Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The Ranch
“You’re insane,” I blurted out. “I can’t be pregnant.”
“Are you having sex regularly with Brooks?” Muddy asked as she came fully into the room and shut the pocket doors.
“That’s rhetorical, right?” Salem asked.
“But it’s too early to know for sure,” I insisted. “I haven’t missed a period. And I always cry at sad things. This vole funeral thing is—of course it would make me cry.”
“Funeral,” Hadley’s lip wobbled.
“Suck it in,” I commanded. “We don’t have time for your hormones.”
Hadley nodded. “You’re right. Sorry.”
“It might be too soon for a test,” Muddy said as she took a seat on the hearth bench. “But I just know things.”
I frowned and then my eyes widened. “You said I wasn’t done with surprises.”
“I did say that, yes,” Muddy agreed with a nod.
“When did you say that?” Salem asked her grandmother.
“At the shooting range. Not even an hour ago,” I explained. “Oh my God. I’m about to panic.”
“This is fucking amazing!” Salem yelled.
I glared at her. “How do you figure?”
“Uh, the three of us, hello? Having babies together,” Salem said. “This is kind of like kismet.”
“Fate,” Hadley agreed with a happy smile. “Good thing you’re already engaged.”
“Oh, is this like a shotgun engagement?” Salem queried. “Congrats, by the way. You crazy kids.”
Hadley sniggered. “Poet and Brooks are on the Muddy and Grandpa path.”
Salem nibbled her lip. “Does Brooks suspect you’re pregnant? Do you think that’s why he—”
“No. He has no idea. He proposed because he loves me. I said yes because I love him.”
“Okay, I was just asking,” Salem said. “You do you.”
“Are you worried about what he’s going to say?” Hadley asked.
I snorted. “Brooks? No. He wants a family. Like yesterday. Oh no . . . I have to tell my grandfather. I was just getting up the nerve to tell him I moved to Huckleberry Hill and that I’m engaged.
Now he’s going to find out he’s about to be a great-grandfather?
” I rubbed my temple. “Guess Brooks is getting his wish.”
“What wish?” Hadley asked.
“A wedding. Sooner rather than later,” I stated.
“Yay.” Hadley rapidly clapped her hands like a cartoon character.
I scowled at her.
“What?” she demanded.
“I’m pretty sure Grampy is going to kill Brooks with his bare hands.”
“He’s a professor,” Muddy said. “Doesn’t he wear tweed?”
“Navy man,” I explained. “Vietnam.”
“Oh,” Muddy said with a sigh.
“He’s going to think I’ve gone mental,” I said.
“Or he’s going to think you fell in love,” Hadley said.
“Same thing,” Salem muttered.
“Mental,” I repeated.
Even though the pocket doors of the den were closed, I heard the unmistakable clomp of heavy boots on the wooden floor.
“Not a word. To anyone. I mean it,” I stated.
Salem mimed zipping her lips shut.
I looked at Muddy. “What are the chances you’re wrong?”
“I’m not wrong,” Muddy announced.
There was a knock on the den doors.
“Come in,” Muddy called.
The doors slid open, and Brooks appeared. “What’s going on?”
We were silent. Hadley and Salem looked at me.
Finally, I blurted out, “Muddy’s giving me the money for the bookstore.”
“That’s good news,” he said, his eyes bouncing around the entire room, landing on everyone before settling onto me. “Why don’t you look more excited?”
“I’m in shock,” I said.
“Yeah, shock,” Hadley added with a nod.
“We just found that out,” Salem said.
My heart drummed in my ears as Brooks’ gaze remained on me. Like he was trying to decipher what was really going on.
Tension swelled in the room.
Muddy rose. “I’m headed to the bank.”
“I’ll come too,” I said quickly. “I need a ride back to town, anyway.”
“I’ll meet you at the truck,” Muddy said, sidling past Brooks.
My phone rang and I fished it out of my pocket. Wyn’s name flashed across the screen. I silenced her call and pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Freckles?” Brooks asked.
“Headache,” I mumbled. “Lack of sleep, I think.”
“He called her freckles,” Salem stage-whispered to Hadley.
“I heard,” Hadley murmured. “Cute.”
I walked toward Brooks and slipped past him out of the den.
“Are you okay?” he asked me, his tone pitched low.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied.
“Okay,” he said, but he didn’t sound like he believed me. “I’ll see you later.”
“Later,” I agreed with a nod.
I left the house and climbed into Muddy’s truck. She already had the engine going. She was silent as we pulled out of the driveway.
I barely registered walking into the bank with her. An hour later, I walked out with a business bank account.
“Did I say thank you?” I asked her. “I don’t remember if I said thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sugar.” She smiled. “I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.”
