A Christmas Surprise for the Biker (MIAMI SAINTS MC)

Chapter One

B raelynn

The Greyhound pulls into the bus station, its brakes squealing loudly before finally comes to a complete stop. Eyes wide, I glance down at my son, praying that God-awful noise didn’t wake him again. I let out the breath I was holding when I see he’s still sleeping soundly in his car seat beside me.

Thank the gods.

Ryder was fussy the entire ride from Jacksonville to Miami. My gut tells me he knows something is off. They say babies can pick up on stress, and I’ve been a nervous wreck since the second we climbed on this bus this morning.

To make matters worse, I haven’t missed the looks I’ve gotten from the people seated around us. Some have pity on their faces for the single mom all alone on a bus with a screaming baby. Others have disdain written all over their judgy faces.

Assholes.

I can’t worry about it, though. I came here to confront my son’s father, and that’s the only thing I need to be focused on.

“Here we go, baby boy.”

I unbuckle Ry’s car seat, then slide out into the aisle, lifting his carrier into one hand while adjusting my backpack and his diaper bag on my shoulder with the other.

Time to get the hell off this bus.

Loaded down with too much stuff, I inch down the aisle toward the front, not missing the latest round of judgmental looks. It’s taking all my self-control not to snap at them.

Do they think I don’t know what I look like with the dark circles under my eyes, my hair that looks like a rat’s nest pulled up on top of my head in a messy bun, and my clothes that are covered with my baby’s spit-up?

I get it.

I’m a hot mess, but losing everything I worked for while trying to figure out how to be a mom hasn’t been easy.

Whatever.

I lift my chin and steel my spine as I maneuver down the steps. When I hit the bottom one and step out into the Miami heat, I look around for a taxi. My heart sinks when I don’t see one anywhere.

“Shit.” This place is a ghost town.

I guess with it being Christmas Eve, nobody wanted to be working, hauling around tourists when they can be at home with their families.

My eyes drop to my son. “Looks like we’re walking, buddy.”

Hiking our bags higher up on my shoulder and adjusting my hold on Ry’s carrier, I take off in the direction of the Miami Saints clubhouse.

Ready or not. Here we come.

What has to be every bit of two miles, I finally see the clubhouse come into view. Thank the gods.

I’ve got sweat in places I don’t even want to think about. Approaching the fence that surrounds the compound, I set Ryder’s carrier down on the ground and look around. The fence is high, every bit of ten feet with razor wire at the top. I’m surprised at how different it is from the clubhouse in Jacksonville.

“How the hell do we get in there?” I whisper the words out loud as I look around for a way in.

No sooner are the words out of my mouth than a man wearing a black leather cut and faded jeans step outside the gate with his eyes trained on me.

“What the fuck are you doing snooping around out here?” he shouts, his voice deep and growly.

I quickly grab the handle of Ry’s car seat and take a healthy step back. This guy is huge, and he doesn’t look friendly at all.

“I’m looking for Legend.”

His massive arms cross over his chest and my eyes zero in on the Prospect patch on the front of his leather vest.

“What do you want with Legend?” His thick brow goes up.

I shift the car seat to my other hand. “I need to talk to him. It’s important.”

He looks me over before taking in my son. His eyes linger on Ryder for a long beat, and I know the second he sees what everyone else does when they look at my son. He’s the mini-me of his father.

The prospect’s wide eyes dart up to mine and he shoves a beefy hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Wait here,” he orders, doing something on the screen before putting it to his ear.

I roll my eyes, because seriously—where does he think I’m going to go? We’re miles away from anything, and I don’t have anywhere else to go.

Sighing, I turn back to the fence, praying Legend will agree to see me. As the thought goes through my mind, the clubhouse door opens, and out he steps. I watch as he scans the parking area before his eyes finally meet mine, and my breath hitches.

Legend.

It’s been a year since I last saw him. His shoulders are wider, and his hair is a little longer than I’m used to seeing it, but my heart skips a beat like it’s always done when he’s near.

Even from here, I see his eyes widen when he realizes it’s me. In a flash, he jogs across the lot and through the gates, pulling up short when he catches sight of the car seat sitting at my feet.

“Braelynn?” he rumbles low, the sound feeling like a lash to my heart, “What are you doing here?”

I pull in a shaky breath as I steel myself for what I came here to do. “I need your help.”

His eyes go back to Ry. “Help with what?”

I glance down at my son, then lift my head so I can look him in the eye. “With him,” I answer.

His lips turn down in a harsh frown. It’s been a year, but I know I remember that look. He’s not happy. “With your kid?”

