After Burn

by Autumn Jones Lake

  “What are you sorry for?”

  “I know you have a lot to do today.”

  “Yeah, and making sure my wife’s okay is at the top of the list.”

  I reach out and take his hand. “I think this helped.” I gesture to the half-eaten toast. “I feel a little better.”

  “All right.” He seems reluctant to leave my side. “Well, finish that and see how you feel.”

  “Go ahead. Get ready. I’ll be fine.” I’m starting to feel better and a little foolish for being so dramatic.

  With my stomach more settled, I lean back and close my eyes for a few minutes.

  “Hope?” Rock’s hushed voice pulls me from sleep. “I’m heading out. I’m gonna ask Heidi to check on you in a little bit.”

  My eyes blink open. “What? No. That’s okay.”

  He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Text me when you get up or if you need me to bring anything home, okay?”

  “I will,” I promise.

  He kisses the back of my hand. “Gonna miss having you with me today.”

  “Two weeks together and you’re not sick of me?”

  “No.” His lips twitch. “You’re that rare unicorn person I never get tired of being around.”

  I snort-laugh and get out of bed to hug him. “Same for me, you know.”

  “There she is!” Trinity greets me at the clubhouse about an hour later. “For a minute I was worried maybe Rock tied you to the bed, but I saw him and Murphy ride off and know Rock would never leave you tied up and helpless.”

  “Har, har. Very funny.” I give her a little push and she laughs.

  Swan smiles, but doesn’t add to the conversation.

  “So how was it while we were away?” I ask to take the attention off me.

  “Quieter than I expected. I think Rock told the guys no parties while you all were away. I promised Z I’d help manage the girls at Crystal Ball, so that took up a lot of my time.” She rolls her eyes.

  “Well, thank you for keeping an eye on everything here. We really missed you. Next time you have to come with us.”

  Trinity’s eyes narrow as if that was the wrong thing to say, but I’m not sure why. Surely Swan could’ve ridden with one of the guys. She’s not an ol’ lady, but she’s an important part of the club and I know for a fact other charters brought plenty of non–old ladies along.

  Swan shrugs. “We’ll see. How’d Carter do?”

  “Good I think. I didn’t see a lot of him, honestly. He said he got a lot of sketching and painting done, so he was happy.”

  “I’m pretty sure Teller gave him a few lectures about keeping his mouth shut,” Trinity adds.

  “Well.” Swan turns toward the Champagne Room and waves over her shoulder for us to follow. “I bet you’re both stiff and out of practice, so let’s get going.”

  Trinity skips ahead to catch up. How she’s so bright-eyed this morning I don’t understand.

  “Aren’t you still exhausted from the trip?” I ask her.

  “The trip, no,” Swan answers for Trinity. “Wrath celebrating being home from the trip, probably.”

  Trinity laughs, but doesn’t disagree.

  “Oh wow.” I gasp as we enter the Champagne Room. “You were busy while we were away.”

  Swan grins and points to the shelves of yoga mats, blocks, and straps that weren’t there before we left. “Shh, I got Stash to put those together for me by telling him I was going to start having the dancers come up for yoga classes.”

  Trinity groans. “Guess we better lock the door.”

  She does indeed jog over and lock the door before we begin.

  “I’ll go easy on you at first,” Swan promises.

  “Liar,” I mutter under my breath.

  “We kept up on it for the first few days—” Trinity starts.

  “One day, Trin. One day we remembered to do it.”

  “Okay, one day.”

  “Less talking, more moving,” Swan snaps. For a quiet girl, she’s quite bossy during class.

  For the next hour we move and flow. My movements resemble a lumbering sloth more than a graceful cat. By the end of our session, I’m more exhausted than energized.

  “You all right, Hope?” Trinity asks, tossing me a small towel.

  “I don’t know. I woke up feeling crappy. Wondering if I caught something on the trip.”

  “Maybe.” Her expression softens from teasing to concerned friend. “Are you going back to work today?”

  “I was planning to. I’ve already missed a lot.”

  “If you need something, let me know.”

  “I will.”

  I thank Swan and hug both of them before heading back to the house to change.

  Heidi and Murphy are already gone for the day, so I have the house to myself. A nap is almost too tempting and I barely avoid crawling back under the covers while I slip on a loose pantsuit and heels. Definitely feels weird after wearing nothing but denim and leather for the last two weeks.

  I can’t say I like it.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Fish tacos?” Mara asks, closing her menu and setting it to the side.

  This is the first chance we’ve had to get together since I returned from Florida but now I’m wishing we’d gone anywhere else for lunch.

  My stomach rolls. Weird, I usually love this place and their fish tacos.

  “I think I just want some tea.”

  Mara cocks her head to the side and studies me. “Feeling okay?”

  “No, I must’ve caught some sort of bug on our trip. I’ve felt like crap ever since we got home.”

  “Oooh! Tell me all about the big scary biker rally. It sounds so exciting!”

  I snort out a laugh. “Says the woman who just came home from a kinkfest in the woods.”

  She blushes and arranges the napkin in her lap. “It wasn’t a kinkfest.”

  I order toast and tea and Mara stares at me the whole time.

