DON’T TOUCH MY BABY: Ricci Family Mafia

by Zoey Parker

  “Yeah, I can tell that too.” She sniffed, finding more tears in her eyes as she reached out to grab his hand. She intertwined their fingers. “But Baylor…”

  A slow grin crept across his face.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “I like it when you call me that.”

  She laughed, wiping away a tear. “But it’s your name.”

  “I know. But nobody ever got the privilege of using it.”

  Except me. She sniffed again. “What if the baby doesn’t make it?”

  His face fell. “That’s not what we need to be thinking about right now, Peach.”

  “But you saw him, you saw what he was doing to me, how violent he was being. The stress alone could have terminated this pregnancy. And then when he fell on top of me—”

  Bastard rose up, interrupting her mid-sentence with a kiss. They locked lips so long that her mouth went numb. When he pulled back, a different sort of haze had descended over her.

  “Oh, is that your remedy?” She laughed despite her irritation. “Kiss away the worries?”

  “Not a bad approach, right?” He looked too pleased with himself. “But seriously, babe, don’t drive yourself crazy with this shit. The doctor will be here any minute. We’re gonna find out. I swear to you.”

  As if on cue, a light rapping sounded at the door. Bastard grinned up at her, then pressed another kiss to her lips. “See?”

  The door swung open a moment later and Bastard scooted his chair back into place. A tall, gray-haired man stepped into the room. His lips were thin and taut, a laptop in his arms.

  “Good evening.” He eased onto a round stool at the far end of the room, setting his laptop down. He rolled over to them, offering a hand to each. “I’m Dr. Linden.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Kit shook his hand. “I’m Kit, and this is my boyfriend Baylor.”

  She could only imagine what Bastard’s reaction was on the inside. He betrayed no emotion as he shook hands with the doctor. When the doctor leaned forward to peer around at the back of his cut, Bastard’s face fell.

  “Is this…” The doctor plopped back into his seat. “Are you in one of those biker gangs?”

  Bastard’s face went pale. Kit swallowed a giggle. “No, sir. I mean, it’s a club. We love motorcycles.” He swallowed. “Does this interfere with Kit being taken care of?”

  “Oh, no. Of course not.” The doctor seemed undisturbed as he rolled away to face Kit head on. “I was just curious.”

  Bastard nodded, relaxing into his seat. “Okay.”

  Dr. Linden slapped his knees. “So, what’s the issue today?”

  “I was involved in an…altercation.” Kit paused, wondering how much detail she should really give. “And I recently found out I was pregnant. Someone pushed me pretty hard, and I’m just so worried that something might have happened to the baby. I haven’t even seen a doctor yet for the pregnancy. It’s still early. I just…” she trailed off, desperation consuming her again. In a small voice, barely able to speak above a whisper, she added, “I just need to make sure the pregnancy is okay.”

  Dr. Linden nodded, his gray gaze solid on her. “Of course. We’ll do everything we can to make sure.” The next bit involved a lot of medical stuff Kit more or less understood. He explained about a kind of ultrasound that, when he showed her the wand, looked a lot more like a dildo than a camera. She’d thought maybe they’d be able to do the type she always saw on TV, but since she was still so newly pregnant, he said they’d have a better chance of seeing things well with this. And all Kit wanted in the world was to be sure the life growing inside of her was okay. Kit glanced over at Bastard. His face was wrought with concern, but the second he noticed her watching it morphed into something softer.

  He squeezed her arm while the doctor left the room to find a nurse. “Everything sound good, Peach?”

  Kit stared at him, sideswiped by a sudden rush of emotion, getting lost in the earthy depths of his eyes. Fuck, who was she kidding? This man was here to stay. This man was hers.

  All she could do was lean forward and throw her arms around him, unleashing a sob that seemed to originate from the depths of her being.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Kit wrapped her arms around Bastard as they zoomed through the heavy night air, pressing her forehead to his back. Her laughter got lost in the rush of wind; her tears dried almost instantly.

  It was a good day to be alive.

  Her baby had a heartbeat.

  She and Bastard had both stumbled out of the hospital grinning like idiots. She’d never imagined that Bastard’s eyes could glaze over with tears. But she’d seen it happen, right in front of her.

  The bike kicked back as Bastard shifted into down gear, pulling into the parking lot of a little diner. The good news had been almost too good. Neither was ready to call it a night yet. There were things to discuss. Details to figure out.

  Plans to be made.

  Kit slid off the bike on shaky feet, adrenaline still coursing through her. There’s a living being inside of you. It still seemed crazy. Sure, she’d gotten the positive pregnancy test, but hearing proof? That was a whole different level.

  Bastard tugged his helmet off, stowing it with Kit’s on the back of the bike. He wrapped his hand around hers. They shared a long look before heading into the diner.

