Monroe, Marla - The Bikers and the Socialite [The Dirty Dozen 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Marla Monroe Page A

find out. I mean, the chances are good that they never would put two and two together.”
    “If it were you, what would you do, Sarah Beth?”
    “Honey, I’m engaged. If I were to get pregnant, it wouldn’t matter, really. I can’t even imagine myself in your shoes. I’ve loved him for so long that I don’t even remember dating anyone else.” Sarah Beth’s voice had gone soft as she thought about her fiancé.
    “I need to tell them, don’t I?”
    “Yeah, you need to get that part out of the way. Then you can make plans for the baby.”
    Parker swallowed around the knot in her throat and only half listened as Sarah Beth began talking about her wedding plans. She would go back to their home tomorrow and tell them. Then, depending on their reaction, she would know where to go from there.
    It wasn’t that she was expecting one of them to marry her, because it wouldn’t matter. She wouldn’t do it. She just needed to know how much involvement they might want to have in the baby’s development and child rearing. She couldn’t very well make plans if they were going to interfere with all of them.
    She sighed. They were basically good men. They had treated her like a princess their entire time together. Was she doing them a disservice by assuming they would cause trouble? For all she knew, they might not want to have anything to do with the baby. That thought hurt.
    “Parker? Are you listening to me?” Sarah Beth smiled knowingly.
    “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just too preoccupied to be of much help to you with the wedding right now.”
    “That’s okay, honey. You’ve got a lot to deal with over the next few weeks.”
    They talked about the upcoming social activities that they both attended and ate their salads without returning to the subject of Parker’s pregnancy. An hour later, Sarah Beth dropped Parker back off at her condo making her promise that if she needed to talk some more she would call her.
    Parker decided that a long, leisurely bath was called for. She grabbed a book and ran the tub full, using her bath salts liberally. Then she climbed in the tub and sank into the foaming water to relax and read. She would let her subconscious sort everything out and get back to her.

    * * * *

    Parker drove over to Shane and Allen’s home every day for next five days without catching them there. It finally occurred to her that they could be out of town working. That didn’t leave her with any way to get in touch with them short of hiring a private detective, and she hesitated at going that far. She decided to try the computer.
    She spent two hours sifting through information without finding anything on them until she remembered that their gang was called The Dirty Dozen. She mapped out that with construction and finally found a contact number. When she called the number, however, the answering service informed her that they didn’t give out personal information. If she wanted to leave her name and number, it would be passed on. She hung up without leaving it. That was too impersonal. She decided to give it another week and then go by their house again. Surely they would be back soon.
    The next morning, she woke up to someone pounding on her door. She ran a hand over her face and checked the time. Eight o’clock in the freaking morning. Who would be banging on her door at that hour?
    Parker climbed out of the bed and pulled on a robe over her short nightgown. She checked the peephole and groaned. It was Michael. She opened the door and frowned at him.
    “What in the hell do you want, Michael? I’ve already told you the answer is no. I’m not going to try again.”
    “Who is he?” Michael stormed past her into the entrance hall and slapped a rolled-up newspaper into her hands.
    “Who is who? What are you talking about? You can’t just barge in anytime you want to.” She trailed after him intent on finding out what he was talking about.
    “Who is the fucking father of your baby?”
    Parker’s mouth