Chapter 34
Chapter 34
T hey didn’t make Sully stay for the cleanup, nor would they have been able to if they tried. He rode with Poppy in the ambulance, cradling her the whole way. The EMT’s didn’t give him any guff over having to work around him, meaning one or both of them must have looked a wreck.
She and the baby were examined in the emergency room. The baby was given a clean bill of health. Despite everything, Sully smiled when he heard his little girl’s strong and fast heartbeat. A fighter, Poppy mouthed. She had long since given up trying to talk.
Her trachea sustained some damage from the strangulation. Not enough to be an emergency, but enough to be of some slight risk for collapse. They decided to keep her overnight for observation. Sully would stay too, of course. At this point it would take the Jaws of Life to pry him away.
They sprayed her throat with numbing spray. Poppy refused pain reliever, not wanting to stress the baby, but they gave her an IV to get her fluids up quickly and allowed her to sip on whatever clear liquid she chose.
“I hate broth,” she said, grimacing after she took a sip and set it aside.
“Save your voice,” Sully instructed. The scratchy whisper hurt him just from listening. He couldn’t imagine how much pain she must be in for her to sound that way.
“Better after the spray,” she said, touching her fingers gingerly to her throat. “How’d you keep Bailey away?”
Sully blinked at her, deciding how best to explain. As soon as he left his house, he made two calls, one to The Colonel and one to Cal to tell him to bottle Bailey who, predictably, wanted to come take charge of the scene, momentarily forgetting her massively protruding baby belly. Only the news that her father was coming alleviated her desire to get in the plane and shoot someone. “Cal,” Sully lied. “Must have hogtied her or something.”
She shook her head. “No good. She can get out of ropes.” She pressed her palm to his cheek. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, shaky and breathless with the nearness of losing her. He took a breath, mustered his courage, and tossed aside his pride. “Poppy, I love you so much. I’ve loved you so long, I don’t remember when I started to love you. And I don’t remember what it was like not to love you. I don’t want this to end when you no longer need my insurance. Please stay, please keep being my wife forever and ever.” Before she could respond, he decided to remind her of the one thing that definitively worked between them. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her with far more gentle tenderness than he currently wanted to.
When the kiss was over, she rested her forehead on his cheek. “You do that well, in case I’ve never said.”
He tapped her cheek, suddenly suspicious she had put him off. Eventually she looked up, eyes big and serious, and his heart plummeted. “You know what I thought when Diego talked? Before, I mean, when it was only me and him and he was giving me his psycho confessional.”
He shook his head. Speech was gone for now. “I thought how much my taste in men has improved.” She smiled and caressed his cheek with her palm. “Sully, you have no idea, no idea, how much I need and want you in my life.”
“You do?” he asked, feeling suddenly shy, something he hadn’t felt since he was a kid, if even then.
“I’ve done a lot of growing up this year, setting aside of self, focusing on our child. And along the way I realized part of that immaturity was holding on to the vision of some unknown someone. Actually it was George who helped crystallize everything in my mind. He saw everything between us I was too blind to see. He explained how easy it is to hold on to a phantom instead of the real thing. I didn’t want to do that anymore.”
“So…you’re in love with me,” he drawled.
“Excuse me, but I do believe I repeatedly said I would never marry a man for anything less than love, up to and including good insurance coverage. Also, there’s this old African proverb: When a man comes home exhausted from a long day of work, helps you make pies, and tucks you into bed while washing your face, you marry him. Or something like that. I might have the translation wrong.” She couldn’t seem to stop caressing his face, his stupidly beautiful, beloved face. “I love you so much, Sully. I didn’t dream big enough to imagine someone like you.”
“But, and not to harp on a sore subject here, you seem so obsessed with the money in your account.”
“I’m trying to save enough for a down payment on Huck’s . He’s not getting any younger, and I have plans. Big, expensive plans, Sullivan.”
“You want to buy Huck’s ?”
“Yes. I’ve already spoken to him about it. We haven’t signed papers, but it’s definitely in the works.”
He frowned, properly affronted now. “Were you ever planning to tell your husband the news you’re expanding your empire?”
“Eventually, but I can see by your tone that’s something I should have done sooner. I’ll work on it. Having a partner doesn’t come easily for me, but I’m trying, I promise I am.”
“Miss Independent,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her again. “New York was your dream,” he added as he pulled away. It was probably unfair to make her talk when he knew she was exhausted and sore, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He had spent the last few months wanting to know what went on in her head and heart and dreading the answer. Now that the news was in his favor, he wanted all of it.
“It was, yes. But here’s what I’m learning: we can have more than one dream in a lifetime. In fact, we can have a bunch. So here they are now.” She reached up to caress his cheek again. “Have an amazing marriage to the best guy I’ve ever known. Rock this motherhood thing the way my mom did. And have the best little bakery/café this side of Texas. In that order.”
“You’re going to drag our tiny burg kicking and screaming into the spotlight and make it a tourist attraction, aren’t you?” he asked.
“I guarantee it,” she said.
“I adore you, you crazy insane career-obsessed gypsy.” He leaned in to kiss her again.
When they parted this time, she checked the clock. “You haven’t slept in two days. You should probably get going.”
He snickered.
“What?” she asked.
“You said ‘git.’”
“I did no such thing,” she argued.
“You’re becoming a Texas girl, through and through.”
“Oh, have mercy,” she replied, thumping her head on his shoulder.
“Maybe you always were, at heart. Maybe that’s why I’ve always liked you so much,” he mused.
“No, I’m citified, and I’m going to take our daughter on yearly pilgrimages to New York so she’ll have some culture.”
“Hey now, the hog calling contest is next week. That’s culture.”
“I know, I was asked to make pig-shaped cookies for it,” she said.
“That’s nice,” he mused, yawning.
“Nice, nothing. I’m charging two dollars a pig.”
He snorted a laugh in the middle of his yawn and kissed her. Life with Poppy would never be boring, and Sully would have it no other way.