by Anne Malcom
“In addition to O Luscious One, that is one of the titles I answer to,” I said with false seriousness, ignoring the potential baby sensing ability.
He did not find my phone humor amusing on this day. “Where are you?” he clipped with impatience.
“Where am I?” I repeated, trying to stall. I didn’t want to lie to my husband but I didn’t exactly want to tell him over the phone where I was. Because then he’d get all alpha and demand to know why I was at the doctor, and I was having trouble finding believable alternatives. Hence the stall.
“Mia,” he said in warning.
I sighed. “Jeez Louise, calm down. I’m just getting into my car,” I told him truthfully.
“Where’s the car?” he continued.
“In a parking lot,” I hedged.
“Fuck’s sake, Mia. Tell me why you’re at the fuckin’ doctor.” His voice broke with impatience, and also worry.
I straightened. “Why did you waste all that time asking me where I was if you already knew?” I asked on a sharp tone. “Furthermore, how did you know where I was? Do you have a bug in my car?” I bent down and felt below the seat, beginning my search. I so wouldn’t put it past him.
“One of the boys saw your car. Wanted to know why you wouldn’t tell me you were going. Now I wanna know why you were lying.” His voice was hard. “You okay?” he added softly.
I straightened and abandoned my search. “Damn you, Betty, for being so gosh darned cute and memorable,” I chastised my car.
“Fuck,” Zane muttered with impatience. “I can never have any conversation of importance with you over the phone,” he declared. “Get your ass to the club. Now,” he commanded.
To many his voice may have sounded brutal, scary even. To me I knew it was something else. Love and concern, wrapped in his usual alpha and biker speak.
“Um, maybe we should have this conversation at home,” I told him, not big on declaring the bun in my oven to the entirety of the club just yet.
There was a loaded pause. “I’ll be there in two,” he declared.
“Okay, try not to trample any prospects on your way out the clubhouse,” I half teased before clicking off.
I tried not to worry over the fact Zane said he’d be there in “two” even though the clubhouse was a good fifteen minutes away.
Due to the fact I was actually only five minutes away from home, I arrived before Zane. Which kind of sucked, ’cause in the five minutes it took to drive home, I worked myself into a slight panic over Zane’s possible reaction to his bun in my oven. Yes, we were married. Yes, we were in love. Yes, we were more than old enough to reproduce. I may have tamed Zane slightly, but he was still wild. He still spoke in monosyllables apart from with Lexie and I. We had got him up to smiling in public, and one time he even laughed. But most of the time he kept his scary macho man mask on. So maybe he didn’t want a little baby. Despite the fact he was amazing with Belle, and so gentle with Cade and Gwen’s newest kid, Kingston. It made my womb squeeze every time I saw it. Totally kick ass name, by the way. Then I got sidetracked with names. Our kid’s name would obviously have to be something to reflect the bad assedness of its father, and also the general awesomeness of its mother. Then genders. I already had a girl, so a boy would be nice to round it out. Though at the end of the day I wouldn’t care, as long as it was healthy.
The rumble of a Harley shocked me out of my thoughts and I realized I was still sitting in the car, seatbelt on and everything, staring into space. My door was wrenched open and Zane knelt at my door, eyes hard. He looked like he was bracing.
Shit. Maybe I should have told him on the phone this was actually good news—at least I thought it was—and not sat in the car like a crazy person wondering what Zane would think of the name Arden.
“Mia?” His hand went to my thigh.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to him. “What do you think of the name Arden?” I asked.
His entire frame froze.
Maybe he wasn’t too happy.
“Not bad ass enough,” I muttered, and reached to retrieve the picture of Peanut. I thrust it in his face. “I’m knocked up,” I declared unceremoniously. I probably should’ve tried to be more delicate and announce it in some soft, throaty voice, but I went for the quickest way to calm his freak out.
Zane’s body unlocked and he slowly plucked the picture out of my hand, staring at it like it held the secrets to the universe. He then looked at my belly. Then my eyes.
“How pregnant?” he asked weirdly.
I chewed my lip nervously. “Um, how pregnant can someone be?” I paused. “Considering your general level of bad assedness and assuming that translates to your swimmers, I’d say a lot pregnant. Like the most pregnant you can be. Pregnant to my throat,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood and to disguise the fact I was terrified of the fact his face was betraying nothing.
Zane twisted me so my torso faced his and his hands rested on either of my thighs. “How far along?” he clarified, not finding me hilarious.
