by Sophia Gray
“I don’t have a temper,” she admonished.
“Did you date that prick?” he asked, jerking a thumb out the window where they could see Max climbing into his beige Honda.
She sighed and grabbed her purse. “I really do need to get back.”
Digging his wallet out of his back pocket, he pulled out the cash for the bill. “You pissed because I stopped him from bothering you?”
“No. I’m pissed…” She took a deep breath. “I’m not pissed. I mean, you just stepped in like some Neanderthal protecting his territory!”
Lucas leaned across the table before she could scoot her little ass out of the booth. “You’re sitting here with me.”
“Oh, for…never mind. It doesn’t matter.” She rolled her eyes and moved out of the booth. He waved to their waitress, signaling the cash was on the table, then cupped Josephine’s elbow and led her out of the diner.
“How are you feeling?” he asked when he handed her the helmet.
“Fine. It’s fine. You can’t help yourself.”
The hairs on the back of his neck started to stand at attention. Her attitude was starting to piss him off. “What can’t I help? Making sure some other fucker doesn’t come over to my table when I’m having breakfast with my girl and start shit with her? That asshole was being disrespectful, acting like you owed him something.” Maybe she hadn’t noticed it in his tone, but Lucas picked up on it well enough. Max wasn’t someone who walked away when he wanted something he couldn’t have. He was someone who would take it if need be, and he had his eye on Josephine.
“I’m not your girl,” was the only response she gave, though he could tell she was trying to come up with something better.
“What?” He turned his head to the side so he could hear her better.
“I’m not your girl. I mean, not really, not at all.” She started fidgeting with her purse strap.
“Until you get off my bike at that hospital, you sure as hell are.” Her slight wince told him his tone had been sharper than he intended. Why he felt so protective, so bound to this woman he’d known less than twenty-four hours baffled him, but there it was all the same. “Now. How are you feeling? You know, like, physically.” He waved a hand in the general direction of her stomach.
“Good. I feel good.” The irritation in her eyes vanished, and she smiled. “Even if it worked, I wouldn’t feel anything for a while. You don’t have to worry. I’m sure it doesn’t work the first time, and even if it did, I meant what I said. I won’t bother you for anything.”
Why did the idea of her walking off with his kid in her belly bother him so much? When she’d made the offer the day before, he’d just seen a free night of pussy with no worries of the after effects. But now, looking at her slipping the helmet on her head and tucking her hair into place, how the fuck was he going to let her get off the bike and never see her again?
“If you do, though, if you need something—”
“I won’t. That was our deal,” she reminded him, moving her purse strap to cross over her chest. The strap nestled between her breasts, and he shook his head.
“Why didn’t you ask that Max guy?” He pulled out his helmet and snapped the chinstrap in place.
“Max is a friend. We went to dinner a few times, that’s it. I had no interest in him then or now.”
“You didn’t sleep with him?” He ran his thumb over her cheek. “You’re blushing.” He accused. “You sleep with all your friends?”
Her eyes narrowed, and the heat was back in them. “I slept with him once and broke it off with him a few days later. We had nothing in common.” She didn’t wait for him to speak, just jumped on the bike. “Are you ready yet?”
He nodded, not sure what else to say or where to take the conversation. She was right. She wasn’t his girl, at least not after today. This was a one time, one night thing. She wasn’t going to cling to him the way the other chicks at the club did. She wouldn’t be popping up at the diner looking for him or stopping at the garage to see if he wanted to grab lunch and have a quickie in the storage closet. No, he’d pull up to the hospital, let her off, and never see her again.
Her arms circled his waist, and she held on tight as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the end of their road. He let himself think of the girls back at the clubhouse. They wanted him, were always looking out for any sign that he was interested in them, and he wanted nothing more than a quick fuck from them. Then there was Josephine, who was nothing like those girls—nothing at all. She was totally on the straight and narrow. He couldn’t imagine her sitting at the clubhouse on a night of a celebration for a clean run or new deal gone right. She wasn’t that type, and she obviously had some issues with his club, not like other women who looked at his kutte with some disgust and worry. No, her concern was more cautionary. She’d been hurt before, he had no doubt about that. And she’d never been with a man who could satisfy her; he knew that firsthand. He couldn’t imagine having sex with a woman and leaving her unfulfilled. What kind of asshat would do that? Well, he could name a few. Not all of his brothers were as concerned with the girl beneath them as he was.
The hospital entrance was vacant when he rolled up to it. He parked the bike and helped her off, taking her helmet off of her. She quickly ran her fingers through her hair to put it all back in place. “So, uh, ‘thanks’ doesn’t really seem the right word.” She laughed. A soft sound that was carried away by the chilly breeze.
“Give me your phone.” He held out his hand.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.” He couldn’t help it; that was his honest answer. When he told someone to do something, they did it. They didn’t pause to ask him why.
