Page 25 of Eight Bikers' Heir

Right now would be a perfect time because no one else was here, but where the hell did I even start? I got on my phone and did a quick Google search, seeing what things were good for pregnant women. What made pregnancy easier.

I couldn’t believe I was already doing something like this, thinking about a future with a baby. After dealing with my own dysfunctional upbringing with parents who weren’t all that affectionate, I wasn’t sure when I would get the chance to do better by my own family.

That reality hit me sooner than expected in an unconventional way, but I was ready to step up and be a dad.

Looking after others came naturally to me, especially people I considered family. I might’ve been one of the youngest in the club, but I wasn’t a flake.

I wasn’t scared of responsibility. That was part of the reason why I was brave enough to approach the club about joining. Not only could they make me a better man, but they could help me have the support and care that I never got from my own family.

I didn’t want my kid to ever have to go looking for another source of love because they didn’t get that from me.

I would be there for them no matter what.

That included the time they were still in the womb and that branched out to the woman carrying them too. I refused to put Aisling on the backburner when she was doing all the work of raising them.

There was a drugstore around the corner from our clubhouse, so I burnt some time walking there and perusing the aisles for what I found online.

Prenatal vitamins. Ginger chews for nausea. Belly oil. There were all kinds of things.

I started throwing stuff in a basket, figuring this was technically part of my job. I had to ensure the safety of her and the baby. And maybe this was also a good icebreaker for me.

I paid for the items, bagged them up, and headed back to the clubhouse, actually going inside this time. I walked over to her room, seeing that the door was cracked open. Leaning closer, I could hear groans coming from the bathroom.

“Aisling, are you okay?” I called to her, not wanting to just barge in, but I couldn’t help the spike of concern that I felt.

“Sick,” Aisling managed to say before the sound of the sink running filled the bathroom.

Good thing I got those ginger chews. I nudged open the door and knocked on the bathroom door, which was opened a few seconds later so that I could see Aisling with a miserable look on her face.

“It’s like tequila night at Pedro’s all over again,” Aisling muttered as she tenderly held her stomach.

I extended my arm out to her, letting her take it so that I could lead her over to the bed. Something about her made my protective instincts kick in, and I started getting into action, fixing her a glass of water, handing her a ginger chew, and opening the window for fresh air.

“Thank you. It’s Lincoln, right?” Aisling asked as I moved around the room, setting up her nightstand with vitamins and lotions.

I nodded as I stood in front of her, my eyes sweeping over her to make sure she was fine.

“Is there anything else you need?” I asked.

Aisling smiled a little, the color returning to her face.

“I wouldn’t mind chatting to take my mind off wanting to throw up again,” she admitted.

The corner of my mouth turned up a little. Despite the circumstances, she could crack a joke or a smile about anything.

I had always been drawn to women like that. A sunshine smile with a carefree attitude. She definitely hit those marks.

“Before all of this, were you interested in having kids?” I asked.

Aisling shrugged with a sheepish smile.

“I mean, it crossed my mind, but I saw it as a future thing with someone I loved. But it’s crazy. I’m already so attached, and I don’t know anything about my baby. Not even the gender,” she admitted as she gently rubbed her stomach.

I felt a natural pull to rest my hand on her stomach, to see if there was the beginning of a bump.

“Maybe it’s instinct,” I said.

“I’m gonna sound like a total cheese ball, but I think it’s love,” Aisling laughed softly before gesturing to me. “You’re, like, my age. Were you interested in having kids? Before this?”