“Six weeks,” I informed him in a small voice.
He stared at me a long time before uttering something weird. “Not far enough.”
I frowned at him. “Not far enough for what?”
His hand moved to cup my face. “To fuckin’ tell every one of my brothers the woman I love is having my baby,” he said fiercely. “To inform the whole world I’m the happiest mother fucker on the planet.”
And with that he lifted me out of the car. My legs wrapped around him automatically. His hands squeezed my ass. “You’re having my baby,” he muttered against my mouth, walking us inside.
I smiled and a warm feeling settled in my belly. “I’m having your baby,” I repeated.
“Sunshine,” he murmured between kisses. “Just given me eternal sunshine with that, Wildcat.”
Seven Months Later
“Rolling Stone. Are you fucking KIDDING me?” Sam shouted into the phone. He paced around the hotel room. No, you could safely say he skipped. Noah lounged on the sofa eating Cheetos. Wyatt was doing sit-ups on the floor. Lexie was curled up in an armchair, scribbling their latest song into her notebook. It was about heartbreak. Shocker. Considering most of the songs she wrote were filled with pain and suffering, nothing that mirrored what she felt in her own heart, of course, but a fraction. And that fraction made for good music. The best, actually. Good enough to get them noticed in a big way. Well on their way to becoming famous. They had almost finished their album. Already released a single that made it to the top freaking ten within a week of being released. They were making money. Not a little, but a lot. They had fans. Not a little either. A lot. The boys had girls. Groupies, you might call them. A sickening amount of them. Lexie had her own group of guys who tried to sleaze onto her whenever they were out partying. She barely noticed them. How could she? They didn’t know her. Didn’t want to know her. Only one person knew her down to the depths of her soul, owned her soul. That person also ripped her heart out and stomped over it with motorcycle boots. It was a mangled mess, one that only beat for music, one she feared would never be repaired enough to give to someone else.
“Did you hear that, Lex?” Sam shook her by the shoulders. “The cover of fucking Rolling Stone! What did I tell you fuckers?” he addressed the room.
Everyone was laughing and grinning. Lexie played along, even had a sip of the champagne that appeared out of nowhere. She was only eighteen, so strictly not allowed to be having it, but she found, being in a moderately successful band made things like the legal drinking age insignificant.
When her phone rang she did her best to sound cheerful and not full of pain like she normally did. Except when she was on stage. That’s when she let it all go. Put all that hurt and suffering into her music. Her version of therapy. Unquiet Minds’—the name that had finally decided on two years ago—pathway to success.
“I have no idea how you actually know this fast, since Sam literally got off the phone with our actual manager, but
yes, you can totally be behind the scenes and be my stylist,” Lexie greeted her mother’s call, knowing she would already be losing the plot. Though she didn’t know how she’d be behind the scenes of their shoot with her water being about to burst and all, but she’d find a way. She’d have the baby between shots, knowing her. She’d found a way to spend huge amounts of time with them in LA when they were there, and more often than not that meant Zane. Which Lexie loved. Some people would hate having their mom and crazy protective biker stepfather around when they were trying to make it as a band. Lexie didn’t. She wished they would come on tour. Her mom was her best friend. Zane was her...dad. Maybe not in blood, but she knew that’s how he thought of her. How he treated her. His silence was what she needed sometimes. Just to be around him, play songs with him.
So when he instead of her mom spoke through the phone, she knew something was wrong. She knew it the minute he spoke.
Lexie was pretty sure Sam broke the land speed record in the drive from San Francisco to Amber. It definitely shouldn’t have taken them just over an hour. Regardless of that fact, Lexie was glad Sam drove like a madman. And she launched herself out of the car the minute he pulled up. The band followed. When it became apparent she couldn’t drive herself due to the fact she was freaking out, Sam insisted he drive. When the rest of the boys heard what happened, they would not hear of them being left behind. Lexie’s mom was like a second mom to them all. The band was a family. They stuck together.
When Lexie raced through the doors to the hospital, she laid eyes on her other family. The club. She tried not to flinch at the sight of Killian and the way he stood when he saw her. The way his eyes on her gave her strength at the same time as sending a bullet through her fractured heart. She tried to ignore him. She mostly succeeded because she saw Zane, and everyone else fell away. She ran into his arms. He squeezed her tight and she relaxed slightly at how strong they were.
