Fast

by Gillian Archer

  I was dumbfounded. My mouth opened and closed a few times but nothing came out. To have my exact mental fantasy play out in front of me threw me for a loop. “I thought you didn’t want…”

  I shook my head as tears welled in my eyes. Stupid hormones.

  “I did. I do.” Ryan stepped up to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I wanted to see you, but I was trying to give you some space. Since you’d left so fast when we’d first found out and told me that you’d be in touch, I was trying to respect that. I was lonely and super worried but afraid to call you. It’s hard to be the one reaching out. Once you’ve been slapped down a time or two, you stop reaching.”

  A tear escaped and trailed down my cheek. That was the singularly saddest thing I think I’d ever heard. “Oh, Ryan.”

  I turned into his arms and buried my face in his chest, wrapping my arms around him. I wanted to hold him and tell him that everything would be all right. I wanted to heal the wounded little boy inside him. But I didn’t know how, so I just held on.

  His arms came around me as he rested his chin on top of my head. “Is this a yes to dinner tonight?”

  “Yes.” I laughed huskily. Shaking my head, I pulled back and looked up at him. “You are one smooth son of a bitch. You know that?”

  Ryan’s dimple flashed. “I’ve been told that a time or two. When do you get off of work?”

  “Technically six, but I usually stay till six-thirty and help out with some of the activities.”

  “I’m off at five. Come over whenever. I’ll cook you dinner, and we can spend some time getting to know each other. Sound good?”

  “Yes. Sounds great.”

  “It’s a date. Take care of yourself and drive safe.”

  Ryan leaned into me and my breath hitched. But he only pressed a kiss against my forehead before taking a few steps backwards. Tossing me another dimple flashing smile, he turned and headed for his motorcycle.

  I couldn’t watch anymore. I wanted to at least pretend that I had some self-control.

  As I drove away, a bemused smile spread across my face. Somehow I’d gone from being annoyed and holding a grudge against him to cuddling in the parking lot and agreeing to everything he’d said—including dinner.

  I had a date with Ryan Burns. The father of my unborn child.

  What the hell just happened?

  Chapter 12

  Ryan

  “Nice of you to join us,” Nathan snarked as I entered the shop.

  I didn’t reply as I returned to the wiring job I’d left an hour ago. No one liked doing the electrical work on the motorcycles—so many wires snaking everywhere and they were so fucking tiny. Despite our “all for one” motto, I was always the one left to do the shit job of wiring.

  “I hope it was a filling lunch. You were gone a whole fucking hour.” Nathan grouched from his side of the shop where he was meticulously putting his tools away.

  I raised the lift at my station until the motorcycle was where I wanted it. “Didn’t actually eat.”

  “Are you shitting me? You were gone for an hour and you didn’t eat lunch? What the hell, Ry? It’s Wednesday. You couldn’t keep it in your pants for five more hours?”

  “Seriously, Nate? What the fuck does it matter?” I was so goddamn tired of being the screw-up. The lazy brother. They didn’t have a fucking clue. “It was my lunchtime. I’m gonna use it for what I want.”

  “It matters because this is a business.” Nathan crossed his arms over his chest like he hadn’t screwed off on a lunch break ever. The hypocrite.

  I tried to breathe deep and get my anger under control, the advice from my instructor playing back in my mind. “Breathe. Count to ten. And let the anger go.” But Nathan really knew how to push my buttons. All my brothers did. “I didn’t fuck anyone. I had a doctor’s appointment. Is that okay with your highness? Or do I need a note from the doctor next time?”

  Some of Nathan’s self-righteous anger leached out as he dropped his arms. “Doctor? What’s going on?”

  I hitched a shoulder. I didn’t know how to answer that. Sabrina’s voice kept ringing in my ears. “You’re better off waiting until after the first trimester before you tell anyone.” Should that include my brothers? Hope and I hadn’t had a chance to talk about this. Were we telling people? I felt guilty that Sabrina and Dylan already knew. Nate was my brother—sure, he was an ass sometimes, but that was only because he cared. Maybe I should tell him too.

