Chapter 9
NINE
GHOST
Ivy & Piper’s Guide to Life Rule Number Five:
Be your own sugar daddy.
I nstead of leaning into my touch, Piper pulled back as if she’d been burned. “It’s not that simple.”
“You trying to let me down gently?” I asked, rotating my whiskey glass in a slow circle against the bar top like my entire future didn’t hinge on what she said next.
She rubbed at her brow and crossed her legs before answering. “No, that’s not it.”
I made the mistake of lowering my gaze to the soft curves of her thighs, my mouth going dry as I imagined sinking my teeth into her tender flesh.
The muscles in her calves flexed and tightened as if it was taking everything in her to remain seated. “What do you want?”
Fuck, I wanted her.
I wanted to wrap her legs around my waist and bury myself so deep inside her tight cunt the crease between her brows faded, and she had no choice but to accept that she was mine .
But she was as skittish as a spooked horse—one wrong move and someone was getting kicked in the balls. Likely me.
“What do I want?” I repeated, trying to get myself under control before I fucked this up. “You, Piper. I want you.”
Her eyes flashed with something—longing, fear? I couldn’t tell. She pulled her plump bottom lip between her teeth, sending a jolt of pure need straight to my cock.
So much for talking it down.
“What does that even look like?” she asked warily.
I lowered my head to hers, inhaling her intoxicating scent. Fuck, she may have looked like sin in that dress, but she smelled like innocence.
“You know exactly what it looks like,” I murmured, my voice low and rough with want.
It looked like my ring on her finger. My last name. My baby growing in her belly.
Mine.
“It looks like you in my bed every night, screaming my name while I make you come so hard you see stars.” I brushed my lips against the curve of her jaw.
A shudder rippled through her, and her thighs clenched together. I’d barely touched her, and she was already so responsive, so desperate for it, just like our first night.
“You can’t say things like that. We barely know each other.”
“I know enough.” I skimmed my knuckles up her bare thigh, feeling the goosebumps pebbling her silky skin. “I know the sounds you make when you’re about to fall apart. I know how fucking perfect you feel around my dick.”
Piper made a soft, desperate sound and latched onto my kutte before catching herself. “Stop. We had one night together.”
“And?” A muscle ticked in my jaw as I struggled to tamp down my frustration. I didn’t give a fuck if it had only been one night. I’d known she was it before ever showing up outside her hotel room, and I would burn the world to ash and destroy anyone who got in the way.
“And you can’t build a relationship off one night. Everything you think you know about me relates back to sex. It’s superficial.”
“That’s not true. I know you have a soft spot for power ballads, and your first crush was a douchebag named Rowdy. You’re a pastry chef who loves to make cinnamon rolls and...”
Fuck, I was drawing a blank.
“Wait. Weren’t you opening your own bakery?”
“My own what?” Piper blinked up at me with those gorgeous green eyes, looking confused and a little lost.
“Your own bakery,” I repeated slowly, studying her face for any flicker of recognition. “The one you were close to opening the last time we were together.”
Her expression shuttered, and she lowered her gaze, the walls coming back up in an instant. “It, uh, it didn’t work out.”
“What happened?”
“It’s a long story. And not one I want to get into right now,” she muttered, knocking back the rest of her whiskey.
The utter defeat in her voice made my chest tighten.
Who the fuck had made her look like that?
I wanted to push—to demand she tell me everything so I could hunt down and destroy the person responsible.
But I needed to tread carefully. If she knew how badly I wanted her and the lengths I would go to keep her, she’d bolt.
“Look at me.”
“Why?” she asked, picking at a loose thread on her dress.
I cupped her jaw and tilted her face up to mine until she reluctantly met my gaze. “Because I don’t want you to shut me out.”
“Who says I’m shutting you out?” Piper jutted her chin up defiantly but didn’t pull away. It was a start.
“You don’t have to say it. It’s right there in your eyes. They give you away.” I reached out to brush a loose curl behind her ear, letting my knuckles brush over her cheekbone.
A flicker of something passed over her face.
Guilt? Or was it fear?
In either case, it wasn’t the reaction I was aiming for.
“Look, I may not know what makes you laugh or how you take your coffee, but I know that night meant something for both of us,” I said, struggling to keep the desperation from bleeding into my voice.
“Tell me you haven’t thought about it like I have.” I searched her eyes for any hint of the desire I knew she still felt for me. “Tell me you don’t get wet remembering how I felt inside you.”
