Chapter Fourteen
WEDNESDAY EVENING, BAZ climbed off his motorcycle in front of the old brick schoolhouse that was now the Dark Knights’ clubhouse and pulled his vibrating phone from his pocket. He grinned at Emerson’s name on the text message. After hearing about the solitary life she’d lived in New York, he’d decided to bring Sidney with him when he’d taken Ollie home that morning, hoping to give Emerson another friend she could trust. He’d also brought a case of sparkling apple-cranberry juice, so she wouldn’t run out anytime soon.
Emerson had teared up the second she’d seen Ollie, and her pup had been just as elated. Baz had expected him to jump up, since they’d been apart for several days, and he was pleased that it had taken only one correction for the pooch to remember what he’d learned. Ollie had been curious about the baby, sniffing and staying close, but he hadn’t shown any signs of aggression or jealousy. Baz had stuck around for a little more than an hour, making sure Emerson was comfortable and there were no issues before heading to work, leaving Sidney to teach Emerson the commands she’d taught Ollie and giving them time to get to know each other.
Two hours later he’d received a text from Sidney telling him that Ollie was doing great and how much she liked Emerson. She said she’d stop by to check on them when she could over the next few days to make sure Ollie didn’t backslide. Half an hour later he’d received several texts from Emerson.
Emerson: Did you swap my dog for a doppelg?nger? He’s SO well behaved!
Emerson: I’m pretty sure he loves Brennan as much as I do, and he’s just as in love with Sidney.
Emerson: I might be, too. She added a laughing emoji. Sid is a miracle worker.
Emerson: Thank you again for asking her and Gunner to take care of my four-legged baby.
Baz: I’m glad it worked out.
Emerson: She gave me the dirt on you and your cousins.
Baz: You can’t believe everything you hear.
Emerson: I think I can, Dr. Dimples.
He didn’t know what Sidney had told her, but he had Evie to thank for that particular nickname.
As he headed up to the clubhouse, he opened the new text from Emerson, and a picture popped up of her sitting on a blanket on the floor holding Brennan. Ollie was lying beside them, with his head on her lap, watching the baby. Baz’s chest constricted. How was it possible that he missed them when he’d just seen them that morning? He wasn’t going to see them again until Friday, when he was driving them to Brennan’s pediatrician appointment. A little distance would do him good. He was too into her, and he’d gotten too comfortable, making comments he shouldn’t have to a woman who had just had a baby.
Pocketing his phone, he pulled open the door to the clubhouse and headed inside, startling as boots hit the floor and every man in the place rose to his feet, cheering, “ Daddy Baz! ”
What the…? Blue and white helium balloons were tied to tables and chairs, more floated around the room, their long blue ribbons dancing beneath them, and a banner announcing I T ’ S A B OY hung behind the head table.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Baz scrubbed a hand down his face, laughing and cursing, fighting a strange sort of pride.
“Congratulations!” a bunch of them hollered.
“Y’all know he’s not mine.” As Baz made his way across the room to where his brothers and cousins were cracking up, guys handed him cigars, clapped him on the shoulder, congratulated him, asked how the Mrs. was doing, and asked if he was sick of changing diapers yet, to all of which he answered, “Fuck off,” earning hearty laughter.
He dropped the dozen or so cigars they’d shoved into his hands onto the table and eyed Zander and Gunner. “Which of you two idiots masterminded this bullshit?”
“It wasn’t us, man,” Gunner said.
“I wish we’d thought of this,” Zander said. “This is some epic shit.”
Baz narrowed his eyes, his gaze sliding curiously over Blaine, Maverick, and Zeke, who were shaking their heads. “No fucking way. Tank? ” He turned to look at his older brother.
A sly grin curved Tank’s lips, but he shook his head. His dark eyes moved over Baz’s shoulder just as a heavy hand landed on it, and their father appeared beside him with their uncle Preacher. They were two of the toughest men Baz knew, but while Preacher exuded an air of authority that demanded attention, with serious ice-blue eyes, pitch-black brows, slicked-back salt-and-pepper hair, a matching beard, and a body full of ink, his father, who went by the road name Con, not because his name was Conroy, gave off a playful vibe, much like Gunner and Baz, with his collar-length silver hair, killer dimples, and chiseled movie-star features.
His father gave his shoulder a squeeze. “It’s not every day your son delivers a baby.”
“Word around town is that all the single ladies are kicking themselves for not figuring out the baby scheme to snag Mr. Husband Material,” Preacher said with a smirk, making the guys chuckle.
Baz scoffed at their shit-eating grins.
“So, are you officially off the market?” Maverick asked.
“Say yes,” Zander urged. “More women for me. That is, unless Emerson is looking for a real man to eat her cookies .”
Baz jabbed a finger in Zander’s chest. “You stay the fuck away from Emerson and her cookies. And no , I’m not off the fucking market. This isn’t that .” Even if every iota of him wanted it to be.
“You’re getting pretty riled up for a guy who doesn’t want her cookies,” Zeke said.
“I didn’t say I don’t want them,” Baz bit out. “I… We’re …Fuck you all. Can we just start the damn meeting already?”
The guys laughed.