  But Nathan read my silence as something else. “Ahh, I see. Does it burn when you pee? Little bro has an STD.”

  And maybe he was just an ass.

  “Fuck off.”

  Nathan hooted. “Fucking awesome. Did you get it from that gorgeous blonde from the last Kings’ bike reveal? Hope, wasn’t it? Had to be. You’ve been a fucking monk since that night.”

  “Not funny.” I tossed my pliers down and was across the shop before Nathan could close his mouth. And he really fucking needed to. I was in his face in a second, all my anger management lessons forgotten. “I don’t want to hear her fucking name on your lips. Especially if you’re gonna be saying shit like that. You hear me?”

  “Whoa, whoa.” Austin came from nowhere and jumped in between me and Nathan, pushing us apart. “What the hell is going on here?”

  I didn’t answer. I kept my eyes on Nathan, promising him without words what I really wanted to do to the bastard.

  “Nothing,” Nathan replied, not taking his eyes off me either. “Just giving Ry a little shit for taking a long lunch.”

  “I was gone an hour.” I shook my head. “I’ll come in early tomorrow to make up the extra half hour if it really chaps your ass that much.”

  Nathan tilted his head. “Why not stay late tonight? Do you have plans? Or maybe you’re just Hope-ing.”

  “Hilarious,” I snarled. “I thought the bike wasn’t due until next week.”

  Austin rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually the client called while you were at lunch and wanted to know if he could have the bike Friday. This Friday.”

  As in two days from now? I shook my head. “If you guys are in a hurry all of a sudden why was Nathan straightening up his tools like a tight-ass when he could’ve been working on the fucking bike?”

  “Like I’d touch your station after the last time.” Nathan laughed. “I might be thick, but I’m not that dumb.”

  Oh right. The fight the camera crew had captured on our special that ended up with us in the ER with broken hands and noses. Nathan had taken some of my tools. Again. After I’d specifically asked him not to. Plus we might’ve had some animosity building up ever since he’d moved in on the girl I’d been eyeing at the nail salon at the end of the block. In my defense, this was a whole year ago.

  Before Hope. And before my anger management classes.

  “Regardless,” Austin raised his palms. “We need to get the wiring job done, and we need it ASAP.”

  I closed my eyes with a muttered curse. “I can’t tonight. I got plans I can’t postpone.”

  I was on thin ice as it was with Hope. Any sudden dick move on my part and all the ground I’d made up would disappear in a blink.

  “Right.” Nathan smirked. “Ryan’s been talking about this thing he’s been burning and itching to do.”

  I shook my head and tried to remember what was important. Hope. Our baby. And not the way I really wanted to slam my fist into Nathan smug, annoying face. Because there was no way I’d make our dinner plans if Nathan and I were in the ER. Again.

  Breathe and count to ten.

  Eight. Nine. Ten. “Sounds like Nathan is happy to fill in for me.” I tossed him a smug grin. “I’ll come in early tomorrow and pick up any slack he’s dropped.”

  Austin lifted an eyebrow. “You’re volunteering to come in early? You? Is there some Invasion of the Body Snatchers thing going on here? Did the pod people get you?”

  I huffed in reply and returned to my station. There was wiring to be done, and apparently I was the o
nly one who was actually gonna do it.

  “No really.” Austin followed behind me. “Where’s my screw up little brother who couldn’t be bothered to come in on the occasional Saturday, let alone volunteer to come in early in the middle of the week?”

  “Yeah,” Nathan smirked. “What happened, bro? Does it have anything to do with your appointment earlier?”

  I snorted. There was no way I was telling them about Hope and our situation now. I really wasn’t up for the lecture. Because if I knew my brothers, there would be one. I’d rather wait until Hope and I figured out whatever this was between us and I had a few more answers about everything before I opened this can of worms. “Are you guys gonna bicker all afternoon or are you gonna help me with this pain in the ass wiring?”