  It was almost five a.m. The sun would be rising soon, and the bulk of LA would start making its rounds through the city. But for now, they still had a few precious moments of darkness to thrive in. When the crowds were thin, when the noises of life were softer, when the future seemed something malleable that they could shape entirely on their own.

  A hostess led them to a small table along the back wall. Once they sat down, Bastard immediately reached for her hands.

  “I still can’t believe it.” His lips were curved up in a boyish grin, almost shy. “I’ve never heard anything like that before.”

  “Me neither.” She searched his face, relishing this joy, the unadulterated excitement coursing through her. The split seconds without worrying the details or questioning the future. Those sparse moments where the enormity of the happiness ballooned inside her, overcoming anything in its path.

  “We’re gonna be parents,” Bastard said.

  She laughed, throwing her head back. “I know.”

  A long silence settled between them, pleasant and warm. A waitress came up and tried to take their order.

  “Shit, I haven’t even looked yet.” Kit laughed, retracting her hands from Bastard’s warm embrace. They opened up their menus, taking a quick glance. When her belly rumbled she realized she should get food, despite the late hour. She asked for hash browns and orange juice; Bastard got an omelet with home fries.

  When the waitress left with their menus, Bastard reached for her hands again.

  “You’re never gonna let me go, huh?”

  “Didn’t plan on it.” Bastard winked.

  “Gonna be hard to get your work done with the club then,” she teased.

  “That’s all right. I’ll bring you with me when I can.”

  She scoffed. “No, thanks. I’ll pass on going back there.”

  Bastard’s face fell. “Yeah…I wanted to talk to you about that.”

  Curiosity prickled through her, followed by the warm spread of impending disappointment. The truth was slowly elbowing its way back in: this couldn’t work. It wouldn’t work, not when he was in the Damned Devils.

  “I found out who said shit to you,” Bastard said, his gaze dropping to the table. “It’s never gonna happen again.”

  Kit swallowed hard. “What, did you talk to them?”

  “Yeah.” Bastard worked his jaw back and forth. “They want to meet you.”

  “They already did.” Her belly flopped. “Well, sorta.”

  “They were rude jerks to you, but you didn’t meet them.” Bastard ran his thumbs over her knuckles, sighing. “I’m not saying all my brothers are saints. But they’re decent guys. Some way
more than others. I told them what’s up, and they feel like shit. They want to make it right.”

  Kit smirked. “You ‘told them what’s up’? And what was that?”

  Bastard shrugged. “That you’re carrying my kid, and we’re together and stuff.”

  She clucked her tongue, unable to fight the smile. “Together, huh?’

  He squeezed her hands. “This feels pretty together to me, don’t it?”

  Kit let the words settle deeply inside her before continuing. “Well…I dunno. I guess I could go for a redo with your brothers. If they’re insisting.”

  “I’m not gonna have you hating these guys,” Bastard said. “They’re the only family I’ve got.”

  Kit stilled her tongue before adding, But you have me now, and the baby. “Okay. Well I guess that answers my other question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If you’re gonna stay in the club or not.”

  Bastard hefted with a laugh, his nervous gaze dancing over her face. “Peach, I’m gonna die in that club. There’s no other way for me.”

  She nodded, studying the contrast of her hands in his: smooth and small against big and rough. There was something sweet about it. She wanted to take a picture of it, or somehow preserve it.

  “Is that okay?”

  She smiled, yanking her gaze up to meet his. “I’m honored you would even ask for my opinion on that. And yeah, I get it. I would never ask you to leave something like that behind. I mean, it’s not my lifestyle…but…I can’t ask you to just drop it like that.”

  “Like I would never ask you to quit singing,” he added.

  Her voice shriveled for a second, as if the mere suggestion had shocked her vocal chords. “Exactly. I could never give that up.” After a few moments she said, “God, we sound like we’re getting ready to get married.”

  “Well, aren’t we?” Bastard laughed. “A kid is as good as marriage these days.”

  Kit leaned back into her seat as the waitress returned with two steaming plates of food. She eyed him, his eyes twinkling, neither of them even looking at the waitress when she asked if they needed anything else. She couldn’t rip her eyes off this man.

  “You better not be all talk,” she said with a sigh, unrolling her silverware from its napkin. “I swear to God, if you pull another disappearing act…”

  “That shit is over.” He rested his forearm on the table as he poked at his omelet. “Not gonna lie Kit, that was my MO with ladies. Maybe it sounds bad—”

  “Yeah, it does,” she interjected.

  “—but it’s the truth,” he finished. He stuffed a couple of bites of egg into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, and then added, “You’re the only one I’ve come back to. I know I told you already. But it’s fucking true.”

  “Why’d you do it, then?”

  “Because I had to.”

  Kit squirted ketchup onto her plate, and it made a loud farting noise that made both of them laugh. “Yeah, you knew you couldn’t pass this up.”

