Page 53 of Penn

Elbowing her arm gently, I wait for her to look at me. “Thinking so loud I can hear it from here.”

Dixie lets out a breath that’s half sigh and half laugh. “I know. It’s just… I’ve never really been good at waiting.”

“Good thing you’re doing something that takes ten months to marinate before it’s ready.”

Laughing, she shakes her head. “It’s not like I planned it.”

She winces and presses her hand to the side of her belly. I’m sitting up immediately. “What’s wrong? What hurts? Do you need me to get a doctor?”

“No, I’m okay,” she says and takes my hand. “Hold still. Right there.”

I hold my breath, unsure what she’s trying to show me. My hand looks massive against her belly, and I’m slightly concerned about pressing too hard. I don’t want to hurt her or the baby, but I don’t know exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.

Then, I feel it.

A tiny, distinct nudge. A sharp little thump right against the center of my palm. It’s small, like a bubble popping under water, but the reality kicks me in the gut. My eyes widen, and I stare at my hand as though I can see through her belly at the little baby inside.

“Did you feel it?” Dixie asks.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “That was a kick?”

“Yeah. They’re active today. I’m just glad they’re giving me a break from kicking my bladder. But I’m sure that’ll come again soon.”

Another kick, stronger this time, hits my palm. It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. I’ve fought men twice my size, ridden my bike through downpours that felt like needles, and stood my ground against our rival club. None of that has ever made me feel as weak and as powerful at the same time as this tiny movement.

That’s my baby. Maybe not by blood, but by every law that matters. I will die to protect him or her. And Dixie. I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt either one of them.

“Strong kicks,” I say. “I’m going to guess it’s a boy in there.”

“God help me,” she mutters.

Zep walks into the waiting room, and his hair is wet even though he hasn’t left the hospital. A truck driver shower. We’ve all done it. And I can’t blame him.

“Hey, guys,” he says. “Bernie, how about we go and get something to eat before we see Mommy?”

“Okay!” she says, hopping off the chair. “Uncle Penn is being weird, anyway.”

My jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

“He’s about to cry.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Why’s he about to cry? And why is he holding Dixie’s tummy like that?” Zep asks.

Seriously, what the fuck? “Um, the baby’s kicking.”

“Oh, and he’s all weepy because of it,” Zep says. “Got it.”

“Yeah, really weird.”

“What the hell?” I ask as they walk away.

Dixie just laughs, her entire body shaking beside me. “You did look kind of weepy.”

If I didn’t want to feel the baby kicking again, I’d pull my hand away in defiance. “I was not weepy!”

The baby kicks again, and I shut up. I might be a little weepy.