Chapter 29
Chapter 29
T he next day Sully and Poppy spent exploring with Sasha and George, showing them the sights of San Antonio. Poppy invited Jane and Blue, which seemed odd to Sully, and odder still when he saw Blue and Poppy exchanging secret hand signals. He would never understand the woman, never.
Jane planned the outing, despite the fact that it was practically Sully’s second hometown. But after the day started he set aside his dismay and enjoyed the adventure. They went places he’d never seen, never even heard of.
“How did you find these places?” he asked Jane.
“Jane’s a woman of many talents,” Blue answered for her. They hadn’t set a date for their wedding yet, but he looked at her with so much devotion Sully bet they’d be married within the year. Lucky stiffs.
When the sun set, they took a ghost tour, something else Sully had never considered. He didn’t believe in ghosts, but it was still a hoot, and he enjoyed hearing all the stories and history. Poppy was squished beside him, shifting uncomfortably.
“How’re you holding up?” he asked, his hand rubbing the secret spot on her back.
“Fine,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder with a sleepy yawn.
“Are you having fun with your friends?”
“Yes. Do you like them?” She opened her eyes wider to survey him, as if his answer was important to her. He chose his words carefully.
“Yes. Sasha’s an interesting character. I wouldn’t want to face her in a poker game or boardroom, but as a friend she’s fun.” He brushed the stray hairs off her face and kissed her forehead.
“And George,” she pressed.
“I think George seems like a fine specimen of humanity.”
“But…” she prompted.
“But I like him better far away in New York.” He gave her ponytail a light tug. “The better question is what do you think of your friends? You don’t seem as happy to see them as I thought you’d be.”
“No, I am, really. But we’ve both been working so hard, and I…I was looking forward to some family time, just the two of us.” She reached up to brush the hair at his temple that was always mashed flat after he removed his hat.
“In a few days, we’re going to go to your doctor’s appointment, and then we’re going to have a date.”
“You promised me epic,” she reminded him.
“I think finding out what’s growing in here is kind of epic,” he said, pressing his hand to her belly.
“Totally epic,” she agreed, covering his hand with hers.
Sully drew in a breath, inhaling her scent, and that was when it hit him. He loved this woman. Beyond attraction, beyond duty, beyond frustration, beyond the baby, he was totally and completely in love with Poppy Dunbar. How did it happen? Where did it come from? He had spent his entire life searching for a lightning bolt of ever-after magic. It never once occurred to him it could steal over him like the whisper of a breeze.
“What?” Poppy asked, ornery smile always hovering on the periphery. “Did you actually see a ghost?” She turned to stare out the window.
“Poppy,” he rasped.
She regarded him again, her amusement morphing to concern. “Sully? Everything okay?”
He couldn’t tell her, not knowing where she stood, not with the man everyone considered to be her destiny hovering in the background. “You’re my girl,” he said instead.
Her smile returned in a flash, cheeks dimpling. “You think so?”
“Darlin’, I know it,” he said,
“We’ll see,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder again. He kissed the top of it. We’ll see, wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement, but with Poppy every concession was monumental. And now that Sully realized the truth, he would never let her go, no matter what.
The next morning, George and Sasha left, but not before George asked to take Poppy for a walk. They were gone for a long, long time while Sully attempted to make idle small talk with Sasha, who was surly until at least noon and four cups of coffee. And then, if he was being honest, she only had about an hour of pleasant cheerfulness before she turned surly again. Even so, Sully liked her. No one ever had to wonder where he stood with her, as witnessed by her oh-so-glowing assessment of him: “You’re a country bumpkin, rube, hick, yokel, but you’re so darn sweet and hot I can’t decide whether to adore or pity you.” With flattery like that, how could she be anything but beloved?
When George and Poppy returned from their walk, they both looked resolved about something. Poppy wouldn’t give in to Sully’s glances so he could attempt to read her eyes, not that it would do him much good. The woman would likely always remain a puzzling mystery.
They said goodbye to their guests in ways that suited them both—Poppy with hugs and Sully with handshakes. They remained staring out the door until Sasha’s rental car was far out of sight, and then Sully couldn’t take it anymore.
