Honey to Burn (Sweet & Dirty BBW MC Romance Book 10) Read online

  So Mac did that. First, he stopped in the men’s john, used the toilet and splashed cold water on his face and hair. Then he traipsed into the big, cluttered kitchen.

  The smell of fresh-brewed coffee filled the room. Oh, God yes, please let him get some caffeine in his system. Then maybe he wouldn’t die after all.

  With full mugs in hand, he and the club veep sat at the big, scarred table, and Mac talked.

  Rocker listened and then shook his head. “Jesus. You’re offering to step up, and your baby mama don’t want you to? What is up with that?”

  Mac took another slug of coffee. “That’s what I’d like to know,” he said. “Guess I’m just a goddamn stud. Good enough to fuck, but not to keep around.”

  Rocker chuckled at this. “I dunno, I wouldn’t pick your ugly mug to stamp on any kid of mine.”

  Mac gave him an evil look. “My Cassie’s the prettiest little girl in the Tri.”

  “I know, I know, I’ve seen her picture. She’s a cutie, no mistake. How often d’you get to see her?”

  “Once or twice a month,” Mac said bitterly. “Her mama lawyered up ‘to protect her daughter’.”

  "Well fuck that noise," Rocker said. "You ain't gonna lay down and let this one walk over you, are you, prospect?"

  "You got any ideas, I'm all ears.”

  Now that he was awake and functioning, Mac could admit—to himself, no one else—that he’d wanted Rae more than he wanted the baby.

  He wanted access to her, time with her. He wanted to be the one she relied on, from advice about pregnancy to starting her car on cold winter mornings.

  He wanted to sleep with her, fuck her, and watch her body change as she grew round with his baby.

  Rocker, who knew none of this, smiled smugly. "Well, all I know is dads have rights, too. And I don't know family law all that well, but this club has someone on retainer who does."

  Mac felt a small shaft of that morning sunlight penetrate his hung-over despair. "Tell me what I have to do.”

  Rocker reached into his shirt, pulled out his phone, and started pushing buttons. Then he put the phone to his ear.

  "Hey, Jace, how are you doing? Me? Eh, staying out of trouble. Listen, I got a brother here who could use your help. You have any time to talk to him?" He raised his brows at Mac. "Tomorrow at 2 o'clock, downtown Coeur d'Alene. Can you do that?"

  Mac held up a finger and pulled out his own phone, thumbing to the calendar app. "Yeah, I can do that.”

  Rocker nodded. "All right, our boy will be there. His name? Prospect. Naw, just kidding. His name’s Mac. Mac Carson."

  Mac waited until his veep had put his phone away before speaking again. "I'm grateful and all," he said. "But you mind telling me who this guy is that I'm gonna see tomorrow at 2 pm?"

  Rocker laughed. "Did I forget to mention that part? Prospect, you just got yourself an attorney."

  Mac stared. "Well, that's a first."

  The veep tipped his head wryly. "Hang with us, it likely won't be the last. Stick keeps the Leupold brothers on retainer, ready when the club needs them. They're sharp, and they're good at bending the law to suit their clients."

  November 19th

  The next afternoon, Mac drove over the state line into North Idaho and into downtown Coeur d'Alene, a pretty small town on the north shore of a big lake.

  He liked Jace Leupold right away. The dude was young but seriously cool in his fancy suit and tie, lounging in his office chair, but doing it like a badass.

  He was a good listener, taking notes as Mac explained the situation with RaeAnn and the baby, and how Mac was determined to be part of this child's life.

  The attorney also asked a lot of questions.

  And it was a good thing Mac liked him, because some of those questions were not comfortable.

  "So this is your second baby out of wedlock, correct?"

  "Right. I got a little girl over in the Tri-Cities. Cassie's four."

  "And her mother didn't want to cohabit, or share custody, either?"

  Mac's jaw tightened but he nodded, because that was also correct. "Right. I get one afternoon a month, at her place."

  "I can see you don’t like these questions," Jace told him. "But if they bring in a lawyer, he'll ask these and maybe more, only not in a friendly way."

