OUR UNLIKELY BABY

by Paula Cox

  “Why?” Miranda's eyebrows bounced up toward her hairline. Though she approved, she could see the longing in Naomi's eyes.

  “Please, Miranda. Just make them go away.” Naomi's voice tipped into pleading as she averted her gaze. “I just need some time to think.”

  Despite the flare of curiosity, Miranda nodded. Whatever thoughts churned through Naomi's mind managed to crack her carefree visage. New worries blossomed in her head. Leaning over, Miranda laid her palm over Naomi's, giving the started woman a smile. Before her friend could utter her gratitude, Miranda stood and made her way back to the waiting area.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Tyler paced the length of the dingy motel room. It was a small affair, with two single beds and threadbare carpet. The faucet in the bathroom leaked and the television always had a sheen of static under the shows. It was the only other motel near Legacy, though.

  He muttered garbled obscenities under his breath as he ran his hands through his hair. Miranda had been none too gentle about giving them the boot. Beneath the barbed anger, though, a blunt pain echoed. He tried to ignore it.

  On one of the beds, Jack slumped, elbows on his knees. He looked about ready to melt into the bed. Since they arrived at the motel, his eyes weren't focused on much of anything other than the carpet on the floor. Tyler paused as the first rumbles of words mustered their way from Jack's lips, “Maybe we should go back.”

  “Why?” The heat rose in Tyler's face and his fingers flexed. Did Jack not remember the tongue lashing Miranda gave them? He didn't want to go through that sort of scenario, again. Or maybe he didn't want to see the vivid disgust scrunching Miranda's face all over again. Tyler's stomach lurched at the very thought.

  “Well, we're back in town. Some of Pete's buddies might be hanging around,” muttered Jack. He tried to sound aloof, but there was a warble of concern under his words. “What if they put two and two together?”

  The thought sent a shiver down Tyler's spine. Irritation overwhelmed the shiver, though. If they left, that'd be better for Miranda. Yet, they needed her help. His arm swept toward the door, as if it symbolized her, and he turned to Jack. “You heard Mir. They don't want us there.”

  “Man, you hurt her and I didn't treat Naomi no better.” He shook his head and heaved a sigh. His shoulders hunched closer to his ear. The air of 'ashamed schoolboy' radiated around the massive biker. “She was texting me that whole weekend.”

  Surprise blinked through Tyler's mind, disrupting the other thoughts. He hadn't heard that part of the story before. “What?”

  “I didn't want to string her along, since we weren't gonna be staying, but I couldn't help replying. I knew it was wrong, that it put her in danger, but I couldn't help it.” Jack's hands dug into his hair as he leaned forward. His pinched expression and glassy gaze were on the edge of tears. As he slightly rocked back and forth on the bed, he croaked, “I can't help thinking I landed her in the hospital.”

  Silence filtered into the room. Tyler's mind lolled over the information. Was that why Jack was so irritated with their delayed departure? He shot a sidelong glance to Jack, wondering if his companion had harbored some innate jealousy. Tyler sighed and shook his head. It didn't matter, now.

  They were back in Legacy, Naomi was ill or hurt, and Jack wanted direly to see her. The only issue seemed to be Miranda. A flare of mixed feelings slapped Tyler across the face. He didn't even know what to think of her.

  Jack interrupted his thoughts. “What do you think we should do?”

  “I don't know,” sighed Tyler, shaking his head. “Go back in the morning, like you said?”

  “We don't even know if they'll be the–” Jack's phone buzzed, interrupting his self-defeating moment. He jumped before he registered what was shifting against his leg. He dug the vibrating plastic from his pocket and eyed the touch screen. Relief eased the strain in his body, but he didn't glance up at his companion. “It's Naomi.”

  Tyler edged closer, tempted to glance over at the phone. “Well, what does it say?”

  “She's good. She's been released, but Miranda insisted on watching over her.” The rest of the strain eased from Jack's shoulders until they no longer crushed against his ears. His thumbs danced across the screen as he wrote a reply.