“This is a first. I’ve never seen Baz befuddled,” Zeke said.
Zander barked out a laugh. “It’s damn good entertainment.”
Baz scowled at him.
“Watch it, Zan,” Preacher said. “There’s nothing more dangerous than a caged lion.”
“Even if he put that lock on the cage himself,” his father said, like he’d read Baz’s mind.
“You boys try to behave.” Preacher lifted his chin toward the front of the room.
Preacher and Con strode toward the head table. As the president and vice president of the chapter, that was the cue for the forty-plus members to take their seats. Baz sat at a table with his cousins and brothers, the din of the room quieting.
The meeting was called to order, and as club finances and other administrative business were discussed, Baz’s thoughts were on Emerson. After the state he’d found her in last night, he hated leaving her alone tonight almost as much as he hated the idea of not seeing her until Friday. He’d asked his mother to stop by to see if she needed anything while he was at church, and he’d been relieved when she’d said she’d already planned on it, but it wasn’t the same as being there himself.
He pulled out his phone and navigated to the picture she’d sent in her last text. But as he took in her smiling eyes, he saw flashes of a younger, heartbroken Emerson sprinting in the darkness toward loving parents who’d been stolen out from under her without warning. He felt a weight sinking into his chest. The weight of grief that he knew had a hard and fast starting point but never really ended.
Fuck.
Tank nudged him with his elbow, lifting his chin in question, brows slanted.
“Nothing.” Baz pocketed his phone.
Tank leaned closer, whispering gruffly, “Talk after the meeting?”
“Nah. I’m good.” He was anything but good , but talking wouldn’t do shit to ease the conflicting emotions eating away at him.
“The next order of business is the annual Suicide-Awareness Ride and Rally in honor of Connor and Ginger’s beloved daughter, and my niece, Ashley.” Preacher looked thoughtfully at Conroy and then at Baz and his brothers and cousins, his silent support weaving around them. His attention lingered on Maverick, who had been fostered and later adopted by Preacher and his wife, Reba. Maverick had had a rough start to life, with a thieving father and losing his mother to suicide when he was just a little boy. Maverick didn’t like to talk about that time in his life, which was why Preacher wasn’t honoring Maverick’s mother publicly.
As Preacher returned his attention to the group, doling out details about the event, Baz and his brothers shared a knowing nod, silently acknowledging their own support for the sister they missed every fucking day of their lives.
When Preacher finished talking about the event, he handed the floor to Conroy, who said, “Wicked Animal Rescue will be holding its annual adoption event later this summer, and Gunner has asked to say a few words.” He nodded to Gunner.
Gunner pushed to his feet. “Y’all know the drill. We’d appreciate it if you could share details about the event on social media and put up flyers at your work or hand them out wherever you think it’ll help. There are flyers on the head table, and you can download flyers and graphics from our website. Sid and Tori are coordinating volunteers and donations.”
“Is Steph making those caramel brownies again?” Zander asked.
“Yes, she is—” A round of cheers rang out, cutting off Gunner. When they quieted, he said, “I’m hoping Baz’s new baby mama, Emerson, will make some of her delicious cookies, too.”
Tank and his cousins cheered, and hell if Baz wasn’t grinning like a fool. “I’ll see what I can do,” he promised. It would be the perfect excuse for him to spend more time with Emerson and Brennan. But the event was two months away, and she was so exhausted, he decided to wait a few weeks to bring up the idea. Give her time to get rest and heal.
As Gunner finished his spiel, Baz sent a text to check on Emerson.
Baz: How’s your night?
Emerson: Good. Your mom and Mads are here.
He was glad Madigan had gone with his mother, giving Emerson even more support.
Emerson: Ginger brought me a breast pump, and Mads brought me a copy of the next book they’re reading in their book club. She really wants me to go to their meeting next month.
Emerson: What is with your family?
Baz: I don’t know what you mean.
Emerson: It’s impossible not to like them.
Baz: Like someone else I know.
Fuck. He needed to rein that in.
She sent a blushing emoji.
He’d like to see that blush in person and watch it deepen when he told her he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Which was why he moved to a safer subject.
Baz: How’s LittleB?
Three dots danced, like she was typing. He waited, and a minute later another text popped up.
Madigan: You’re supposed to be at a meeting! This is our time with Emerson. Put your phone away or I’m going to text my dad.
Baz chuckled.
“Is there something you’d like to share with the group, Baz?” Preacher asked.
Baz looked up from his phone and realized everyone was watching him. “Sorry. Veterinary issue.”
When Preacher continued the meeting, Gunner leaned closer to Baz, whispering, “I can’t remember the last time a vet issue made you smile like that.”
Because none ever have.
Baz behaved for the rest of what felt like the longest meeting in the history of the club, although, in reality, it was only an hour and a half, and he stuck around to shoot the shit with the guys afterward. But he was edgy as fuck. All he wanted was to go see Emerson and Brennan.
Nearly an hour later, when everyone finally headed out to go to the Salty Hog, Baz got another text. Hoping it was Emerson, he whipped out his phone. But his hopes were quickly dashed.
Evie: Meet you at the Hog?
