Page 72 of Contracted to the Bikers

The gel is cold. I inhale sharply as she presses the probe gently against my stomach, the screen flickering to life in front of us. For a moment, there’s nothing, just static shapes and shadows I can’t make sense of. But then, she stops moving, holding the probe still.

“There we are,” Dr. Carter says softly.

My breath catches as I see it, a tiny shape, small yet unmistakable, and a rapid, steady flicker.

“That’s the heartbeat,” she explains as the sound fills the room. Fluttering like a hummingbird, but strong, and very much alive.

I don’t realize I’ve reached for Rook’s hand until his fingers tighten around mine. Boone shifts closer. Cruz goes completely still.

“That’s—” I swallow, my voice catching slightly.

“That’s your baby,” Dr. Carter finishes gently. “Everything looks exactly as it should for an eight-week-old fetus.”

Relief floods through me so suddenly that it almost feels like weakness. “Thank you,” I whisper. Then my brain does the math. “Eight weeks?”

Dr. Carter nods. “Going by your hCG levels and the measurements, yes.”

I’m shocked, considering we only started trying for a baby a couple of weeks ago. I must have gotten pregnant while I was still on the pill.

She continues talking, explaining the measurements, timelines, what to expect, but I only catch pieces of it because I’m still staring at the screen, still listening to that heartbeat like it’s the only thing that matters. Right now, it is.

The moment shifts when she turns back to us, clipboard in hand. “So,” she says, glancing between us, “Which one of you is the father?” Her eyes land on Rook, the obvious choice since he’s closest.

The room goes still. The guys wait for my response. I know they’ll respect whatever I say. If I choose to play along with her assumption, Boone and Cruz won’t mind. I sit up slowly, wiping the gel from my skin, meeting her gaze. “All three of them,” I say calmly.

I won’t hide our relationship. I want all of them to be equally involved, if that means we need to go through several doctors to find the right one, so be it.

There’s a brief pause as the doctor processes the information. There doesn’t seem to be judgment in her eyes, but I feel the need to clarify, to make certain there’s no misunderstanding.

“We’re in a polyamorous relationship,” I add. “We’re raising the baby together.” I feel the men shift slightly behind me, not defensive or uncertain, just present and supportive. “And they’ll all be there during the birth,” I finish. For me, this is non-negotiable.

Dr. Carter’s expression smooths quickly, her professionalism settling back into place.

Before she can respond, Rook interjects. “Will that be a problem, doctor?” Rook’s voice is calm, even, but there’s an edge to it, a quiet challenge, the kind that says he’s prepared to push back if he needs to.

Dr. Carter doesn’t miss it, but she doesn’t cower or backtrack. She handles him like a pro. “Not at all,” she says easily. “More support usually means better outcomes.” She glances between them again, something almost amused flickering in her eyes as she smiles knowingly. “Takes a village, after all.”

The tension dissolves instantly. Cruz huffs a quiet laugh. Boone’s shoulders relax. Rook nods once, satisfied. I feel something in my chest ease that I didn’t realize was tight.

“She’ll do just fine,” Cruz murmurs under his breath.

I smile. Anyone who isn’t intimidated by Rook in prez mode can definitely handle this unusual birth. “Yeah, she will.”

***

The drive home feels different. I feel lighter, the world outside the window looks sharper somehow, sunlight catching on buildings, the distant noise of traffic blending into something almost rhythmic. It feels strange to be driving in the truck, but the guys insisted. I think the plans to teach me how to ride are going to be put on pause for a long while, not while I’m pregnant, that’s for sure.

I keep one hand on my stomach. “We’re really doing this,” I say quietly.

Rook glances at me in the rearview mirror from the driver’s seat. “We are.”

Cruz grins, twisting around in the passenger seat to look at me. “Best decision we’ve ever made.”

Boone doesn’t say anything; he just reaches over, his hand covering mine briefly. I lean my head against his chest, listening to the beating of his steady heart. We spend the rest of the drive home discussing how we’ll break the news to Jessy and whether or not she’ll take it well. Cruz suggests bribery to soften the blow, and we pull over at the store to buy her some presents, dinosaur-related ones, and some of her favorite snacks. When Cruz finds tiny leather jackets in the kids’ clothing section, he’s so excited that I agree. He buys one for Jessy and a tiny newborn one. “I’ll sew an Iron Vale patch on them both tonight,” he announces.

“You sew?” I ask, eyebrows shooting up.

“I am a man of many hidden talents,” he grins.