  “Are you sure you’re not pregnant?” she asks with wide eyes and a sly smile.

  My breath catches in my throat but I laugh off the question. “I kind of doubt it.”

  She drums her fingers over the white table cloth as if she’s not satisfied with my answer and has many follow-up questions.

  “It’s just a bug,” I repeat.

  “Okay, okay. I’m just saying. You’d be such a perfect mom and Rock would be such a good daddy.”

  “What’s with the baby fever? Are you thinking of having more kids?”

  “Maybe. I’m sure Damon would love to have a boy. Or another girl to spoil the crap out of.” She stops and scrunches up her face as if she’s seriously considering what another kid would do to her household. “I’m not sure how Cora would feel sharing our attention at this point, though.”

  “Aw, she must be getting so big. You have to come up again so she and Alexa can play together.”

  “How’s Heidi doing? She’s such a sweet girl. They’re still living with you, right?”

  I share enough details not to bore her to death, but then we move on to discussing cases we’re both working on. My details aren’t as thrilling as Mara’s.

  “I can throw you more work, if you need it, Hope.”

  What an unappealing thought. I’m not sure why I’ve been shying away from taking on more cases or clients. Maybe because I like being available when Rock wants to go on a two week trip. Maybe it’s sinking in how much I really hate being a lawyer.

  “That’s okay. I’m good for now.”

  “Damon can get you in on a job correcting bar exams if you want.”

  “Ugh, no thanks. Taking it once was the only contact I want to have with it, thank you very much.”

  She chuckles.

  All too soon we’re finishing lunch and she’s rushing back to work.

  As I’m about to walk out, a wave of nausea hits me and I rush to the restaurant’s restroom to retch. Eyes watering and breathing heavily, I stare at my reflection in the mirror as I splash c
old water on my face.

  Mara’s question whispers in my head. “Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  A ( + ) sign in the round window indicates a ‘pregnant’ result.

  Yup. That’s definitely a blue plus sign.

  I’m terrified.

  And a tiny bit excited.

  But I tamp down any bit of excitement. After a miscarriage and ectopic pregnancy, the logical side of my brain is screaming that my chances of this pregnancy surviving are slim.

  The rest of me? Afraid to admit I’m a tiny bit hopeful.

  And scared to death.

  Should I even tell Rock?

  No.

  No way.

  I can’t get his hopes up until I know one way or another. It’s cruel.

  I was so distracted by our trip I didn’t think much about it. Besides, I’m so bad at math and my body has never exactly run like clockwork—go figure—I can only estimate that I’m three or four weeks late. It didn’t dawn on me that I might be pregnant until the “stomach bug” I acquired on the trip didn’t go away.

  Doctor. I better schedule an appointment.

  Downstairs, the front door opens and slams shut.

  Can’t I have a few spare moments to pee on a stick in peace?

  Gathering up the box the test came in, the instructions and the stick, I stuff everything back into the paper CVS bag I brought it home in and shove it in the back of the bottom drawer of my vanity. Rock has no reason to go in there for anything.

  “Hope?” Rock calls out.

  I finish up in the bathroom. Good thing too, when I open the door, he’s already striding into the bedroom.

  “Hey, baby doll.” His smile turns to concern as he looks over me more carefully. “Still not feelin’ okay?”

  “Meh. I think I might be getting a cold on top of the stomach thing.” I wave off the concern. “How was church?”

  Not that he usually shares much about what they discuss at the table, but the question always automatically pops out anyway.

  Today, Rock doesn’t give me one of his usual vague answers.

  “Fuckin’ clusterfuck. As usual.” He narrows his eyes and takes me in. “Are you sure you’re all right?” He brushes the back of his hand over my cheek and I lean into his touch. “I’m not used to you not waiting for me outside the war room,” he says in a gentler voice. The warm, gentle tone he saves for when we’re alone.

  I want to tell him so bad. I’m used to sharing everything with my husband. Everything.

  Not yet.

  “How busy are you at the shop right now?” I ask.

  He cocks his head and studies me again before answering. “Winter’s coming, so we’ll be slammed with everyone wanting their bike done for spring. What’s on your mind?”

  “I was wondering if we could get away for a few days.”

  “We just came back from a trip. Are you all caught up at work?”

  I shrug. “I can move some things around.”

  One corner of his mouth lifts. “Have anywhere special in mind?”

  “Not really.” My lips curve up. “Have any presidential visits you need to make?”

  “You really took to your first lady duties on our trip, didn’t you?”

  “I guess.”

  “No, you did.” He takes my hand and pulls me over to the bed. “I know we’ve both been crazy since we got back. I haven’t had a chance to properly thank you.”

  “Like what?”

  “Putting up with everything. You were such a big help to me. Made me so proud having you on my arm.” He runs the back of his hand over my cheek. “Smartest, prettiest woman in every room.”

  I lean into his touch, loving our connection. “I don’t know about that,” I mutter. “But I like that you think so.”

  “I know so.” He blows out a breath. “I do have to run downtown for a quick meeting. You can come with me if you want to.”

  I hate lying to Rock, so the next day I call my doctor first thing in the morning and they squeeze me in.