“Poppy.” He faced her, but she dodged his glance again, staring hard at his chest as she raveled her fingers in the string of his hoodie.
“Sully, I’m so exhausted. Could we maybe lie on the couch today and watch movies?”
He wanted to know what happened with George but, knowing Poppy, she would only tell him when she was ready. And then she would only tell him as much as she wanted him to know. “Are you asking to cuddle?”
She nodded, finally meeting his gaze. Her eyes looked fragile, wounded, and so weary. He cupped her face and leaned in to whisper. “Only if you find something ridiculously sappy I’ll pretend to hate, something with singing, perhaps.”
She beamed at him. “I promise not to tell the other Rangers when you sing along.”
He kissed her cheek and let her go. She found a movie and they lay on the couch in what had become their normal position, Sully in the back, Poppy tucked against him in a cuddly embrace. His hand settled on her bump, thumb easing over a navel that was starting to protrude like a second nose. He was fascinated by every change in her body, enamored with it, practically obsessed with her feminine softness. He had no understanding of men who found pregnancy repulsive. To Sully it was the pinnacle of female desirability.
Poppy, prescient as ever, read his mind. “Are you still going to like me when I’m not pregnant anymore?”
“I’m always going to like you,” he assured her, his voice a velvet whisper in her ear.
She snuggled closer and brought his hand to her mouth, kissing his palm. “We’ll see.”
He rolled his eyes, ready to do battle, but it was too late; she was already asleep.
T hree days later, they sat in Poppy’s doctor’s office. Sully stepped out of the room while she changed into the little paper gown, but now he was back and gripping her hand, trying to calm both their nerves. This was it, go time. He was about to catch the first glimpse of their baby. From this moment on, there was no more pretending it wasn’t real and happening. He was a father. He was ecstatic; he was terrified.
They were quiet, each lost in a world of future dreams and present nerves. After this Sully had an entire day of adventure planned, a new art museum, an up and coming restaurant. Cynically he wondered if any of it would matter. How could everything after this feel like anything but a letdown? They were going to find out the sex of their child. Nothing on earth was as amazing as that.
“Epic day,” Poppy whispered.
“The epicest,” Sully agreed, and she laughed.
“Boy or girl?” she asked.
“It will definitely be one of those,” he agreed.
“You’re so silly.” She reached up to ruffle his hair, attempting to un-hat the mashed portions.
“And you’re so…” he trailed off, unable to finish. Unreachable, was what he most wanted to say. They’d had a pleasant few days, after Sasha and George left. But Poppy’s rental house was fixed, and she moved back home, leaving his house empty without her laughing, warm presence. They both returned to work, meaning they only saw each other for a few exhausted moments in the evening. Beyond that, something was different with her, and he didn’t know what. She still wouldn’t tell him what happened with George, but she’d been more aloof, less settled. Did she miss New York? Or, worse, did she miss George specifically? The unending confusion made his brain hurt.
He pressed his nose to her neck and inhaled. “You smell amazing.”
“Vanilla oozes from my pores now,” she said, now rifling her fingers through the back of his head.
He licked her. “Yep, I taste it.”
She giggled and ducked away from him. “That tickles. What kind of weirdo licks a pregnant lady?”
The kind who can’t get enough, he thought and some of his desperation must have shown in his eyes because she blinked once, solemn and surprised. Their gazes locked and the tension from the pie making night returned with force. It had been absent for days, but now it was back and seemed to have picked up where it left off.
“A bad time to be wearing a paper gown,” she whispered.
“I’m about to have so many paper cuts,” he whispered.
She snorted another laugh and the door opened. Sully sat back, now smoothing his own hand over his hair. He only hoped the doctor couldn’t read minds the way Poppy could. Either way, he was certain his cheeks were flaming.
The doctor greeted Poppy, shook hands with Sully, and sat on a stool at the end of the exam table. She picked up the ultrasound wand. “Are we finding out the sex today?”
“Yes,” Sully and Poppy agreed in unison.
“Here we go.” She dumped a glop of jelly on Poppy’s bare belly, and the ultrasound began. For a few seconds, she didn’t speak, simply moved the wand and took pictures on the machine. Then the wand froze and the anticipation built to the breaking point.