  Austin raised an eyebrow but let the moment pass. “You and Nathan can get to work on that. I have a conference call with the production company in ten. You both ready to have your every move and thought documented by cameras at work?”

  My stomach dropped. Shit. I forgot about the series. It was gonna be hella hard to keep what was going on with Hope off the show. And I had to, because once those producers started digging… Son of a bitch.

  “When does that start again?” I asked weakly.

  “Next month,” Austin answered as he tapped at his cell phone screen.

  “Right,” I replied. “Great.”

  Nathan sent me a questioning look that I avoided as I bent over the bike.

  Like I didn’t have enough on my plate already.

  Fuck my life.

  * * *

  Figuring out what to cook Hope for our first dinner together was the biggest mindfuck. Did she like fish? Was she a vegetarian? Was she off carbs? Were there any foods that already made her nauseous because of morning sickness? What about spicy food? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  You couldn’t go wrong with chicken, right? Shit, I hoped that was the right call. I hit the grocery store and now had a few breasts marinating in the fridge while I chopped some veg for a southwest style salad with black beans.

  I also might’ve had some refrigerated pasta and bottled sauce as a backup.

  To say I was nervous was an understatement. I never thought I’d be in this position, but I wanted this between us to work. I’d been drawn to Hope the first time I saw her, and our one night together had rocked my world. Plus, I didn’t want to be one of those single dads who only saw their kid every other weekend. The stakes were high.

  Shit, maybe I should’ve cooked steaks.

  When the sound of my doorbell pealed through my place, I was a jittery clusterfuck of nerves. I really wanted to have a beer, but I’d promised Hope I wouldn’t drink.

  I opened my door with a huge grin, careful to flash the dimples that I knew she found charming, but my smile fell away when I saw who stood on my front step.

  The old man.

  I tossed a quick look behind him, afraid his path would cross Hope’s but saw no one else.

  I braced myself against the open doorjamb. “What do you want?”

  His brow wrinkled. “Is that any way to greet your father?”

  “For you? Yeah, actually it is.” I didn’t even want to acknowledge his father comment. Austin had been more of a dad to me than this asshole. And our breakfast together a few weeks back hadn’t given me any new warm fuzzies for the man. “I’m not playing this game with you today. I have someone coming over in a bit. What do you want?”

  “I see.” He stuffed his hands in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Is it okay if I come inside? I really don’t want to have this conversation out here.”

  “Nope. I don’t want you inside my place.” I stepped into the hall and shut the door behind me. “You’ve got two minutes. I wasn’t kidding about having plans.”

  His face turned red and the muscle in his jaw flexed as he tried to stare me down.

  I snorted. I grew up with four brothers. This old asshole didn’t scare me. “Time’s ticking, old man.”

  His head swung left and right, taking in the empty parking lot before his eyes narrowed on me again. “Right. Well, uh, there’s no real easy way to ask this but…I need a loan.”

  I closed my eyes with a soft laugh. Of course. Honestly I was surprised it’d taken him this long. “What happened to all that money you bragged about earlier? From your folks and the sale of the house?”

  “Lawyers and some wrongful death lawsuit your bitch of an aunt filed decades ago ate the whole thing up. I don’t know why that fucker Tony didn’t tell me about it. But then again, he overcharged my folks for decades so why would I expect him to be honest? Crooked dickhead.”

  “Haven’t you gotten a paycheck yet? It’s been almost two weeks since Dylan hooked you up with that job. You can’t have that many expenses living in a halfway house—can’t you hold out until you get paid?”

  “Yeah, that’s another thing. I need to find another job. My P.O. says I can’t be unemployed by the time of my next check-in.”

  “Unemployed? What happened to the job Dylan got you?”

  His lip curled. “Stupid asshole thought he could say shit to me when he didn’t think I could hear. Fuck that. I don’t need that kinda hassle.”

  “You kinda do. You have to have a job. Do you really think you can keep burning through our contacts without any of the fallout raining down on us? Dylan vouched for you. He put his neck out for you. And now you’ve screwed him over?”