Baz: Maybe later.
Evie: Going to see Emerson?
While Evie had initially been worried about Baz protecting his heart, when he’d gotten to work this morning, she’d been more concerned about Emerson. She knew how hard it was to be a single parent. Her parents had divorced when she was young, and their friends Starr and Justice were also single parents. Their kids were no longer babies, but Evie and Baz, along with a number of others, had been there to help them through the early years.
Baz: Yeah. I want to make sure she’s okay.
Evie: Good. From what you’ve said, she doesn’t seem the type to ask for help. But be careful. She might need space after last night.
Evie: Let me know if we’re rescheduling appts again.
Baz: Will do.
How did he get lucky enough to have a friend like Evie? And why was his next thought about wanting her and Emerson to become friends, too?
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, he stood on Emerson’s front porch listening as she unlocked the door, each sound ratcheting up his anticipation.
The door opened, and his fucking heart nearly stopped. Emerson stood before him, adorably sexy in cute cotton shorts and the T-shirt he’d forgotten he’d left in her washer. Her golden-brown hair was loose and tousled. A few strands hung in front of one eye, and she had a piece of something stuck in the shiny waves.
“Hi,” she said in a hushed voice as Ollie pushed past her, tail wagging. “What are you doing here?”
He kept his eyes on her as he loved up Ollie. “I was in the area making sure there weren’t any pregnant women giving birth on the side of the road and thought I’d stop by.”
She laughed softly, and her gaze moved over his chest. “I’m glad I got to see you in your cut. You look like a badass biker instead of an edgy vet, but I thought you were going out with the guys after church.”
If she knew that her knowledge of biker culture was as attractive to him as his dimples were to her, she might be more careful about using it. “Turns out I’d rather be here.”
She bit her lower lip, cheeks pinking up. “I was just going to watch Schitt’s Creek and probably fall asleep after one or two episodes.”
“Sounds perfect. Then I’ll carry you to bed and be on my way, knowing you and Brennan are safe and sound.”
“I’m too heavy for you to carry.”
“I’ve carried dogs that weigh more than you.” He looked down at Ollie as he petted him. “She’s a tough one, huh, boy?” Lifting his gaze, he remembered what Evie had said about Emerson needing space. Damn it to hell. He’d be a dick if he didn’t honor that. “Do you really want me to leave? Because if you do—”
“ No , but—”
“Then this is the part where you invite me in.” He wasn’t about to give her a chance to change her mind.
She pressed her lips together, the edges curving up. “I don’t want you to leave, but I feel guilty that you’re spending so much time here. Madigan said she and Tobias and Evie were meeting you and the other guys at the Salty Hog. Are you sure you want to waste your night sitting around here?”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
Her blush deepened, but she opened the door wider, waving him in. “You are a glutton for punishment.”
He stepped inside, standing so close he could smell her shampoo. When her eyes flicked up to his with a spark of attraction, he didn’t even try to keep the innuendo out of his voice. “I’m a glutton for something all right.”
Her eyes widened just a fraction, and her lips twitched like she was working hard to fight a smile.
So fucking sexy.
There was probably something wrong with that thought since she’d just had a baby, but there it was, glaring in his mind like a beacon. In an effort to break the spell she seemed to continuously cast over him, he plucked the thing he’d seen in her hair and assessed it. “Is this a piece of a cookie?”
“Ohmygod.” She snagged it from his fingers and headed into the living room, where she put it on a plate that held a partially eaten cookie. “You try eating with a baby in your arms.”
“There’s no shame in saving food for later.”
She rolled her eyes.
He was glad to see a half-empty glass of milk next to the plate. His heart swelled at the sight of Brennan sleeping in the bassinet beside the couch, sucking on his pacifier, his little elbows bent, tiny fingers curled into fists on either side of his head. Baz crouched beside him, whispering, “Hey, little man. I missed your adorable little mug today. I might’ve missed your mama, too, but we won’t tell her that.” He kissed Brennan’s head, and as he pushed to his feet, he caught Emerson staring at him with a dreamy look in her eyes. Christ, that was a good look on her.
She tore her gaze away, mumbling something about her freaking hormones , and snagged the remote. “If you’re staying, put those dimples away.”
“Done.” He schooled his expression and picked up a paperback from the coffee table that had a cowboy on the cover. Hot for Love. “You into cowboys, Lockhart?”
“That’s the book Mads gave me for the book club. I told you she really wants me to go to the meeting.”
He turned it over and read a quote from the back cover. “‘An erotic friends-to-lovers romance. When you’re done reading, you’ll want to save a horse and ride a cowboy.’” He scoffed and put the book back on the table. “Erotic friends-to-lovers sounds good, but stick with biker books. They’ve got to be hotter.”
“Actually, cowboy bikers are the hottest thing out there right now.”
“Guess I’ll be buying myself a cowboy hat.” He grinned.
She put a hand on her hip. “What did I just say about those dimples?”
“Save your breath, darlin’. You know they’re impossible to lock down.” Fuck reining it in. He sat on the couch, pulling her down beside him.
“You’re a pain.”
He couldn’t resist cocking another grin. “So I’ve heard.”