“See those three lines?” she said. Poppy and Sully leaned forward, trying to see what she so clearly saw. “That’s your little girl. Congratulations.”
“You’re sure?” Poppy breathed.
“Absolutely,” the doctor said.
Poppy and Sully didn’t speak or even look at each other while the doctor worked, though they did grip each other like a lifeline, almost afraid to take their eyes off the screen unless it became unreal.
The doctor printed a string of pictures and left them alone. “A girl,” Poppy breathed.
“A girl,” Sully said, his voice equally unsteady.
“Are you sad?” she asked, turning luminous eyes on him.
“Sad? Why would I be sad?” he asked.
“Sometimes men want boys,” she said.
“No, Poppy, hey.” He tipped her chin toward his. “I love girls.”
“Obviously,” she said, gesturing toward the bump. He rolled his eyes and she giggled, and that was it, he was broken. He pressed forward and kissed her with far, far too much intention.
At last she gave him a little shove. “I need to change out of the paper.”
He nodded and reached for his hat. He dropped it, bent to retrieve it, and bashed his head on the side of the table.
“You doing okay there, Ranger?” she asked, fully amused now.
“No, I’m dying,” he said. He stood, pressed the hat onto his head, kissed his finger, and touched it to her lips. “Hurry up so we can get on with our epic day.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied with feigned meekness.
He eased backwards out of the room, reluctant to be apart for even a minute. Once he was safely outside, he leaned on the door and sucked oxygen. Unknown to him, he was still holding the string of baby pictures. Unable to stand it any longer, he took a picture of one of them, the one marked “girl,” and sent it to his mom. She replied a minute later with a series of emojis and symbols he could in no way discern or interpret.
“Did you text everyone?” Poppy asked when she finally emerged.
“Just my mom,” he said. “I’ll leave the rest to you.”
She removed her phone. Her thumbs blurred as the text went out. A few minutes later, it began to chirp with all of the returns. “Maybe that was a mistake,” she said, switching her phone to silent while she stood in line to pay the bill.
“I’m paying today,” he declared.
“Sully,” she intoned.
“Poppy,” he returned.
“I’ve been saving for this,” she said.
He gave her a look but otherwise didn’t comment. When she sighed, he was fairly certain he won, but even so he had to hide his shock when it was their turn and the clerk told him the amount. A thousand dollars? How was that possible? He handed over his credit card, giving Poppy a side eye she studiously avoided. She had been careful not to tell him how much anything cost, so careful never to discuss her finances or health insurance, beyond stating she had everything covered.
“May I please see a breakdown of cost for the delivery?” he said, giving the clerk his most charming smile. It worked a little too well and she became flustered, shuffling papers until she finally remembered what she reached for. She handed it over.
“Of course that’s merely our portion. There will also be the hospital admission, pediatrician, anesthesiologist, and any incidentals like a NICU stay, if one is needed.”
“Thank you,” Sully said, his eyes already scanning the paper. He gathered Poppy by the bicep and pulled her out of the office and to the car. She was silent and still, looking anywhere but at him.
He opened her car door, closed it, slid behind the wheel, put his key in the ignition, and turned to face her. “Three thousand dollars.”
“That’s pretty standard,” she said.
“Three thousand dollars, and that’s just your ObGyn. How much will the hospital cost?” he demanded.
She swallowed hard. “My portion after insurance will probably be about fifteen thousand dollars.”
He blinked at her. “You don’t have that kind of money.”
“I do. I will ,” she stubbornly insisted, and some of her undying work ethic began to make sense. She was killing herself trying to amass enough money not to end up bankrupt. Sully had money, and she could have it, but even so it would barely be enough. It would drain his savings dry. He studied her, his breath rasping out in frustrated, panicky gasps. This was what she’d been dealing with, all these months, the knowledge that her insurance was worth almost nothing, that this baby would cost her everything and then some. And all this time she’d been carrying the burden on her own, blindly stumbling toward disaster, pushing herself beyond her limits.
“You can’t know how much I want to turn you over my knee,” he said.
“Weird,” she replied, seemingly unconcerned.
“Poppy.”
She put up a hand. “I’m taking care of it, Sully, okay? I have nearly ten thousand dollars in the bank and months left to earn the rest.”