  "I can handle it, don't worry about me," Mac said.

  The attorney studied him for a moment and then nodded. "Good. One last one—is there anything in your past, any behaviors that would have led your daughter’s mother to be wary of leaving you alone with her?”

  “Huh?” For a minute, Mac didn’t know what the lawyer was getting at. Then it hit him and he reared back in revulsion. “No! Hell, no. Jesus, no.”

  “Sorry, had to ask. Now, what we're hoping for here is to stay out of court—just have us some friendly, informal negotiations. With Ms. Denton and her... I assume from what you’ve told me that her mother will be involved."

  Mac answered it with a scowl. "I'm sure she will. RaeAnn's a nice girl, but she's... soft. Her mother does way too much thinkin' for her."

  "So, tell me your best-case scenario here, Mac. What would you most like?"

  Mac flushed and shifted in his chair. "Well, I wanted RaeAnn and me to give it a go. Live together and raise our kid. Give him or her two parents. That's the way I was raised, and I always thought when I settled down, that's the way I'd raise my own kids. I’ve been fixing up my place, cleaning it up and I was ready to show her it could work for us—for a family."

  Jace nodded. "Are we talking marriage here?"

  Mac shifted again, unease snaking down his spine. "Ah... I guess. If we get along. Don't wanna trap both of us in some legal nightmare if we just can't stick it, you know?"

  "Sure. So, if cohabitation can't happen? What's next on your scale?"

  "Well, then by God, I want shared custody. I know a baby needs to be with its mama, but I want to be around. I want to see my kid when I want to see it, not when they toss me an hour here or there. And I want him to spend some real time, like holidays, with my family. My folks are gonna go nuts if they don't get to spend time with this one. It's hard enough on them not seeing Cassie but every few months when I can arrange it."

  Jace nodded again, and Mac went on. "And I want him to spend time with me too—half the time, or as close as we can make it. If Rae ends up with some other guy, I won't let her shut me out. My kid's not going through life calling some other guy daddy. Not when I live right here in the same county with him."

  The attorney held up his fancy pen and nodded. "So we'll add, she would need to have your permission to move the child to another community. And should she marry, her husband will not be allowed to adopt the child."

  Mac crossed his arms and set his jaw. "Hell, yeah. Put that in there, too."

  May as well go for everything he could get.

  “My final suggestion for now,” Jace said, “Is that I write this up for you, but we keep it on hold for now. It would be in your best interests, long term, to try and solve this by talking to your child’s mother. Then, if that doesn’t work…”

  Mac nodded. “Yeah. I was thinking on the way over here, that’s the way to go. ‘Cause I would like to try, with RaeAnn. You know, to work things out between us.”

  Convince her they could make it work as a couple. At least give it a try.

  If that didn’t work, he’d bring in the big guns.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  November 19th

  Despite her relief at her mother's acceptance of her pregnancy, and the way Ellen had subsequently thrown herself into helping prepare for the baby's arrival and even hired a new sales clerk to fill in while RaeAnn was feeling so nauseous, Rae still felt a niggling guilt at the way she'd left things with Mac.

  After all, he was the baby's father, and he had shown a surprising willingness to be involved.

  She wished now that she'd agreed to go and see his trailer. Had he really scrubbed it out and cleared a room for a nursery? T
hat was so... sweet, even if she did not want to raise her baby in a double wide.

  She'd call him, she decided. The next day. Because after working a partial shift at E, she was exhausted.

  Rae fell asleep thinking of him, and smiling wistfully. It would be so nice if they really could be a little family, him, her and the baby.

  She dreamed that he stood smiling at her in front of a cute little house with a picket fence around the front yard. She smiled back and hurried toward him, carrying their baby in her arms.

  But as she got closer, he moved away from her. Mounting his Harley, he revved up the engine and rode away, just as she finally got the gate open and entered the yard.

  And when she looked down at the bundle in her arms, it wasn’t a baby at all, but the plastic doll-baby she’d played with as a child.

  She stood there weeping, because none of it was real.

  She woke in the morning, nauseated and cursing the night they'd met.