  Tyler growled and crossed his arms. “Well, we won't be getting near Naomi any time soon, then.”

  “They're at Naomi's place,” replied Jack, as if that fixed their issue.

  “So? Miranda will lock that shit down.” Tyler's lips twisted into frown. He knew Miranda's stubbornness first hand. This time, maybe it was needed.

  Jack shook his head, conviction in his own words. “She has no right.”

  “Try telling her that,” Tyler snorted and rolled his eyes.

  “We will.” Jack's determination flicked to Tyler's face. A sternness in his tone hammed his intentions through the air. There was no room for an argument. Jack turned his gaze back to his phone just as it buzzed in reply. “Naomi is asking we can bring some stuff over, though.”

  “Now?” Pulling out his phone, Tyler double-checked the time. It was nearly eleven o'clock at night. Between the runaround from bank to hospital to motel - and the occasional stop for something to eat - they had nearly spent the whole day chasing the women around. Tyler couldn't help but wonder how sick Naomi really was if she were requesting food.

  “Yeah, take a look,” Jack replied, flashing the grocery list in Tyler's direction. As he read the words, a chilly suspicion climbed across his thoughts. There weren't many reasons for the slapdash list. Glancing into Jack's face, he knew the man held the same thoughts. However, Jack's features pinched and a somber seriousness marked his face.

  “Well, those things won't buy themselves,” sighed Tyler as he straightened from his hunch. He nabbed his keys and wallet from the table, not glancing over at Jack. His partner had way too much to deal with and delaying this reunion wasn't going to help any. Jack was out the door before Tyler even pocketed his keys.

  Within a few minutes, both choppers roared off on an errand.

  * * *

  Try as she might, Miranda couldn't enjoy the steaming hot shower. The steam increased, mimicking the fog of her thoughts. A potpourri of emotions simmered in her head. Shameful happiness to see Tyler, coupled with complete disdain towards him, blotted out a lot of space. The glee clenched at her lower tummy while recollections of his last visit darted across her nerves. She growled, irritated with herself, and tried to focus on washing up.

  She should be more concerned about Naomi than harboring reluctant fantasies about him. Though, there wasn't much more to worry about. The doctors released her from the hospital, completely confident she'd be fine. Currently she sat at her kitchen table, eating hastily baked chicken nuggets and sipping on milk.

  Curiosity pinged across Miranda's thoughts, though. Naomi wanted Tyler and Jack gone, so she could 'think.' So far, she hadn't shared her musings with Miranda. Maybe they weren't all that important or she was simply shocked at their sudden arrival.

  Faintly, Miranda wondered if there was more to Naomi's feelings for Jack than she was saying. Dual comfort and concern lit up at the very thought. She wouldn't be alone fawning over a seemingly unrequited love. But, Naomi would suffer. She wasn't used to feeling like that, was she?

  Miranda went through the motions of finishing up her shower. She forced her mind into autopilot, washing her distracting thoughts away. When she was dry enough, she wrapped the towel tightly around her frame and stepped into the hallway. Padding toward the kitchen, she started to loudly speak to Naomi, “We should order in and watch one of those horrible B-movies you lov–”

  Three sets of eyes turned toward Miranda. Her face flushed as she registered Jack and Tyler's presence. Her grip on the towel tightened while her stomach flipped. Shameful delight and mortification shifted through her thoughts. Heat snaked across her face and down her body.

  Her gaze wandered to Naomi. Irritation flared, recognizing the hidden smile b
ehind her friend's hand. Through her puckered lips, Miranda muttered, “I wasn't aware we were having anyone over. Excuse me.”

