Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“Sorry, Bee, they’re false labor pains. Otherwise known as Braxton Hicks.”
She pulls a face.
“Is there anything I can do to speed up the process?” she asks.
“I heard sex is supposed to help,” her husband, Jack, says with a grin.
Jack is President of the Kings of Mayhem Motorcycle Club, Tennessee Chapter.
“Of course, you would say that,” Bronte replies, folding her arms. She looks at me. “Is that even true, Doc? Or was it made up by some sex-starved husband chasing sex from his poor I’m-over-being-pregnant wife?”
I can’t help but smile at her dramatics. “There is some science behind it.”
“See,” Jack says with an uncharacteristic wiggle of his eyebrows.
Up until Bronte walked into his life, Jack didn’t have a light, humorous side. It was obliterated by the murder of his kid brother years earlier. But since Bronte moved back to Flintlock and stole his heart, I see a whole new side of Jack I never knew existed.
I guess love does that to you.
“She acts like it’s the last thing she wants, but the truth is she can’t get enough of it right now.”
He winks at his wife, who pretends to be mortified. “Jack Dillinger!”
“It’s not unusual for a pregnant woman to feel more aroused during pregnancy,” I explain, adopting my doctor’s voice.
“See, wildflower, being horny is totally normal.”
Bronte rolls her eyes at her husband and then looks at me. “He’s making it up.”
“Hey, no judgment.” I hold my hands up and grin before changing the subject. “Have you been keeping up with your OBYGN appointments?”
“Sure, but I’d much rather be your patient,” Bronte says.
“My girl doesn’t really like her doctor,” Jack adds.
“Why is that?”
“Because he’s grouchy and mean, and he smells like cheese,” Bronte says. “Plus, he doesn’t listen to me. I want you to look after me.”
“You know that’s not possible, Bronte.”
Not being licensed means I don’t get to help her in an official capacity.
“But you look after the MC.”
“I look after gunshot wounds and busted-up noses, not pregnant women. If things don’t go to plan, you’ll need a hospital, and I can’t step foot in one of those as a doctor.”
“I know, it’s just…”
“What?”
“I only feel comfortable with you.” She shrugs. “You’re a good guy to have around in an emergency, you know.”
She’s talking about last summer when Jack got shot. He collapsed on their driveway after parking his bike. It turned out he’d been hit by a stray bullet while riding home on his Harley. Bronte was the only one around to help. In a panic, she called me, and I’d talked her through what to do until Dakota Joe and I could get there.
Since that day, the seed of friendship between us had grown into a tight bond. She’s become the sister I never had, and I’d do anything for her.
Except be her doctor during this pregnancy.
It’s too much of a risk.
I give her a wink. “I promise I’ll be there when it’s time, okay? Just not as your doctor.”
She presses a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you.”
Jack walks me to the door. “Thanks for coming. I tried getting her to go to the hospital, but she insisted on calling you.” He stops and turns to me. “You sure she’s doing okay?”
“She’s fine. But you look like you’ve got something on your mind. What aren’t you telling me?”
He looks at me, and I can see the strain on his face. As President of the Tennessee Chapter, he carries a lot of responsibility.
“It’s been a while since I’ve done this, you know? My kids are all adults. Bam and Loki are in their mid-twenties, and Hope is in college.”
Jack doesn’t say a lot. Like me, he lets his quiet do the talking. If this were a romance novel, I’d call him broody. I know he’s thinking about his brother, Cooper, who he raised from an infant. He was murdered several years ago, and it’s an unhealing scar Jack carries around with him. It nearly destroyed him, and I have the feeling he’s terrified he might somehow lose Bronte too.
I hold his gaze. “Nothing is going to go wrong. She’s had an uneventful pregnancy and is in perfect health. I’ve seen the last sonogram. Everything is how it should be.”
He smiles, but it’s empty. “I’ll hold you to that,” he says, showing me to the door.
Outside, the air is cool with a sharp winter chill. Across the valley, the sun dips lower behind the silhouetted hills of Flintlock and bleeds into the sky with deep streaks of red and gold.
I zip up the hoodie I’m wearing under my cut and pull on my gloves as I make my way down the porch steps and along the little path to Evelyn, the decommissioned ambulance I drive.
The club bought her for me to do my medical runs throughout the southern parts of Appalachia. It’s where many of the Kings of Mayhem allies live. People who have slipped through the net because of their social circumstances and don’t receive the proper medical care they need. Some can’t afford it or don’t want to venture into town, while some just don’t have the means to get anywhere near a doctor. Not too many busses pass through little towns like Gray Rock and Coal Town, and cabs have never ventured into those parts.