She hesitated before bobbing her head in a shaky nod. “I do, but things are complicated.”
There was that word again.
Complicated.
As if anything worth having ever came easy. I was a man who knew how to work for what I wanted. And god, I wanted her.
“Then let me un-complicate it for you,” I said, tracing the curve of her bottom lip with my thumb.
“But...but there’s something you should know first,” Piper stammered, her hands fluttering to my chest like she wasn’t sure whether to push me away or pull me closer.
I could see the war raging within her, the battle between her head and her heart. A better man would have backed off, but I was too far gone to stop now. I dipped my head, my lips ghosting over the racing pulse point in her neck. She let out a soft whimper as my teeth grazed her collarbone. “Whatever it is can wait.”
“Dane—”
The sound of her breathy, pleading voice shattered the last of my resolve. I tugged her head back to expose the slender column of her throat, but before I could capture her lips with mine, her phone buzzed against the bar.
Piper jolted away from me and fumbled for her phone with shaking hands. “I’m so sorry,” she said, glancing between me and the screen. “I have to take this.”
The breeze caught the hem of her dress as she stood, exposing a brief but tantalizing glimpse of the curve of her ass. It was impossible not to picture the material bunched beneath my fist as she lay across the chair, legs spread wide open and ready to be devoured. My dick strained against my zipper, the image seared into my brain permanently.
She walked a few steps away to take her call, leaving me in a state of frustrated arousal. My eyes followed the sway of her hips, and the way her dress clung to her curves. I tried to regain some semblance of control, fighting against the growl building in my throat .
“She what? Mom, slow down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
Piper’s voice raised the hairs on the back of my neck. My instincts—honed from years in dangerous situations—were on high alert.
Her hand flew to her mouth, and I was moving before I even consciously registered what was happening. I tossed down more than enough cash to cover our drinks before grabbing her purse, my chair screeching against the concrete as I strode over to where she stood.
“Which hospital?” she asked, the color draining from her face as she listened to the reply.
Her knees buckled, and I locked my arm around her waist before leading her toward the elevator.
I didn’t know who was on the other end of the call or what they were saying, but watching Piper fall apart in front of me was like being gutted with a dull knife.
“My purse,” she mumbled as we stepped into the elevator, looking around the elevator car in confusion.
“It’s right here.” I pressed the button for the lobby before turning so she could see it hanging off my shoulder.
Her lower lip quivered. “But my phone…”
“It’s in your hand, darlin’,” I said, giving her a soft squeeze. “You’re doing good. Just breathe.”
She nodded numbly and blinked at me, unshed tears turning her already gorgeous green eyes into a deep emerald. “I have to go. My daughter fell,” she choked out, her voice little more than a whisper.
Daughter?
The news was as subtle as a sledgehammer to the chest.
She had a kid. Which meant she likely had a man too.
Was that what she’d meant by complicated—baby daddy drama?
I swallowed past the knot in my throat, shoving down the irrational surge of possessiveness at the thought of her with someone else. Of her carrying another man’s child. A man I couldn’t kill without depriving her daughter of a father.
We spilled out into the hotel lobby, and Piper’s phone slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor. I scooped it up and pocketed it before steering her outside.
She clapped her palm over her mouth and lurched toward a nearby flower bed before doubling over to puke up the liquor. I held back her hair and rubbed circles over her back as she retched, quietly encouraging her to breathe.
“Shouldn’t have had that second whiskey,” she croaked when there was nothing left in her body. “I don’t know how I’m going to drive?—”
“Oh, you’re absolutely not driving,” I said firmly before guiding her over to a bench so she could sit while I searched her purse for the keys. “I am. Tell me where you’re parked.”
***
I kept sneaking glances at the car seat in the back as I drove, searching for any clues as to how old her daughter was.
Had Piper met someone after our night together?
Would he be waiting for her at the hospital?
“I need?—”
“Hang on, darlin’, we’re almost there.” I reached across the console to take her hand while navigating the early afternoon traffic like I was running from the cops.
My bike would have been faster, but I didn’t have a helmet. That, and I wasn’t entirely convinced she would have been capable of holding onto me in the state she was in.
She nodded, tears spilling down her bloodless cheeks. As I approached the exit for the children’s hospital, her fingernails dug into the flesh above my knuckles in a silent plea for me to drive faster.