She sighed but dug out the phone from her purse.
He quickly programmed his phone number into the contacts and handed it back to her. “There. Now if you need me, you can get a hold of me.”
“I already told you, I promised—”
He put two fingers over her lips to stop her. “I said, if you need me, you can get a hold of me. I don’t care what you said yesterday. I’m telling you now, if you need me, even if it’s to pick up some milk from the store, you call me. Got it?”
She nodded but didn’t pull away from his fingers.
He moved his hand, cupping her cheek and placed a soft kiss to her lips. “If I find out you needed something and didn’t call, I’ll blister your ass with my hand, babe. That’s my promise.” Before she could register what he said, he pressed his lips to hers again—hard, unyielding. His hand slid from her cheek, to behind her neck, and into her hair. The little tug he gave elicited a moan from her, and he knew if he slid his hand down her jeans, he’d feel her wetness gain. The girl looked soft, but she wanted everything but when it came to him. She wanted his strength, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
When he broke the kiss, she touched her lips, a gentle smile hidden behind her fingers. “Okay, Lucas. I get it. Call you if I need something.” Before he could say anything else, she turned and jogged into the hospital.
And just like that she was gone.
Chapter 6
Three Months Later
“I don’t understand! If she gets a referral, then it’s covered, so why can’t she get a referral?” Josephine made every attempt to keep her temper in check while she talked to the customer service department at her mother’s insurance provider.
“Ma’am, the specialist you want her to see is out-of-network, and since we have physicians in-network who provide the same services, we can’t authorize the visit with the out-of-network physician. It’s all spelled out in her plan book.”
Josephine counted to ten in her head and took another deep breath. All the calm breathing was starting to make her dizzy. “The doctor in her plan doesn’t perform the procedure that this specialist does. That’s the issue!”
“I’m sorry, but since she can see an oncologist within her plan, we can’t refer her out.”
“You’re sorry? My mothe
r needs this surgery in order to save her life, but the doctor in your stupid network is still in training for the procedure, and you’re sorry?” It was rare for Josephine to lose her cool, but she’d been on the phone for hours trying to make people at the HMO understand what seemed like a simple issue to her.
“Okay,” the woman on the phone sighed, most likely as irritated with the conversation as Josephine was. “Here’s what we can do. We do a peer-to-peer review, which means the specialist you want her to see will have to speak to the physician here on staff to go over the procedure you’re talking about. If our physician agrees and the oncologist we have in network does not perform that procedure, we can give you an out-of-network referral. However, with the referral, the benefits will be different. Because he is out-of-network, the procedure and any services provided by him will only be covered at seventy percent, which means she will need to pay the remaining thirty percent out-of-pocket.”
A wave of relief washed through Josephine. “Okay, let’s do that.” Finally, some hope. The past three months had been hell on her mother. The chemo was making her sicker than a dog, the radiation made it worse, and, after the last round of tests, it was determined the tumor wasn’t responding the way the doctors had hoped. Her best option was to work with Dr. Leopold and his Gamma Knife treatment.
“Okay, here’s the number the doctor needs to call and the reference number he’ll need.”
Josephine jotted down the information and ended the call. She leaned back against the chair in her mom’s hospital room. She spent the last two days at the hospital since her mother had been so ill from the treatment.
Her own stomach started to twist, and the familiar wave of nausea hit her fast. She ran to the bathroom just in time to lose her breakfast. After washing her face and rinsing out her mouth, she looked at herself in the mirror. With disheveled hair and dark rings around her eyes, she looked awesome. Laughing at herself, she went back to her chair to wait for her mother to return from her MRI.
The door to the room was open, so she watched the people walk by. Two men wearing black leather vests with patches she recognized sauntered by, and her heart stopped cold. Lucas. The man hadn’t been far from her mind over the past three months. Every time she heard the rumbling of an engine, he flooded her mind.
They’d only spent one night together. Just sex—that’s what she had promised herself. But it had been anything but. The man was impossibly arrogant. He was a member of a bike club, and he was totally of limits to her. She worked a respectable job, had a mother to take care of, and in six months, a baby, too. She placed a hand on her belly. Not completely flat anymore but not rounded yet either, she could feel the evidence of their night together growing in her belly.
More times than she’d like to admit, she pulled up his contact information in her phone and stared at it. Just a little swipe of her finger and she’d be able to hear his voice, could talk to him. And tell him what? Her mother’s care was costing a fortune that she had no way to pay? That if it weren’t for her own insurance being so damn good, she wouldn’t be able to afford the prenatal care for the baby. That she considered herself a moron for pushing for a baby before taking a look at what the cost of her mother’s treatment was going to be? She’d told him no strings. She had been clear on that, promised him that she’d never ask him for anything. And she was going to stick to that promise.
“Hey!” Her mother’s soft voice tore her from her thoughts.