I impulsively hugged her, my arms tightening around her.
“You’ll be okay,” she whispered.
And I knew she wasn’t talking about the bookstore.
“Hey, Poet! Congratulations!”
My hand was on the doorknob of Sweet Teeth. I turned and saw Brooks’ brother jog across the street toward me.
“I just heard the news,” Archer said with a wide grin. “And I couldn’t be happier for you. And for Brooks.”
“How did you know?” I asked, my mind whirling.
He frowned. “What do you mean how did I know? Brooks told me.”
“Brooks?”
“Yeah. He told me this morning that he popped the question last night and you said yes.”
I swallowed and my foggy brain finally cleared. “Oh. Oh, right.” I forced a smile to my lips. “Thank you.”
He scanned my face with curious eyes. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
“I’m always pale.”
The door to the bakery opened, causing me to jump back, startled. I moved off to the side to allow the customers to exit.
“Bandit? Oh my God, what the hell are you doing here!”
I looked away from Archer to stare at the man who’d just called him Bandit.
“Smoke!” Archer yelled in excitement.
The two men embraced quickly, and the man named Smoke pulled back and slapped him on the back.
There was a heavily pregnant woman with him—she and I exchanged confused glances but otherwise said nothing.
“What are you doing in Huckleberry Hill?” Smoke asked Archer.
“I work at Elk Ridge—farrier,” Archer explained. “You?”
Smoke wrapped an arm around the woman standing next to him. “Get the fuck out. Logan’s parents and brothers are currently building a house at Elk Ridge.”
My eyes widened. “You’re John and Stella’s daughter?”
The young woman who looked to be about my age smiled. “Yeah. You know them?”
I nodded.
“We’re up for a visit from Waco,” Smoke explained. “Before the baby comes.”
“Congrats, man,” Archer said.
Smoke’s gaze turned to me, and he waited.
“Oh, sorry,” Archer said with a rueful smile. “This is Poet.”
“Your Old Lady?” Smoke asked with an assuming smile.
“Not my Old Lady. My brother’s,” Archer said.
“Shut the fuck up. I thought Ripper was with—”
“Brooks,” Archer interrupted. “He goes by Brooks now. He works at Elk Ridge with me as a horse groomer.”
“Brooks,” Smoke said, turning the name over in his mouth. “He got out a few years ago, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Archer said.
An awkward pall settled over the four of us. Logan squeezed Smoke’s fingers.
“Right, we gotta get going,” Smoke said, holding his free hand out to Archer. “Good seeing you, brother.”
“You too,” Archer said.
“I’m in town a few more days. You and Rip—Brooks—have time to grab a beer and catch up?” Smoke asked, his gaze darting to me before returning to Archer.
“Yeah. Definitely.” Archer nodded. “Where are you guys staying?”
“The Regal Beagle,” Smoke said.
“Cute place,” I murmured.
“Very cute,” Logan agreed.
“Nice meeting you, Poet,” Smoke said.
“You too.”
Smoke and Logan crossed the street, leaving me alone with Archer.
Alone with Archer, and a ton of questions.
I turned to stare at him. To his credit, he was staring back and not attempting to look anywhere else.
“That’s Smoke,” Archer said unnecessarily.
“So I gathered.”
“He’s originally from the same MC chapter that Brooks and I were in. But he and a couple other brothers moved down to Waco and joined the chapter there a couple of years ago.”
“Uh huh.”
He fell silent.
“Why did he call you Bandit?”
“That was my road name. It’s the name your biker brothers give you,” he said slowly.
I swallowed. “Brooks’ name is Ripper?”
He nodded.
“Smoke thought Brooks was with someone else,” I stated. “He was trying to ask about her. But you interrupted.”
Archer stilled and his hands clenched.
“He was involved with someone else, wasn’t he?” I asked. “There was another woman. There’s a woman in his past—and he hasn’t told me about her. He told me he didn’t have girlfriends.”
Archer let out a long exhale. “Fuck, Poet. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“How about the truth,” I clipped.
“It’s not for me to tell,” he said.
“Coward.”
His jaw clenched. “He’s my brother. I won’t betray him. He’ll tell you, or he won’t. It’s for him to decide, not me.”
“Bandit and Ripper. Guess you won’t tell me how you got those road names, hmm?”
When he continued to stare at me without saying a word, I knew.
It’s bad.
“He was never going to tell me any of it, was he?” I asked, my voice so soft I wondered if I’d even said the words aloud.
“He’s not that man anymore,” Archer said. “Neither of us are the men we used to be. Please remember that when you talk to him.”
“I don’t think I truly know him at all, do I?”
Without waiting for a reply, I marched up to the apartment—the apartment I shared with a man I didn’t know.
A man whose baby I was carrying.