“Mom?” she asked quietly when he had pulled back.
She did flinch when she saw the look on Zane’s face. The one that told her he was slipping back into that man she met changing a tire over two years ago. That couldn’t happen.
“Don’t know anything yet, Lex,” his voice was rough and he seemed to be barely holding on.
She put a hand on his arm. “The baby?” she asked in an even smaller voice.
Zane’s eyes turned solid and he seemed to be unable to speak a moment. “Don’t know ‘bout him either, doll,” he said with resignation in his tone. Like he had already mentally prepared for the loss.
Lexie wasn’t having that. “They’re going to be fine,” she told him firmly, not letting herself believe anything less.
She moved to grasp his hand in hers and squeezed it tightly, to reassure him. His eyes softened just a tad and he moved to put his arm around her.
They stood like that for half an hour, not speaking, Lexie actively ignoring the concerned gaze of the man who ripped her to pieces. She was too busy focusing on holding her dad together. On praying for her mom.
The only time Zane spoke was when he quickly and flatly described what had happened. Lexie knew his tone wasn’t due to lack of feeling, but instead too much of it. He had found her mom bleeding and unconscious. She was eight and a half months pregnant. Zane looked like he was going to snatch one of the doctors who kept hurrying through the waiting room. She had to physically stop him from striding through the doors marked “medical personnel only” at one point. She reckoned that wasn’t the first time either, because when he made the move Brock, Cade and Lucky all got up quickly.
Finally, a doctor came through the doors and his eyes settled on the club, who had taken over the entire waiting room.
“Mia Williams?”
Lexie and Mia had both taken Zane’s name. As of two weeks ago, Zane was officially Lexie’s dad, with adoption papers sealing it. Adoption papers that were framed in their living room at home.
Zane stepped forward quickly, right in the doctor’s grill. Inches away. Lexie was at his side, which meant she went with him. Not that she minded. She needed to know what was going on with her mom and her little brother. She needed it to be good news.
“That’s my wife,” he barked and the doctor jumped slightly. “How is she?”
The doctor’s eyes softened slightly. “She’s fine.” Lexie felt Zane’s entire form relax. “She was suffering from placental abruption, which cause the bleeding and slight complications with the delivery, which is why we have kept you waiting so long.” His face was sympathetic, but didn’t look like a mask he wore when delivering bad news. Lexie felt warmth creep back into her belly.
“The baby?” Zane ground out, his face still blank.
The doctor smiled. “You have a healthy baby boy, congratulations.”
Lexie heard a cheer from behind her, and she was pretty sure most of it came from her boys. Everything in her relaxed and she finally let herself breathe properly. She turned to Zane. He was smiling. Like full on grinning, ear to ear.
“Want to meet your son?” the doctor asked him.
Zane squeezed Lexie’s shoulder. “Yeah, my daughter’s coming too,” he said softly.
And with that Lexie’s already huge, dysfunctional and loving family got a whole lot bigger. And what she had told her mom the day she found out she was pregnant was further cemented. Zane was the best dad in the world.
I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my novels. I’m so grateful to all of my readers for their support and the kind messages I get showing love for the Sons of Templar. I’m especially happy to have been able to give Bull his HEA, since he not only deserved it, but so many of you have been asking for it. He was someone always special to my heart when I started The Sons of Templar, and I knew he’d need not one but two amazing ladies to bring him out of the darkness.
Once again, my betas have been amazing and helped to ensure Out Of The Ashes was the best it could be. Sarah, Jennifer, Amy and Judy, you ladies are amazing!
If you liked this book, I would love it if you could take then time to leave a review. I’m an indie author who does all of this on my own, so reviews help to share the Sons of Templar with the world.
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Anne
xxx
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Anne Malcom has been an avid reader since before she can remember, her mother responsible for her book addiction. It started with magical journeys into the world of Hogwarts and Middle Earth; then as she grew up her reading tastes grew with her. Her obsession with books and romance novels in particular gave Anne the opportunity to find another passion, writing. Finding writing about alpha males and happily ever afters more fun than reading about them, Anne is not about to stop any time soon.
Raised in small town New Zealand, Anne had a truly special childhood, growing up in one of the most beautiful countries in the world. She has backpacked across Europe, ridden camels in the Sahara, eaten her way through Italy, and had all sorts of crazy adventures. For now, she's back at home in New Zealand and quite happy. But who knows when the travel bug will bite her a
gain?
