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Heather

D inner with Ghost sounds kind of nice after sitting in the garage by myself every night since I got here.

Rather than wear my jeans and t-shirt which has become almost like a uniform, I pull out a dress.

I put it on and brush my hair until it shines.

Looking in the mirror, I realize that I don’t look anything close to good, but we’re just getting together for food, so I don’t think it matters.

When I knock, he calls for me to come in. I follow my nose to his kitchen and find that he’s set a nice little table for two for us. I tell him, “Your food smells amazing and your table is real pretty.”

He lets out a mock exasperated huff. “Save the compliments for after you taste my cooking. You might change your mind.” I can tell he’s joking by the tone of his voice.

He jerks his chin to one of the chairs. “Have a seat. I’m just dishing up the food.”

“Do you need any help?” I ask.

“No. I’ve got it. You just make yourself comfortable.”

I do exactly that, and sure enough, he comes with chicken, potatoes, veggies, and some heated rolls.

“Wow, you went all out.”

“If there’s one thing I like, it’s to eat. At the Savage Legion, you might have noticed the prospects cook for the brothers. I got pretty good at it.”

I give him an admiring look as he lowers himself into the other chair.

“Well, I can’t wait to taste it.”

“Maybe this is where I’ve been going wrong—making you sandwiches instead of full meals.”

“Oh, you don’t have to cook for me.”

“Yes, I do. You’re staying at my place and don’t have a way to cook for yourself. It’s my duty to provide for you.”

I look at him for a long second, then sigh.

“I don’t mean any insult to you, but I’m just not used to being taken care of,” I say quietly.

He tilts his head, considering my words. “You don’t have to be used to it. You just have to let me take care of you every now and then.”

My throat tightens. There’s no pressure in his voice. No angle. Just an offer.

And it’s so disarming, I feel something inside flicker, like maybe the armor I’ve been wearing has a seam in it now.

“I’m not used to it,” I admit. “People helping me. Paying attention. It usually comes with strings.”

He steps a little closer. Not too close. Just enough. “Not from me,” he says.

I believe him. God help me, I do. And it terrifies me. The words that come out of my mouth aren’t planned. They just… slip out.

“I think I might be pregnant.”

Ghost freezes mid-motion, one hand braced on the piece of chicken he’s putting onto my plate. I awkwardly take it from him and slide it onto my plate.

Meanwhile, Ghost doesn’t rush to fill the silence or make it easier. He just waits for me to complete my thoughts, and somehow, that makes it easier for me to keep going.

“I haven’t… confirmed it. Not officially,” I add.

“I took a test, but I haven’t seen anyone.

I’ve just been trying to come to grips with the possibility.

It gets overwhelming and I throw it into a little box in the back of my mind for a while.

Turns out pretending something isn’t real doesn’t actually make it go away. ”

Ghost straightens in his seat and pours juice into my glass.

“I know a place,” he says, his voice serious.

“A doctor’s office in town. It’s real clean and run by one of our prospects.

He’s a doctor with his own practice. He sees all our brothers and their old ladies.

You’ve met him already, Patch. His real name is Dr. Thomas Patchett. ”

I blink, vaguely remembering him. “One of your prospects is a real doctor?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, he’s damn good at what he does. You wouldn’t have to sign in or pay. Because you’re with me, he’ll not only see you but take really good care of you.”

His generous offer hits me right in the feels. It’s like a gift from the gods. My ex can’t track me if I don’t use my old credit cards or pop up in the system. I choke up while picking at my chicken. “You really think he’d see me?”

“I know he will,” Ghost responds confidently.

I hesitate. “I don’t want him judging me.”

Ghost shakes his head firmly. “Patch doesn’t judge.

Hell, most of the women he sees are dealing with worse issues than possibly being pregnant.

He’ll listen and if it’s something else, he’ll help you.

And you don’t have to worry about him telling everyone about your business.

He’s a real doctor who keeps his patient’s confidentiality. ”

The room is quiet for a few seconds. Then he leans closer and looks right at me. “You don’t have to do this alone, Heather. You have me and my club to look out for you now.”

I swallow hard, feeling tears sting the back of my eyes. “I don’t want to be a burden to you or anyone else.”

“I know. You’re not a burden. You’re my friend, someone I care about.”

I nod once, sharp and small, because if I say anything else, I might actually cry.

“What about the baby’s father? Is he still in the picture?” he asks.

I shake my head, not trusting myself to answer.

“Okay,” Ghost responds, thankfully not asking any more questions.

“I’ll go,” I say. “To see Dr. Patch.”

His shoulders relax just a little. Not all the way but enough to make me think he actually cares about my wellbeing and was worried for me there for a minute.

“I’ll take you there.” he offers. “We’ll go first thing in the morning. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” I tell him. And for the first time in weeks, I let myself believe that maybe I’m not alone anymore.