  After hugging the toilet, then brushing her teeth and eating a few soda crackers, she felt better. After eating a bowl of cold cereal, showering and getting dressed, she felt pretty good.

  She spent most of the day perusing the course catalogue she’d picked up and signing up online for the coming session of beauty school at Jean Michele Academy. Of course, the famed hair product entrepreneur didn’t teach here, but he’d opened a series of very highly rated beauty schools across the western US.

  The local school was in the Spokane Valley, on a main thoroughfare near the Spokane Valley Mall. An easy drive if she took I-90 through downtown Spokane.

  Classes ran M-F during the day. Then, once she’d progressed far enough in the course, she’d be able to take appointments at the school salon. That was the part she was most excited about—getting her hands on clients’ hair and helping them look their best.

  The next session would begin January 2nd, so until then, Rae would work part-time for her mother, spend time with her friends, and get started on her regimen of pregnancy fitness.

  She was determined to be healthy and ready to give birth in July. She was also scared half out of her mind by the labor and birth videos she’d watched online, but at least the exercises gave her some sense of control.

  That evening, she ate supper with her mother.

  Ellen smiled approvingly as RaeAnn ate up her spaghetti and meatballs and green salad. “Good. A healthy diet is so important now. And have you been taking the vitamins the doctor prescribed?”

  RaeAnn refrained from rolling her eyes. “Yes, mother. And I’m drinking plenty of water, and all the other things.”

  Her mother picked up her glass and took a sip of red wine. “Well, you can’t blame me for worrying about you. Especially since, apparently, I’m the only one who is.”

  RaeAnn’s already sagging spirits deflated. No need to wonder who Ellen’s remark targeted. “He’s been busy, mother. You know, with his job.”

  Ellen raised her brows. “Of course, dear. Whatever you say.”

  As soon as she could escape, Rae closed herself in the privacy of her apartment and called Mac.

  She nervously counted each unanswered ring of his cell phone and was just about to hang up at number ten when he answered... or at least someone did. Rae heard loud voices, louder music, and laughter. She also heard a woman calling Mac 's name.

  As Rae sat, frozen in dismay, the woman spoke into the phone. "Sorry, Mac's real busy right now. Try again tomorrow, hon." She laughed raucously, then ended the call.

  Oh, God. That was how Mac was really spending his time? She was home alone, pregnant with his child, while he partied with a bunch of wild women?

  And although a tiny part of her acknowledged that she’d told him she was fine without him, she did not care. He should—he should just know she needed him.

  She tossed her phone onto her kitchen counter and stomped into her bedroom. As she readied herself for bed, she called him every bad name she could think of.

  But then, in her nightgown, she walked the few steps into the baby's tiny nursery, where a pale yellow blankie hung over the side of the white crib and a tiny layette set was laid out on the top of the white dresser.

  Poor little baby, coming into the world without a daddy who cared about her. Just like her.

  She cried herself to sleep.

  Mac called her the next day—luckily after she’d finished her morning encounter with the toilet, and gotten some breakfast in her tummy.

  But that didn’t mean she was happy to hear from him. Not after her mother’s predictions had more or less been proven true the night before.

  "Hey," he said, sounding calm and good-humored—as he would, after enjoying the services of his latest slut. "Saw you called. Want to get together? I'll buy you lunch."

  Rae snorted. "Really? I'm surprised you'd have the time, Mac. To squeeze me in with all your other women, I mean."

  There was a short silence.

  "Hey, now hold on," he said reprovingly. "What do you mean, all my other women? If you're talkin' about last night, I was at a party, yeah. But it was just a get-together at the clubhouse, that's all."

  "I don't even know what that means," she snapped, feeling left out. "What club?"

  "Ah... a motorcycle club," he explained. "Out here in Airway Heights. Real nice folks. You'd like them."

  "A motorcycle club?" Rae repeated faintly. "You mean, with those guys you met at that bar up north?" On their hot date with the cold ending.

  "Uh, yeah," he said. "Anyway, how are you feeling? Any better?"

  Still disgruntled that he'd been partying with those bikers, and women who felt free to answer his phone calls, RaeAnn pouted. "No, not really."