  Before anyone could say anything, she stormed down the hallway to the single bedroom. Miranda's thoughts were exploding with frustration and embarrassment. Her knuckles turned white from her death grip on the towel. Once over the threshold of the bedroom, she slammed the door shut. The vibrations rattled through the walls of the whole apartment, dislodging dust from the ceiling.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  In the kitchen, awkward silence descended like the dust floating down from the ceiling. Tyler shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to swallow the urge to follow after Miranda. He shot the other two a glance. Naomi – still seated at the kitchen table - stared at Miranda's last spot in the hallway. Her expression seemed to wobble between exasperation and concern.

  Unable to handle the pressure, Jack raised his plastic bag laden arms. The bags rattled with his movement, gaining Naomi's attention. “Here's the food.”

  “Ooh,” she cooed clapping her hands together with exaggerated joy, “Did you make sure to get the chocolate and mustard?”

  Jack grinned, “And then some.”

  “We also picked up some beer.” Tyler grinned, holding up the box that held the cans. He tore the side of the box and coaxed out a beer. Turning to Naomi, he waggled his treat, “Want one?”

  “Um,” her gaze flickered to the beer and, then, to the floor. She seemed to struggle with an internal debate. With her gaze averted, he threw a curious glance to Jack. After a much-too-long pause, she turned her gaze to Tyler, then to Jack. There seemed to be a worry glinting in her blue eyes as a half-smile quirked her lips upward. “No, not after today. I think I'll hold off.”

  A bell went off in Tyler's head. His suspicion was beginning to solidify. “You sure?”

  “Positive,” she said, a grateful smile twitched at her lips. Mild annoyance peppered her tone, though.

  A creak whined down the hall as a door opened. Tyler's eyes darted to the entryway, waiting with bated breath. Miranda reemerged, dressed in a tank top, low-slung yoga pants, and flip-flops. The blush hadn't left her features, and neither had her sour expression. Her gaze lit on Naomi.

  “We'll go put the groceries away,” sputtered Jack, heaving the bags toward the cabinets. He and Tyler beat a hasty retreat to the farthest reach of the kitchen.

  Miranda sidled up to her friend, watching the men fumble with some groceries. She leered at the food, wondering if that had been what gained them entry into her friend's apartment. “So, what are these two doing here?”

  “I texted them,” Naomi replied, breezily.

  “What?” Miranda's gaze shot to the blonde's face, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

  The blonde shrugged, still watching as the men bumbled about her kitchen. She seemed intent on avoiding Miranda's gaze. “They were worried about me.”

  “What about time to think?” Miranda hissed, crossing her arms. Irritated fires dotted across her thoughts. Why had she made such a big deal about them at the hospital? Agitation clawed at Miranda's chest. She didn't like this one bit.

  “I did think and I wanted to see them, Miranda.” Naomi finally shot her friend a look. Her fingers tapped against the tabletop, playing a tattoo of irritation.

  Her handle lost on the situation, Miranda couldn't help her venom-saturated reply. “Well, thanks for the heads up.”

  “Thanks for acting like an adult about this,” countered Naomi, her voice dropping low. It didn't matter how soft her voice became, though. Jack and Tyler were listening in and they could feel the atmosphere whip with electric anger.

  Miranda's face bled red again. She jerked back under Naomi's words, hurt and enraged. What the hell was she thinking? First she wanted the men gone; then she invited them over. Naomi knew how Tyler affected her! Miranda turned sharply, storming from the kitchen. Before she could cross the threshold, Naomi jumped off her chair. “Where are you going?”

  “If you want the biker brigade,” snapped Miranda, half-turning in the entryway, “then there's no reason for me to stay!”

  “Fine!” Naomi scream followed her down the hall, ballooning behind her. The words pressed into Miranda's back, rushing her as she gathered up her overnight bag.

  She cursed to herself under her breath, tears burning at the back of her eyes. The situation wobbled out of control and Miranda couldn't understand why. Naomi was a good friend. Why would she blind-side her? Pain throbbed through her chest and sunk into her thoughts. This wasn't fair.

  A small voice chimed in her head, under the slew of sadness and frustration. It chirped about her own failings, her own misgivings. Her inability to face Tyler was her own fault, not Naomi's. That didn't make the pain lessen.