  “What was the date of your last period?” Doctor West asks.

  My cheeks heat with the embarrassment of how careless I am.

  “Uh, I’m not sure.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Longer than five weeks?”

  “Definitely. But I’m always late.”

  A hint of a professional smile ghosts over her lips. “It’s not uncommon. We’ll take some blood, schedule an ultrasound and estimate from there.”

  A spike of fear hits. I hate needles.

  If I’m pregnant, I better get used to a lot more invasive things than a simple blood draw.

  To my surprise and relief, the blood draw is quick and less painful than I expect. I’m bubbling over with emotions the whole time: scared, excited, so damn hopeful.

  And guilty that I didn’t tell Rock.

  “We should have the results tomorrow. Let’s get you in for an ultrasound on Friday. You’re more than welcome to bring your husband.”

  “Will we really be able to see anything this early?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ll be able to rule out another ectopic pregnancy?”

  She hesitates and seems to think over the answer, which only further spikes my anxiety. “We should be able to from the ultrasound. If not, we’ll order a transvaginal ultrasound. That will show us where the pregnancy is located. Try not to worry.”

  Try not to worry my ass. The entire ride home all I do is worry.

  Worry about whether I should tell Rock and get his hopes up. Worry if this baby will be healthy. Finding out if I’m actually pregnant and it’s a viable pregnancy is just the first step. There are so many other variables I have to worry about.

  It’s not like I’m in my twenties. As if I wasn’t already aware of that fact, the “Pregnant After Thirty-Five” pamphlet the nurse shoved in my hand before I left drove the knowledge home.

  I’m ready to explode with the need to talk about this with someone. But I can’t tell anyone before I tell Rock. I just can’t.

  Friday. Just a couple days away. Hopefully I’ll have an answer and then I’ll come home and tell him. Good news. Happy news.

  And if it’s bad news, I’ll tell him that too, but at least I won’t get his hopes up only to crush them with the pain of losing a baby.

  Again.

  A baby. Our baby.

  My hand settles over my stomach. “Please, please, please be okay,” I whisper.

  I’m afraid to admit to myself how much I want this baby.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I can’t believe I might be a mother soon.

  For the longest time I wasn’t sure I even wanted children.

  Now I can’t imagine wanting anything more, which means I’m completely freaked out over every little thing.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Hope?” Rock asks, breaking into my thoughts.

  For the millionth time since I left the doctor’s office, I consider confiding in him. I’m so damn scared, though. We weren’t planning this, but in my heart, I know he’ll be happy. So, it’s not fear of his reaction stopping me.

  It’s fear of getting his hopes up and then failing him again.

  Of course, when he finds out I’ve suspected for a while and didn’t tell him, he won’t be pleased either.

  “Hope?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. Just feeling a little funky.”

  “Think you need to take a sick day?”

  I imagine I’ll be taking a lot of time off in the near future. Maybe that’s why I’ve been turning down new cases and slowly trying to wrap up my small caseload. Maybe part of me already knew. “No.”

  He pulls me in close, kissing the top of my head.

  We’re touching. So close and yet there’s a huge gulf between us.

  Does he know? Can he feel me holding back?

  He places his fingers under my chin. Firm, but so gentle, he tips my head up. His steady gray eyes bore into mine.

&
nbsp; “You seem to have something on your mind lately.”

  “I have lots of things on my mind.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  I duck my head. “I can’t.” It’s not exactly a lie. My throat’s so tight, I don’t think I could form the words to express the storm inside me.

  For the next two days, all I do is worry.

  Rock’s busy at his shop, catching up on all the custom work that piled up while we were away.

  I’m busy preparing for my trial that starts on Monday.

  Around noon my doctor’s office calls to inform me that the blood test was positive and confirm the ultrasound for the next day.

  I spend most of the afternoon looking up information about ectopic pregnancies, ultrasounds, and maybe peek at a baby name website once or twice.

  Boy or girl? I try to push the thought out of my head before it fully forms.

  “Hey, partner,” Adam says, standing in my doorway.

  I glance up, mouth already twisting with skepticism. He only calls me partner when he wants something.

  “What’s up?”

  “Think you can handle a case for me tomorrow?”

  The ultrasound’s tomorrow morning. Depending on the outcome, I might not even come back to the office.

  “Can’t. I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning and then I have to prep for my trial.”

  “You all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He leans his shoulder against the door. “So, you never told me. How was the big biker orgy?”

  I sigh and close out my latest Google search. “It wasn’t an orgy.”

  At least not officially. I definitely saw enough things that could’ve qualified as an orgy. Not that I’d ever share that with Adam.

  “Well, you look good. Rested and tan.”

  “Thanks, I think. Did I look pallid and haggard before I left?” I tease.

  “Nope.” He pops his fist against the door a few times. “You think Mara’s interested in covering for me?”

  “I don’t know. Call and ask her.”

  He grumbles something and waves before walking away.

  The rest of my afternoon goes by quickly. My client comes in so I can review the questions I plan to ask with her. I also go over a list of questions I suspect her ex’s attorney will ask. As much as I try to concentrate, my mind wanders a lot throughout our appointment.