“I don’t want to be a responsibility.”
“You’re more than that to me and you know it.”
Air fills my lungs as if a heavy burden’s been lifted from my shoulders. “Where do we go from here?”
Grinder
Where do we go from here?
I’m still trying to transition into a semi-normal life. But it’s not like we can ask the baby to wait for a more convenient time.
“First, you’re going to give me all of your bills.” Like fuck am I gonna have her stressing about financial stuff I can easily handle.
Serena shifts and pulls away, staring at me with shock in her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“You’re carrying my baby. That’s means huge changes for you. I don’t want you under any additional stress. Besides, you’re out of a job because of me.”
The corners of her mouth curl up. “Not because of you.”
Directly because of me. She got attacked at her job because some lowlife thought that was a way to get at me and that’s how her boss found out about us.
“Yeah, buttercup. It’s my fault.” I stroke my knuckles over her cheek. “Besides, I take care of what’s mine.”
“But you’re only working part-time yourself. You’re still trying to get back on your feet.”
Fuck, that’s a painful sting to my pride. She’s not exactly wrong, but she doesn’t have all the facts, either. “I’m able to take care of both of you, Serena. I promise.”
“I like my job.” She hesitates. “Liked my job. I worked so hard to get there.”
“And you’ll find another one. No doubt in my mind, Serena. You’re a healer. It’s what you’re meant to do.” I rub my hand over her leg. “But right now the most important thing is to take care of yourself.”
“I don’t want to learn to depend on you.” She lifts her chin. “I still need to have a way to support myself and my baby. Have my own money.”
“I’ll never stop taking care of you.” Another thought slams into me. She’s trying hard not to point out one obvious issue. “If something ever happens to me, the club will take care of you, Serena.”
She snorts. “I definitely don’t want to depend on that.”
Can’t blame her. It’s gonna take a long time for her to fully trust my club. I get that. “Look, I appreciate you worrying about me, but I’m able to take care of you. You’re not a burden or whatever else you’re thinking.”
She sniffles. “I’m not an incubator, either.”
“Honey,” I laugh. “Where’d you come up with that idea?”
“You wanting me to not work and just, what? Stay home and knit baby booties?”
I’m aware of the age gap between us but is that really what she thinks of me? “Do people still do that?”
“I don’t know.” She side-eyes me. “I don’t know how to knit or anything else. Just so you know.”
“I don’t think knitting is a requirement for motherhood.” I sigh and glance around Emily’s house. Big home for someone her age. Old, but sturdy and well-crafted. Neighborhood seems quiet and tidy. Serena should be safe and comfortable here until I find us a more suitable place.
“You’re not comfortable staying at the clubhouse, are you?” I already know the answer, but I want to be sure.
“Not if you’re not with me.”
“Okay.” I blow out a frustrated breath. “I want to be with you, but this stuff with Grillo needs to be sorted first. And I’d like to move somewhere with more room.” My gaze drops to her stomach. “One way or another, we’ll need a bigger place than I’ve got now.”
Fear slides over her face and she shifts away from me ever so slightly.
“Too much?” I ask.
“A little,” she whispers.
“Nothing’s changed, Serena. The way I feel about you hasn’t changed.”
“You mean that?”
“By now, you should know I don’t talk to hear myself.”
She stares at me.
“We need at least four bedrooms.”
“What?” Her eyes widen. “One baby at a time, please.”
I can’t help laughing. I never thought I’d have one kid, let alone two. “I want you to be able to set up your studio to film your stuff in.”
“Oh.” Her lips twist in sad disappointment. “I’ll probably have to give that up. It’s silly anyway. I won’t have time for playing with makeup.”
The dismissive way she says it pisses me off. “It’s not silly. You love doing it. You’re good at it. You’ve got a lot of people who love your videos. Having a kid doesn’t mean you have to stop doing what you love. Unless it doesn’t make you happy anymore.”
“I can’t hold a baby in one arm and blend eyeshadow with the other,” she scoffs.
I hold out my arms. “My hands ain’t broken, Serena. I do plan to take care of my own kid. Not just chain him to you and skip away.”
A slight smile curves her lips, and she ducks her head. “You said him.”