  Within moments, Miranda careened out of the apartment, bag on her shoulder. The door slammed shut behind her, making the glasses in the cabinet rattle and clink. Naomi glared at her from her spot in the kitchen, feet planted and hands curled into fists at her sides.

  Jack scuttled closer to the blonde. His big palm patted her shoulder. “Uh, everything okay?”

  She turned to face him, her demeanor crumbling. Her scowl melted into a wobbling frown as tears brimmed in her eyes. She threw herself into Jack's arms, heaving sobs wracked through her body. Over the blonde head, he exchanged a wide-eyed, helpless look with Tyler.

  “I'm going to go check on Mir,” he announced. “Take care of Naomi.”

  “Wait, Tyler!”

  Jack's fretful yelp cut short as the door slammed shut behind Tyler. His pounding feet matched his thrumming heartbeat. Echoing footfalls, farther below and ahead of him, indicated exactly where Miranda was. The clank of the metal door as she left the building resounded after her. Tyler sighed, hoping she'd return to her apartment. Otherwise, he wasn't sure how to catch up with her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The door ricocheted against the wall, hinges and doorknob rattling from the force of Miranda's entry. She stormed into her living room and yanked off her bag. Letting out a shriek, she savagely slammed her overnight bag into the couch.

  What was Naomi thinking? She was erratic and unpredictable at times, but this really took the cake!

  A small voice tittered at the back of Miranda's thoughts. This wasn't about Naomi. This was about her and her inability to handle Tyler like an adult. Her friends and family agreed. That's why a wedge slammed down between the couple and Tyler rode off into the sunset.

  Plus, this meant that Naomi harbored no resentment to Jack for leaving her in his dust. She wasn't a fellow broken heart in this whole scheme. Miranda growled as pain flickered through her chest and flexed her fingers. She stopped, realizing what she was doing, and paused. Heaving a sigh, she ran her hands through her hair, keeping her fingers busy in a reasonable sort of way. She had to get a handle on herself.

  Knuckles rapped against her door. Irritation instantly lit across her thoughts thinking it was the last person she wanted to see. She stormed over to the door, flinging it open without looking out the peephole.

  “What the hell do you wa–” Miranda's eyes widened and her angry exclamation coming to a full stop when her palm slapped over her mouth. Her face flared with a blush as her brain registered Tyler wasn't on the other side of the door. Her hand drifted away from her lips and she squeaked, “I'm so sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

  The stranger stood a few inches taller than her, with a gleaming bald head, and unwavering smile perched beneath a pair of sunglasses. He wore a leather vest over a white t-shirt with jeans. 'Blue collar' flickered across Miranda's thoughts. At the back of her mind, wariness puttered about. Who wore sunglasses indoors or so late at night?

  “Not a problem, miss. I'm sure whoever they are, they deserve the tongue-lashin'.” The man's smile flickered with a congenial twitch. His hidden eyes put Miranda on edge.

  Somehow, she doubted the smile reached his eyes. He took a step closer, invading Miranda's perso
nal space. She yelped, her feet skittering away, but he caught her by the elbow. Something hard and cold pressed against her side and her mind hiccupped. Was that a gun?

  The stranger leaned in close, lips against Miranda's ear. The scent of cigarettes and whiskey clung to his breath. His grip flexed around her elbow, pain cracked across her nerves. “Now, don't be a problem child, miss. We just need you ta' get Ferguson's attention.”

  “Ferguson?” Her eyes widened, her breath locked in her lungs. What was he talking about? Ferguson? Realization ticked across her brain. Tyler! A shiver coiled down her limbs.

  “Now, don't you make a peep, all right?” The man's hot breath streaked across her ear. Her stomach knotted and soured. Trembles overtook her limbs, but the man leaned away. Her eyes darted down, catching sight of the gun's shiny black muzzle. He tugged her from the apartment, leading her jelly-filled legs.