Here goes nothing.

Pulling in a steadying breath and slowly letting it out, I square my shoulders. “He's our kid.”

Legend’s brows shoot up to his hairline as he takes a big step back. The move feels like a boot to the gut, but I’m not backing down. I need him to step up and help me out.

“The fuck?” he growls, his eyes bouncing back and forth from me to Ry.

“I get that you’re pissed and didn’t want to see me again, but I’m out of options. I need your help.”

In a move I’m not expecting, he closes the distance between us, drops to his knees, and reaches out his hand, gently brushing his fingers across Ryder’s cheek. The sight of his tattooed hand against Ry’s flawless porcelain skin brings tears to my eyes.

Slowly, he lifts his head, his eyes searching mine. “He’s really mine?”

“Yes.” A barrage of thoughts is telegraphed across his face: shock, wonder, awe, finally settling on anger. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” The growled accusation has my hackles going up. The nerve of this asshole. He’s the one who ghosted me.

“I tried to find you! You’re the one who shut your damn phone off, Legend. I’ve called—a thousand times if not more!”

“You could have come here sooner!” he shouts back.

“How? I don’t even know your real name, for heaven’s sake. The only reason I knew to come here is because Chief’s wife was trying to piss off her old man and let it slip that you were here.” I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. What we had was good, or at least I thought it was.

His face softens, understanding dawning in his eyes as he stands. “Fuck, Brae. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, sniffing as I bat at the tears streaming down my cheeks. “Don’t. I get it. You never made any promises, and it was what it was.” I wipe my palms down my jeans. “I know that it’s not entirely your fault.” And it’s not. I know this deep down. “That’s not what we were to each other,” I say the truth out loud and it stings. I wasn’t his girlfriend. We weren’t a couple. We had an arrangement. When he happened to be in Jacksonville with his club, he’d stop by my place, and we hooked up. It was casual and it was good. No, it was great. At least I thought it was until he disappeared off the face of the earth, and I was left to face finding out I was pregnant all alone.

He reaches out, his hand cupping my cheek. “Been thinking about you for fucking months, baby.”

My eyes close at the contact, and I lean into his touch.

God, I’ve missed him.

He drops his hand, and my eyes slowly open to see the blue eyes that are a mirror image of my son’s. “Come inside,” he says, gesturing for me to hand him Ry’s seat. I do and then, to my surprise, his hand shoots out and his fingers lace through mine.

“I don’t expect?—”

“Relax, Brae.”

My mouth snaps shut. Hand-holding is not something we’ve ever done before, but if I’m being honest, I think I kind of like it.

As we approach the clubhouse, I can hear music and laughing coming from inside. It sounds like a party is in full swing, and I start to rethink my timing. This probably wasn’t the best day to show up here unannounced. Before I apologize for showing up out of the blue, he drops my hand and shifts Ry to his other side before motioning for me to go in first.

“Thanks,” I mumble, moving past him only to almost be knocked on my ass when a half-naked club whore shoves past me and takes a flying leap, her arms and legs going around Legend like a spider monkey.

In a flash, his arms go out to his sides, Ryder, strapped in his seat, still clutched firmly in one of his strong hands. “Where did you go, baby? I thought we were going to party?” she giggles.

I know I shouldn’t care, but my heart sinks into my belly as a tidal wave of doubt and jealousy crashes over me. “I’m such an idiot.” Reaching out, I take Ryder’s carrier.

“Shit!” he hisses, releasing Ry to me before quickly working to detach his passenger. I should have prepared myself more before coming here.

I’m not sticking around to watch this.

When I turn to move past him, he grabs hold of my arm and stops me in my tracks. “It’s not what you think.”

I can’t help but snort. I wasn’t born yesterday. I know exactly what the whore is getting at.

“Okay, it is what you think,” he growls, tightening his hold on my arm before turning to the bimbo staring at him with a pout on her face. “Get gone, Daisy.”

Her lips turn down. “But?—”

“Now!” he snaps.

“Let me go! I’ll leave,” I insist as he drags me behind him to a booth in the corner. He points to the worn bench seat.

“Sit.” I narrow my eyes at the demand, but do as he says, sitting Ry’s seat on top of the table and sliding in. It’s not like I have a whole lot of other choices. There’s literally nowhere else for me to go.

Legend slides in across from me, his eyes trained on Ryder, still sleeping, oblivious to the shitstorm brewing over his momma’s head.

“Don’t you need to get back to your date ?” I snap.

He sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. “It wasn’t a date and you know it. Now, stop being a bitch and tell me about him.”