  The two ate for a few moments, smiles lingering on their faces, until Bastard spoke. “I don’t know shit about being a dad. I never had one.”

  “That’s okay. Surprisingly, you don’t have to know anything about raising kids in order to have one,” Kit cracked before stuffing more hash browns into her mouth. “But there are ways to learn.”

  “I just wanna do right by this kid,” Bastard said. “Give him what I never got.”

  “Or her,” Kit corrected.

  Bastard laughed, scratching at his jaw. “Yeah, if it’s a girl, we’re gonna have a real problem.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Not gonna be able to let her do shit until she’d twenty five,” he muttered, stabbing at what remained of his omelet.

  “Oh, why’s that?” Kit leaned forward, sauciness licking through her. “Because you know how shitty men really are to women?”

  Bastard rubbed at his head, looking at her with an earnestness that almost cracked her in two. “Yeah. That shit’s gotta change.”

  Kit settled back into her seat, pleased. “Sure as shit it does.” She sipped at her orange juice, suddenly more sure about this than she’d ever dared allowed herself dream. It didn’t matter if they were new to this, or had bad role models, or fucked up along the way.

  Two solid people, doing the best they could. That would be enough.

  ***

  Bastard ran his hands over Kit’s hips as she dug her keys out of her bag. After a filling breakfast and catching the sunrise on the way to her place, it seemed like life had taken a total one eighty in the span of twelve hours.

  She pushed the door open, revealing a small studio apartment. Inside there was a queen bed, and a mostly empty bookcase, and that was about it. He looked around, nodding.

  “This will be perfect,” he said.

  She looked over her shoulder at him as she dropped her duffel bag along the far wall. “What do you mean?”

  “For now.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, inspecting the walls, looking around at the bay window, the bathroom door. “It’s a great place for you. And hopefully for me.”

  She cracked a grin. “You wanna move in to my three hundred square feet of paradise?”

  “If you’ll have me.” He strutted toward her while she tugged her sweatshirt off, revealing a loose tank top beneath. She had no bra on, and her nipples were two tight points beneath the shirt.

  “Gonna have to move around a lot of my stuff to make room for you.” She gestured around the bare apartment. “As you can see, I’m full up.”

  He snagged her at the waist, sliding his hands beneath the fabric of her shirt. The warmth of her skin under the shirt was like a tonic. A shiver spread through him. “I can help you make room.”

  “I dunno.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, looking up at him with amusement. His heart twisted strangely. “I’ve seen your room at the clubhouse. You might have way too much stuff to be able to fit in here.”

  He bit back a laugh. He had nothing, and she knew it. “Yeah, you’re right. So I know what we should do. Let’s get rid of all our shit and start buying new shit together.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Do you mean a trip to Ikea?”

  “I’ll go wherever you want, Peach.” He pressed his lips to hers. “You call the shots.”

  “All right.” She nuzzled her nose against his. “I’m in. You can move in tomorrow.”

  He laughed, sweeping her up into his arms. “What about today?”

  She squealed, clutching onto him, kicking her legs as he carried her toward the bed. “Yeah, I think today will be fine too. Consider yourself ‘home’.”

  He tossed her lightly onto the bed, enjoying the bounce of her breasts as she spread out. He tugged her sweat pants off slowly, never breaking eye contact with her. He was hungry for her, might always be hungry for her, but he didn’t want to rush it. Not after the night they’d had.

  “I think it’s time to tuck you into bed.”

  She pouted exaggeratedly. “Don’t I get a goodnight kiss?”

  “Of course.” He crawled onto the bed over top of her, his knees indenting the puffy comforter. She ran her hands over his black shirt, hands disappearing under the lines of his cut as she rubbed his chest.

  “And what about a goodnight…fuck?” Her bottom lip jutted out as she said the word ‘fuck’, her gaze turning sultry. Bastard couldn’t fight the smile.

  “Hmmm.” He pushed off the bed, making quick work of his pants. “Yeah, I think I can handle that too.”

  Kit smiled when his jeans crumpled to the ground. He stepped out of them, sliding his cut off, laying it gently over his pants. After he tore his shirt off, he found her tugging off her tank top, those luscious breasts spilling out to greet him. He made a small noise, climbing back on top of her. If this was what a relationship looked like, he could give it a try. She was the only one he’d ever wanted to give a shot with, even before he knew about the baby.

  The thought hung
in the back of his mind as he devoured her with kisses, dragging his lips up over her rib cage, nipping at the underside of her neck, taking long draws of the scent that was so uniquely hers and might never fully leave his mind. She’d stained him, like a rich varnish over naked wood. Kit had the power to make him shine.

  Within seconds his cock was full mast, nudging between her legs, seeking that velvety heat that haunted him. Her legs splayed open, welcoming him, only a scrap of fabric separating his greedy cock from her entrance.