Table of Contents
Baby and the Biker
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Epilogue
THE END
Military Letters
Hot Set
Protected by the Biker
Gunner (The Bad Disciples MC #1)
Hawk (The Road Rebels MC #1)
Rider (The Fallen Reapers MC)
More Books by Savannah Rylan
Copyright
Baby and the Biker
by Savannah Rylan
Chapter One
Reagan
My day had been long. I woke up to the sun on my face, but everywhere I went I was reminded of what I didn’t have. Women were clinging to the arms of men they loved and men were picking up the women they adored on street corners to go get breakfast. Mothers with children were walking their dogs and fathers with dogs were running home to get back to their families. The streets were hustling with people. The smell of exhaust and the fog of the city shrouded the dark alleyways and the people sleeping in them who had given up.
The sun had shone all day. It had streamed through my office window as I sat there, filling out paperwork and editing manuscripts. Working for a publishing company as their chief editor was an honor, but it didn’t come without its punishments. If my phone wasn’t filled with phone calls stepped in anger, I always had my mailbox. Fraught with handwritten letters cursing me out for daring to send back manuscripts after denying them. I tried to do them all some favors. Jot some notes down on how they could make their writing more appealing to the masses.
But no one seemed to enjoy my critical remarks.
“You’re just an editor. Not a writer.”
“You don’t understand the time I put into this.”
“You’re an editor because you’re not a creative soul like me. You could only hope to write something as good as this.”
“I’ll be taking my business somewhere else.”
Yeah. Like they had something to offer.
Seattle had become my home after moving there for college. Getting out of Alabama was the best thing I’d ever done for myself. I never fit in with the countryside. Surrounded by bonfires and southern drawls and sweet tea. I didn’t know how people drank the stuff. Every time I was caught drinking green tea, people always asked me if it was sweetened. Like they couldn’t possibly consume something unless it had the risk of giving them diabetes.
I was so happy when I had gotten accepted to the University of Washington.
My original plan was to major in Business. I had this passion to blossom my own success, and I figured everything else would come fluidly. That was the point of college, right? To get everything under control while you’re there. So, I majored in Business, minored in English, and decided to take everything as it came. While I had a scholarship, it didn’t help with all of my expenses. So, I created a side-business while I was there called ‘Side Notes’. It started as a simple editing service for college papers, but quickly flourished into a place where panicking students could come to have last-minute papers written. I ran it out of my off-campus dorm room, charging premium prices for people who wanted me to write their term papers.
And that’s where the idea hit me. After I graduated, I could open my own editing service. Take this talent and introduce it into the real world. Hell, maybe I would continue to write books and papers for people. I figured I could branch out into dissertations and theological seminary paperwork. I knew people would pay top dollar for that kind of thing. I could take on employees and give out bonuses for people who brought me new clients. In my mind, it was the perfect plan. The perfect use of my degree as well as my minor.
But things didn’t go as planned. Starting a business took a shitload of work I wasn’t aware of. Advertising and planning. Scheduling and paperwork. Word-of-mouth didn’t work in the real world as well as it did in college, which was bullshit because it needed to. I wrapped up my degree and decided to put all my time into my business, but I was digging myself into more debt than I could keep track of.
By the time my business went under, I was seven months out of college and had over one hundred thousand dollar’s worth of debt to my name.
That was how I ended up working for a major publishing company. They needed an interim editor because their prior editor quit underneath all the backlash he was getting. And I couldn’t blame him. Two weeks into my new job I was ready to unplug my phone just so people from the outside world couldn’t get to me. People in my new place of work were taking bets on how long I would survive. My boss cracked jokes in my office about how many more days I had left until I stormed out of here as well.
But their teasing and criticism was fuel to my fire.
Two weeks became two months, and two months became two years. I outlived many people in that company and all of them were stunned I had stuck around. My interim position became a full-time one, with health benefits and a 401(k) to boot. My boss wanted to make sure I had everything around me to keep me there so he wouldn’t have to hire someone new. Up until I came along, the normal cycle for this position was four months. People would survive it for four months before they’d quit, which always left my boss in a pickle.
But it also left me with leverage.
I went from an interim editor to the chief editor of an imprint in a matter of two years. I went from an office in the back to an office on one of the top floors. I bargained for a massive desk, a new desktop computer, and windows to be put in so I could harvest the natural light for my reading. I negotiated that all un-agented manuscripts be sent directly to a set of readers first and I even negotiated for a part-time personal assistant, along with two assistant editors. I had dug myself out of debt, I had a beautiful view of Seattle from my office window, and I got to rewrite people’s shitty stories for a living.
To anyone looking in on me, I was living the life.
But for some reason I didn’t feel like I was.