  "Well," he said, "Lot of mamas get over that after a few weeks, or a couple months. Then it's smooth sailing."

  A couple of months? That sounded like forever at this point.

  "Rae,” he said. “Can we get together and talk some more? You and me, we're connected now. We're family. Can we talk about us moving in together, and—and being that family?"

  She opened her mouth, but no words emerged.

  "I like you," he went on. "And you like me too, some of the time. We're dynamite in the sack, that's for sure. Why not try and work that into something more?"

  "You mean… you mean, get married?" she asked, her heart pounding so hard she felt faint—with hope or fear, she honestly was not sure. Maybe both?

  He gulped audibly. "Uh... whoa. I don't know. I guess, eventually... y'know, if things work out."

  Her stomach fell. "Oh, my God. You want us to l-live together and have a baby and not even give him his father's name?" she demanded, her voice rising along with her agitation. "The answer to that is no, Mac Carson. And not just no, but hell no! So you can just—just go back to your motorcycle sl—people and—and leave me alone."

  Then she ended the call, stabbing her phone screen so hard her thumb hurt, and tossed the phone onto her sofa.

  It buzzed almost immediately with a text. Then another.

  Against her better judgment, she picked it up and read Mac 's texts.

  'Okay. That's the way you want it? Fine.' Then, ominously, 'You'll be hearing from my lawyer.'

  RaeAnn dropped her phone again as if it were a poisonous snake, and stared at it.

  A lawyer? She didn’t like the sound of that… not one bit. But what on earth was he up to?

  Guys who just wanted to walk away didn’t hire lawyers, did they? It wasn’t like she’d tried to strongarm him into involvement, in which case he might hire a lawyer to stop her… maybe.

  Or not. She had no idea. Wiping her eyes, which were streaming with tears again, she made her way to the nearest tissue box.

  She found out what Mac was up to a week later, when a registered letter arrived on her doorstep.

  She sank onto her sofa and read the formal, legal request for a DNA test, and should the baby prove to be his, a meeting between RaeAnn Denton and MacAuley Carson, along with designated legal represent
atives necessary to work out a custody arrangement for their child, upon said child’s arrival.

  Oh, God. He really had gotten a lawyer.

  And it seemed he really did want to be part of their baby’s life. He just didn’t want to be part of RaeAnn’s life anymore.

  She swallowed with difficulty around the huge lump in her throat, and a big fat tear plopped onto the fancy, legal stationery.

  “Well,” Lacey said carefully, when RaeAnn called her and Dee to meet her for lunch at Las Palmas and shared this news. “At least he wants to be a daddy, right? Most guys would have run the other way as fast as they could go.”

  Rae nodded, smiling gamely. “Yup. This is good.” But also puzzling, because Ellen was so certain he would want little or nothing to do with her and the baby, or that even if they did start something, he wouldn’t stick around.

  “Huh,” Dee said, scowling. “I could’ve told him, if he’d shown up with a big diamond, he wouldn’t need to do this.”

  “He can’t afford a big diamond,” Rae reminded her glumly. “He lives in a trailer, Dee.”

  “Well, then a little one. Anyway, seems he can afford a lawyer. Do you have any idea how expensive they are?”

  Dee flinched, which meant Lacey had kicked her under the table.

  “Not helping, Dee,” Lacey hissed.

  “Ow. Sorry, sorry. So, Rae, whatcha gonna name her if she’s a girl? Dee makes a nice middle name.”

  “Lacey would be better,” the redhead argued.

  Rae listened to the two squabbling and sighed. “With my luck, it will be a boy,” she mused. “And I’ll be surrounded by Matchbox cars and dinosaurs for the next twenty years.”

  Dee snorted. “And the smell of dirty socks and farts.”

  Lacey snickered. “And those toy laser guns that go ‘Peeuw! Peeuw!”

  “Truth,” Dee said. “I come home sometimes and find my brothers still playing with those damn things, and they’re both in college!”

  They all laughed, and Rae felt better. Anyway, she was going to have a girl, she was sure.

  Girls ran in her family.