“Almost there,” I muttered, pressing harder on the gas pedal.
By the time I pulled into a parking space, my skin was scored with crescent-shaped indentions. Piper sprang from the SUV before I’d even killed the engine and sprinted toward the emergency room entrance with a single-minded focus I knew all too well.
“Piper!” I called after her, pausing to grab my kutte from the backseat and slipping it on before forcing my legs into action. Christ, she was surprisingly fast for someone wearing heels.
“My daughter was brought in,” she panted as soon as she reached the front desk. “Avery. Avery Kelly.”
Was that his last name or hers?
The receptionist offered her a sympathetic smile, her fingers rapidly tapping against her keyboard. “Just one moment, ma’am.”
Less than a minute later, a nurse wearing Winnie the Pooh scrubs and a smile that didn’t quite reach her tired eyes arrived to take us back.
We moved through a labyrinth of identical hallways, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow on the white walls and linoleum floors. The air was filled with the sterile scent of disinfectant and the sounds of babies crying.
Piper held onto me, her small hand gripping mine so tightly I’d need a crowbar to pry her fingers loose.
We arrived at a nondescript door, and the nurse gently pushed it open before ushering us in. I took two steps before stumbling to a stop just inside the doorway, pressing my fist to my mouth as I took in the bloody gash on Avery’s temple. I’d seen plenty of head wounds, but never on someone so tiny.
Piper dropped my hand to rush to her daughter’s side.
“We’re trying to get her blood pressure, but little miss is not having it,” a nurse said as Avery flailed and kicked at her with a hoarse, raspy cry.
“Here, let me see if I can get her calmed down. Mama’s here,” she cooed, gently rocking her daughter in her arms. Avery clung to Piper, sucking violently on her pacifier for a few seconds before launching into another high-pitched, intense wail.
I couldn’t explain it. It was as if someone had wrapped their hand around my heart and was squeezing the life out of it. I hadn’t felt this fucking helpless since Levi.
A middle-aged woman, who I presumed was Piper’s mother, stroked a hand over the little girl’s strawberry curls before noticing me hovering in the doorway.
“Who are you?” she asked, her sharp hazel eyes narrowing when they landed on my kutte.
“Dane Riggs,” I answered, offering a hand that was pointedly ignored. “I’m a friend of Piper’s.”
She looked at me as if I were a stray dog that had wandered into their home and taken a shit on the carpet. “I see. Well, as much as I’m sure she appreciates you being here, this is a family matter, so you should probably go.”
“Mother!” Piper hissed before peering up at me. “Dane, I need?— ”
Avery jerked in her arms with a pained cry, her small body shuddering violently as if she were cold. Piper kissed the top of her head and brushed the tears from her reddened cheeks while humming softly.
“What do you need?” I asked, stepping around the five-foot-nothing obstacle in my way to reach them.
“I need you to stay,” she pleaded, her eyes welling up with fresh tears as she stroked Avery’s cheek until the cries trailed off into pitiful whimpers. “Please.”
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” I said, ignoring her mother’s disapproving glare.
“You’re letting this… biker near my granddaughter?” she retorted, clutching at her throat as if choking on the idea.
Piper’s eyes flashed in warning. “Yes, Mom. This biker has been more help in the last thirty minutes than you’ve been since we got here. Now, will someone please tell me what happened?”
“She fell out of her highchair,” she explained, looking like her daughter when she lowered her gaze to the floor.
“How many times have I told you to buckle her in?” Piper whisper-yelled through clenched teeth.
Before she could respond, another nurse entered the room, carrying a small silver instrument tray. “Looks like Mom and Dad made it here in the nick of time.”
“Absolutely not!” Piper’s mother interjected. “He is not her father.”
I imagined her face was screwed up like she’d been sucking on lemons, but I wasn’t looking at her. I was staring at Piper, who suddenly refused to meet my gaze.
The sudden tension in the room was suffocating, leaving my fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and touch her—to force her to look me in the eye.
“Okay,” the nurse conceded before checking the white plastic bracelet around Avery’s ankle. “And Avery’s date of birth?”
“February 17, 2024,” Piper replied automatically before awareness dawned on her face, and her eyes widened in horror.
I did the math in my head, counting backward from Avery’s birthdate to our night together. A wave of cold realization washed over me when I realized the timing was too perfect, too damning to be anything other than what it was.
Avery was mine.
My daughter.