“Reagan? Reagan, you okay?” I blinked my eyes as Nova, my best friend pulled me from my thoughts. Nova, Chloe and I, had decided to go out for drinks that evening.
“Huh? What? Sorry,” I said. “Long day.”
“More crappy books come your way?” Nova asked.
“Is that even a question anymore?” I asked.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Chloe said. “I struggle enough listening to Derek ramble on and on about his days. Or nights.”
“Isn’t Derek a D.J.?” I asked. “How the hell does that get boring?”
“Trust me, it does. Which is why I’m still stunned you’ve been with that company for as long as you have,” Chloe said.
“Going on six years,” I said.
“You’re a better woman than I am,” Nova said. “I would’ve quit after the first few phone calls.”
“I’ve turned it into a game now,” I said. “The angrier I make them with my notes on edits, the more decadent my lunch or dinner is that night.”
“Tha
t’s… insane,” Chloe said. “You’re insane.”
“Not as insane as you are. You’ve got four kids, Chloe, and you’re wanting another?” I asked.
“Five kids was what Derek and I wanted. I’m just glad we got here. After I had Abigail, I wasn’t sure if I could have another one.”
“Then you had Ralphie,” Nova said.
“Speaking of kids, how’s your little one, Nova?” Chloe asked.
“I want to hear about how our primo piece of man is,” I said with a grin.
“They’re both good,” Nova said. “I’m glad Tyson shoved me out of the house, though. It’s been awhile since I’ve been back in Seattle.”
“No one can blame you after the hell you went through with your brother,” Chloe said.
“Everett still treating you well?” I asked.
“It’s beautiful, as always.”
“I know that tone of voice,” I said. “I hear it every time you’re wondering about something. So, spit it out. What’s going on?”
“You okay, Nova?” Chloe asked.
“I’m fine. I’m good. I just… Tyson has expressed interest in something, and I’m not sure how to take it.”
“A threesome?” I asked.
“You would take it there,” Chloe said.
“No,” Nova said with a grin. “But he has talked about wanting another child.”
“Oh my gosh. Nova, that’s awesome!” Chloe said.
“You don’t look too happy about it,” I said.
“It’s not that I’m not happy. I just…”
I could tell there was something else wrong. Nova was a wonderful mother, just like Chloe. Happily married to a burly man who thought the ground she walked on was heaven itself. I loved getting together with my girls. The three of us had been buddies for a few years now. I had met Chloe at the university and the two of us had met Nova when were out one night in Seattle. But with their blossoming families, it was getting harder and harder to see them. Nova didn’t come into Seattle as much, Chloe could hardly get out with her four kids and her D.J. husband always on the road.
And when we did get out together, being around them only served to show me how far behind I had fallen in my life.
I didn’t have a husband. I didn’t have kids. And I wasn’t getting any younger. I had spent so much time trying to get a business off the ground then dig myself out of that debt that I hadn’t stopped to date. Hell, I hadn’t dated since Landon. The first guy I’d ever loved. I met him my second year of college in one of my writing classes and it had been a whirlwind sort of romance. He wrote me handwritten love letters with poems on the inside. He picked wildflowers for me and laid them in front of my apartment door whenever he could get by. He would bring me coffee in the mornings and the way we made love was sweet and decadent.
Landon was the one that got away.
“Nova, talk to us. It’s what we’re here for,” Chloe said.
“Preach. Now spit it out. You’re worrying me,” I said.
“If we have another child, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with the life we’re living,” Nova said.
“What do you mean?” Chloe asked.
“Right now, the plan is to homeschool Mariah, but I’m not sure I can homeschool two. She’s a handful and already presenting with some delays,” Nova said.
“Wait, delays?” I asked. “What do you mean ‘delays’?”
“Well, she’s two already and she doesn’t have much speech. And her eye contact isn’t the greatest either. The pediatrician’s keeping an eye on things, but right now I’m so inundated with finding a speech therapist that the idea of having another child to grow and run after just… it sounds exhausting. And I don’t know if I’m ready for it.”
“Then why don’t you tell Tyson that?” Chloe asked.
“Because I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Or regret marrying me,” Nova said.
“Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me, okay?” I asked. “That man adores you. And if this is how you’re feeling, then you don’t need to be having another child.”
“Yeah. Kid number two… and any other kid after… needs to be a firm commitment between both parents. The first kid is usually an accident. A glorious one, but an accident. But the ones that come after that? Both parents need to be ready, because it’s not to be taken lightly,” Chloe said.
“See? Right from the baby factory’s mouth,” I said with a grin.
“Talk to him,” Chloe said. “Tell him how you feel. And then call me. Ralphie went through some of the same things Mariah’s going through.”
“Really?” Nova asked. “What did you do?”