  “It’s not like you guys are hurting for work. You have your own TV show for Christ sake. You have more than enough money to spare.”

  I shook my head. Fuck that. I was done. “Not for you.”

  “Come again?” He blinked like he hadn’t been expecting that reply.

  “I only went to that breakfast for Dylan. I love my brother, but I don’t want anything to do with you. You’re no parent of mine. Aunt Wendy is the only parent I have left thanks to you. So I’m done.”

  “You can’t do that.” His face flushed from red to purple as a vein stood out on his forehead. “You owe me.”

  “What the fuck do I owe you? You killed my mother. Do you really think Aunt Wendy hasn’t told us about her? About the wonderful, amazing woman she was before you broke her down? Before you killed her? You took her from us. I don’t owe you shit.”

  “You’re gonna regret this,” he shouted as he pointed a finger in my face.

  “Fuck you. I’ll regret nothing.” I retorted as I batted his hand out of my face. “And don’t even think about hitting Dylan up for a loan. You burned that bridge when you screwed him by quitting your job.”

  He stepped toward me like he was going to do something when Hope’s Dodge Charger pulled up. Her engine idled for a second, but I didn’t take my eyes off the old man. He was the type who’d swing the minute my back was turned.

  Hope’s car turned off and her door opened. “Hey, Ryan. Everything okay?”

  His eyes left mine, and I snarled as he looked Hope up and down. Then his lip lifted in a sneer. “You better make sure he pays you in advance. This one is a prick when it comes to settling the bill.”

  I stepped toward him, but he was already down the sidewalk and shouldered not too gently as he passed Hope. It took everything inside me not to chase him down and teach him a lesson with my fists.

  But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I had to prove to myself—and Hope—that I was a better man than him. That I could be a better father than him.

  Hope turned to me with wide eyes. “Did he just imply that I’m a prostitute?”

  “Sorry about that. He won’t be back—ever—if that helps at all.” I pulled open my door and gestured for her to come in.

  She turned and eyed my old man’s retreating figure before following me inside. “And just who was that?”

  “You just met the patriarch of the Burns Family and recent parolee, George Burns.”

  “Oh.” Hope’s eyes widened as she took off her purse and set it down on a nearby leather arm chair. “That’s, uh
, awkward.”

  “You have no idea.” I shuddered like I could shake the shitty mood off me. It didn’t help. Tossing Hope a forced smile, I crossed the room to the fridge. “Want something to drink? I stocked up on non-alcoholic alternatives. I have near beer, nonalcoholic cider, soda—caffeine free, diet, and zero, whatever that is—and apple juice. And of course there’s always water. I have still, sparkling, and tap. I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got a little of everything.”

  “I see that.” Hope had followed me into the kitchen and stood in front of the fridge with wide eyes. “Is there anything you don’t have?”

  “Alcohol. I carted the lot over to Dylan’s place next door—beer, tequila, whiskey, and a bottle of vodka I had for some reason. It’s all gone. I don’t trust myself having it in the house. I’ve never successfully given anything up before, so it seemed like the first logical step. Dylan was happy. I doubt the asshole will have to buy liquor for a while.”

  “Ryan.” Hope gave a little laugh as she shook her head. “You don’t have to give up alcohol because I can’t drink. I don’t expect that at all.”

  “Of course I am. I told you I wouldn’t drink, and I won’t.” I closed the fridge and faced Hope, with a serious look on my face. I wanted, needed her to know I was serious. “I’m in this. With you. I’m one hundred percent in.”

  Chapter 13

  Hope

  I sucked in a breath. He couldn’t—he didn’t… I couldn’t form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. My heart pounded in my ears and it felt like the whole world slowed for a moment. Ryan Burns was a hundred percent in with me.

  Holy crap.

  “I, uh. Wow. I don’t really know what to say.” I hunched my shoulders as I inspected the toes of my shoes. Really I was just looking anywhere but at Ryan.

  “There’s nothing you need to say.” The tone in his voice had me jerking my head up to take in his wide smile and that dimple. “Except, of course, what you want to drink.”