“Unless you get sick. Unless the baby gets sick. Unless you get in an accident. Unless Huck’s burns down, unless…”
She held up a hand, cutting him off again. “Stop it, none of those things will happen. I’m handling it. I’ve got it under control.”
“What you once again fail to consider is that you are not alone and this self-enforced punishment is completely unnecessary. Do you know how much it would cost a month to add you and the baby to my insurance?”
She shook her head, pressing her hands to her ears. He pulled them off. “A hundred dollars,” he said loudly. “I have a thousand dollar deductible. A thousand dollars, Poppy. That’s what it would cost you to have a baby on my insurance.”
“So, what,” she said, annoyed now. “You’re asking me to marry you again for the insurance.”
“No, I’m telling you. We are getting married, and you’re going on my insurance. And my life insurance. And you’re moving in with me and giving up your crummy, water-damaged rental. And we’re getting you a car,” he said, jutting his finger in her face.
“Anything else?” she asked, tone deathly quiet, lips pressed tightly together.
“Maybe a dog,” he said, shrugging. In for a penny, in for a pound.
She gave him the death stare, her blinks slow and measured. He prepared himself for her blast of temper. He should have prepared more or better. “All right.”
His head thumped against the door, his hat now tipped to the ceiling. “What?”
“Okay, I’ll marry you.”
“Oh, okay. We’ll put something together as soon as possible.”
She shook her head. “Today. Right now.”
Was she trying to call his bluff? Waiting for him to bolt in panic? If so, she was about to be disappointed. “Fine.” He started the car and headed toward downtown. “We have to get rings.”
“I don’t want a ring.”
“You’re getting a ring,” he said, daring her to argue.
“My hands are in dough all day every day,” she reminded him.
“Fine, we’ll get somethin’ cheap.”
“Flatterer,” she muttered.
His lips twitched as he pulled into the nearest Wal-Mart and parked the car. “Don’t make me laugh when I’m trying to maintain my anger.”
“Don’t try to sound rational when you’re clearly in the midst of some sort of breakdown,” she returned.
“Deal.” He came around, helped her out of the car, and led her to the ring section. “Look around, I’ll be right back. I have to use the little Ranger’s room.”
“More info than I ever needed to know,” she muttered, leaning close to peer at the ring selection. Sully darted out of sight and withdrew his phone, praying it would be answered. It was.
“’Sup”
“You answer the phone like a man,” Sully accused.
“Shocking,” Bailey replied. “Congratulations on the girl. Our turn next week. Bet you twenty bucks it’s a boy.”
“You’re on, but the baby’s not why I’m calling. It’s Poppy.”
“What about her?” she asked, all amusement gone now.
“We’re getting married.”
A pause. “Hurray? Why do you sound like that? I thought this was what you wanted.”
“It was, is . But in true Poppy fashion she’s demanding it happen now, right now. We’re at Wal-Mart picking out rings.”
“What? No, absolutely not. I want to be there, my parents want to be there, Jane will want to be there. Tell her she can’t.”
“Hi, have you met your sister?”
Bailey blew out a breath. “I could throttle her.”
“Get in line. But if I don’t do it now, she might pull a runner.”
“You’re right, she’s fast and wily. Are you going to the courthouse?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll get there, just stall her, okay?”
“I don’t…”
“I said stall,” Bailey snapped.
Sully came to attention, and he’d never even been a soldier. “Yes, Major. I’ll do my best.”
“Your best isn’t good enough. I swear, Sullivan, I love you like a brother, but if my sister gets married without me, you’ll regret it the rest of your life.”
“Absolutely. It is all about you, after all,” he said, full sarcasm now.
She let out a breath. “Sorry, but Poppy will regret it, too. I know she will. With me there, it will be real. Trust me, I know Poppy, even if I disagree with her flighty nonsense ninety nine percent of the time.”
“Fine, I’ll stall. But you’d better hurry.”
“Hmm, it’s cute how you think you can order me around. But I will hurry.” She hung up without saying goodbye.
“Entire family is mental,” Sully said, shoving his phone in his pocket and whirling to go back to Poppy. His fiancée.