“Well, Ralphie is on the spectrum, but he’s seven now and his speech is fine. I’ve got numbers of some wonderful doctors in the Seattle area. You could come stay with me and I could go to your appointments with you. I doubt there are many doctors with this kind of expertise in Everett.”
“Or you could come stay with me if you don’t want to be surrounded by a brood of kids,” I said. “Either way, you need to talk to Tyson and you need to take care of the child you have.”
It hurt my heart to see my friend struggling like this, but I knew we were right. The last thing Nova needed to be concentrating on was making another child. But as Nova and Chloe descended into a conversation about developmentally-delayed children, I sat back and sighed. These were the kinds of conversations I couldn’t engage in. The kinds of topics I knew nothing about because I was still single. I was the only one out of the three of us who hadn’t established a life with someone, and it hurt.
Was there something wrong with me? Had I allowed my heartbreak with Landon to guide me down a wrong path? Or maybe I wasn’t looking in the right place. Maybe I was dating the wrong guys?
I didn’t know what my problem was. Had I not been such an idiot with Landon, the two of us would probably be married with kids by now. But I grew into a wild girl while Landon continued to chill out in college, and when we both graduated he left me. I blamed him for years for my heartache. Blamed him for leaving me on one of the most important days of my life. But as I grew older and thought more on it, I came to find that he made the right move for him. I wanted to go dancing and drinking and continue throwing parties, and he wanted to stay in and watch television. Or have a quiet dinner and talk.
He got away because I was unwilling to settle down alongside him, and I couldn’t blame him for that.
I grabbed my drink and sighed as the two continued to talk. My eyes scanned the bar, searching for something but finding only dark corners and couples making out in booths. Seattle was full of overly-romantic hipsters who sucked each other’s faces off and ate organic or whatever. It was yet another scene I didn’t fit into, but I’d planted roots here and I wasn’t giving them up anytime soon. I enjoyed my upper-level office and my assistants and my debt-relieved credit score.
I enjoyed all of it, even if I enjoyed none of the people that surrounded me.
My eyes cased the bar before they stopped. I studied the man sitting at the bar, his shoulders hunched and his gaze lowered into a glass of amber liquid. My skin prickled on the back of my neck as I took in his familiar form. His long features and his dark hair and his strong shoulders.
It was Landon.
Holy hell. Landon was in the bar.
I turned my chair to face him as I watched him sip from his drink. Tons of memories bombarded my mind, pulling me back into my past. Memories of how wonderful his lips felt on my neck and memories of how hard he made me laugh. I could remember our first date. How tentative he was to take my hand because he didn’t want to breach any boundaries that might’ve made me uncomfortable. He was always so considerate. Romantic in ways I craved with my life now. I smiled as I recalled all the letters he’d written me in class. Passed over to me as I read the lines of the poems he scrawled because he couldn’t get his mind off me.
Then I remembered our breakup. How easy it was for him. How angry I had been with him and how he ha
d fallen off the face of the planet afterwards. Changed his number. Moved out of his apartment. Deleted his social media accounts. It was like he was erasing himself off the face of the planet just to get away from me.
But now he was there again. In the bar, drinking.
“Reagan?”
“Hmm?” I asked.
“You okay?” Nova asked.
“You see that guy over there at the bar? Hunched over like he is?” I asked.
“Yeah? What about him?” Chloe asked.
“That’s Landon,” I said breathlessly.
“Wait, what?” Chloe asked. “You mean the guy that dumped you at graduation?”
“Wait, Landon Landon?” Nova asked. “That guy you pined over for years?”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s him. He’s here.” I nodded my head over in his direction. Nova followed my eyes and looked at him.
“No… I don’t think that’s Landon,” Nova said.
“I know it is. Look at his features.”
“You mean the dark hair and the broad shoulders? Reagan, Landon was a toothpick,” Chloe said.
“It’s been almost seven years,” I said. “People go to the gym.”
“Reagan, that’s not Landon,” Nova said.
“And how do you know?” I asked. “I met you after we already broke up.”
“You’ve shown me pictures of him. You can tell by his long legs that he’s not Landon. That guy over there is easily six feet tall. Landon was barely above you in height.”
“That’s Landon, you guys. I know it is,” I said. “I would know him anywhere.”
“Didn’t Landon have blond hair?” Chloe asked.
“Hair dye, you guys,” I said.
“Reagan, please. Now is not the time to reopen old wounds. Even if that is Landon, he’s only going to bring you more heartache,” Nova said.
“I’m going over there.”
“What?” Chloe asked.
“Are you even listening to me?” Nova asked.
“Look, if it’s not Landon, the guy’s still hot. And I don’t expect you two to understand. You have your husbands. You have your kids. You have your fairytale endings. But I’m almost thirty years old and I have nothing to show for it.”
Baby and the Biker: The Ghost Riders MC Page 1