“Mom.” Josephine jumped from her chair and watched her mom’s bed being wheeled back in place. The nurses checked all the monitors and IVs and left them. “How’d it go?”
“Fine. They stuck me in a tube and left me there for an hour. I think I slept.” She smiled, but it was a paper-thin smile. Everything about her mom was thin. She’d lost too much weight; her hair didn’t make it past the first round of chemo. The once vibrant blue eyes had been replaced with somber gray tones.
“You hungry?”
“Nah.” She waved a hand through the air, then closed her eyes for a moment.
“You want to sleep?”
“No.” Her eyes flew open. “I want you to tell me how you’re feeling.” She poked a frail finger into Josephine’s belly. “How’s that baby treating you?”
“Still kicking out anything I eat.” Josephine gave a little laugh. When she told her mom about the baby, she had been worried she’d be upset. Without a husband or even a boyfriend, it wasn’t exactly the traditional thing to do. But her mom had been thrilled.
“That’ll last a few more weeks, then you’ll be okay.” Her hand fell to her side, and she closed her eyes again. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so tired.”
“No, Mom. It’s fine. I have to get some groceries and wash my scrubs for work tomorrow. I’ll check back in this afternoon, okay? Maybe after dinner?”
“Of course. Go. You can wait ’til tomorrow to come back, baby. You don’t have to spend your whole time in here with me.”
“After dinner,” Josephine insisted and gave her mom a kiss on the forehead before she headed out.
As she headed toward the elevator, she saw the same two men who’d walked past her mom’s room standing outside a room a few doors down. Taking a moment to check their patches, she confirmed what she already knew. They were in Lucas’s club.
“They’re bringing him up now. No, he’s fine, just needed a few stitches. I don’t know, overnight observation or some shit. Got hit in the head.” One of the men was talking on his cell phone and not being very quiet about it either. She walked past, keeping her head down to avoid their eyes as best she could. They wouldn’t know who she was even if she introduced herself to them but no need to test the waters.
The elevator doors slid open just as she reached the call button, and a bed was pushed out. She stepped to the side to give them room, and her eyes swept over the patient in the bed.
Lucas.
A thick bandage wrapped around his head, and she could see bruising and scrapes on his chin. His eyes caught hers, but she looked away, diving into the elevator as soon as the carriage was empty. He raised his hand into the air. Did he call her? What did he say? His friends were around the bed, and he was still gesturing toward her. She slammed her hand into the elevator buttons to make the doors close, to get her out of there.
He was hurt. Dangerous. She’d made the right decision. Stay away from him.
But was he okay?
# # #
The pain in Lucas’s head woke him. The memory of seeing Josephine recognize him and hide when he’d been wheeled past her kept him awake.
For three months, he’d forced himself to keep her from his mind. Almost daily, he cursed himself for not getting her phone number. He’d given her his, putting all the control into her hands. It didn’t sit well with him. Control was what kept him going, kept him sharp.
Once he was settled in his room, he told Trevor, the prospect in charge of hanging outside his door until he was released in the morning, to find out what room her mother was in. He couldn’t remember the name, but that was his problem to figure it out.
Her mother was either still in the hospital or back in. Either way, people who weren’t seriously ill didn’t spend so much time in the hospital. And was she carrying his baby? He hadn’t been able to get a good look at her, other than to realize who she was. The fucking pain meds they’d forced on him in the ER made him too groggy for anything more.
Realizing he would be getting another chance to see her, he almost forgave the fucking prick who jumped him. Jeff’s wounds had healed, but the club didn’t stop looking for the assholes who shot him. Being the captain, it was up Lucas to dispense any sort of justice that was called for.
Except on his way to the bar where the Iron Rebels hung out, two of them jumped out of an alley. Lucas and two members took them on, but he hadn’t seen the fucking knife. One jab to his side had him stumbling, and a well-placed kick to his ribs had him falling. If it weren’t for the fucking truck parked in that alley,
he wouldn’t have hit his damn head on the bumper, and he wouldn’t have lost consciousness. Lance and Jason were fine, a few scrapes, but they gave better than they got. The prick who stabbed him ran off, according to them, as soon as he saw his name and rank on his kutte. He nearly pissed himself and ran off. Pussy.
But he’d been able to see Josephine. To make sure she was doing okay. He spent the rest of the nigh drifting in and out of sleep. He’d had a dream, at one point, of Josephine cradling a blanket in her arms, rocking in a chair on the porch of his cabin. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail, and her face lit up when she saw him walk out onto the porch, until he reached for her. Then she shot out of the chair and ran down the steps, yelling at him to get away, telling him that he didn’t care about the baby, that he would never care about the baby. He kept trying to get to her, to reach for the baby in her arms, telling her she wasn’t right. He wanted the baby. He wanted her. But every step he took toward her, she retreated another. It went on like that until a beeping from one of the machines in the room woke him.
