mags sat down across from them. “But a nurse came by a little while ago and said everything was going well so far.”
“That happened?” He had zero memory of it.
Sam patted his knee. “Yes, baby. It’s all fine. It just takes a little time to have a baby.”
Maggie nodded. “And as uptight as Tonya is–” She cut herself off, grinning, and Sam snorted.
Ghost adopted what was becoming his waiting-for-a-baby-to-be-born pose: arms folded across his chest, feet splayed out on the tile, a general air of don’t-talk-to-me. The MC president equivalent of a queen’s little royal wave. His eyes were bright, though, with what Aidan could only read as grandfatherly excitement.
“You all set up at home?” he asked.
Aidan nodded. “It only took me two days to figure out that fucking crib” – Ghost grinned – “but yeah, everything’s ready.”
“You think the crib is bad, wait till you see the stroller.”
“Greeeaaaat….”
“The stroller wasn’t that bad,” Maggie said. “Your father just refused to read the instructions.”
“They were in goddamn Spanish.”
“Only on the one side. You had to flip it over.”
“Who’s got time for that?”
“Apparently not the man who beat the stroller shut on the sidewalk in the pouring rain.”
Sam made a sound Aidan knew was a squelched laugh, and he glanced over to see her biting her lip, a smile dancing in her eyes. Her cheeks glowed pink with humor…and excitement. She was excited. His amazing old lady – she couldn’t wait to welcome their baby home.
I love you, he thought.
The softening of her gaze told him she’d read his mind, and that she loved him too.
The door opened.
That old adage about a pin dropping? It was happening now. All heads turned toward the threshold, toward the white-coated doctor and the nurse who stood in the doorway. The doctor held a tiny bundle wrapped in white in her arms, and she beamed at all of them.
“I have a little girl here who’d really like to meet her daddy.”
“Oh God,” Maggie whispered.
Ghost stiffened, drew upright.
Sam clutched his shoulder, fingers digging tight.
Aidan couldn’t breathe. His lungs stopped working. He looked at his stepmother, at the tears standing in her hazel eyes. Looked at his wife, at her encouraging smile, wavering with emotion. He tried to draw air into his chest and failed, looked back at the doctor instead.
