Chapter 26 Penelope
TWENTY-SIX
PENELOPE
Lamaze class was stupid.
Really fucking lame.
Okay, maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I had a partner, but because I didn’t, it was stupid.
I was surrounded by happy couples who had loving partners stroke their bellies and help them breathe.
I eyed one couple with so much envy that I nearly cried.
The two women were so verbally supportive of each other, one constantly stroking the other's hair, telling her how beautiful and strong she was.
Telling her she was going to be the best mother to their child.
I wanted to crawl out of my skin from jealousy.
I should have asked Natty, Callie or Laura to go with me. Or all three for fuck’s sake. Anything but being alone.
I knew Harris was right outside, keeping watch, but there was something humiliating when I considered asking him. I couldn’t have someone I saw as a pseudo father figure sitting behind me, helping me breathe through contractions.
I wanted Jameson but I had completely forgotten I’d had this class today, since we’d just gotten back the night before from our trip, and I hadn’t seen him to ask if he’d want to go. There was also the little issue of him not responding to my question from dinner the other night.
Why hadn’t he fought for me?
He obviously had feelings for me, consistent ones from the sounds of it, and yet he never started anything, he never made a move…he never tried, and the first time Luke even tiptoed into the picture, it was like Jamie just gave up.
The reminder of the phone call I’d gotten right after class slammed into me once more. Cold and harsh, leaving a trail of dread in its wake.
It started with a text from an unfamiliar number.
How have you been, Pen?
My gut swarmed with nerves as I considered who it might be, my assumption being Luke. I ignored it.
Then another text came in.
I really need to talk to you.
Again, I had ignored it because even if Luke had started reaching out, I absolutely would not be talking to him.
After class, I saw that I’d had three missed calls and right as I was checking one came through as I walked to my car. Once I slid inside and shut the door, I answered.
“Hello?”
A hesitant pause and then, “hey Pen, it’s Luke.”
“I know it’s you, asshole!” I had screamed.
He paused again.
“How are you doing?”
I laughed, with my whole chest until tears started streaming down my face. “How am I doing? You’re asking me how I’m doing?”
I didn’t give him a chance to respond.
“I’m angry, Luke. I’m hurt and alone. I’m pregnant with your kid, in case you forgot.
I’m due in a little over a week because he’s measuring early and so fucking big that they’re worried about having to do a C-section.
I can’t sleep because I have such bad heartburn, and I have to pee every five seconds.
My ankles hurt. I can’t work, so I have no money.
I have nothing for this baby. I moved to a new city, with a new club that were rivals with us just a year ago.
I’m scared, and you rejected me, Luke. In the worst possible way, so why the fuck are you asking me how I’m doing? ”
“Jesus, Pen. I just wanted to test the waters; thought asking how you were would be a good way to start.”
“Well, now you know.”
He let out a sigh, as if I were inconveniencing him. “I know it’s my kid, and even if I’m not ready to be a dad, it’s my responsibility. So, I can send some money, make sure you get what you need for the baby. Would that be okay?”
“How would you send it, Luke?” I knew for a fact he only had cash from brokering illegal deals, which meant the money wouldn’t be going into a bank.
The clubs didn’t have one they trusted, so only their funds made through club-run businesses went into the bank.
Whatever he’d done with Jefferson would be cash.
“I have money, Pen. A fuck ton of it after a deal we just made.”
I scoffed, knowing he had no clue how the club actually ran its money or how they worked those larger deals. It wouldn’t do any good to tell him either. “You and your new friend, Jefferson, the guy who killed some of your brothers?”
The memory of hearing those gunshots from Miles’ house still made my blood chill.
It was partly why I had such a difficult time sleeping.
Jefferson had walked in, put a few bullets in a few heads, and then seized the club.
Jamie had arrived only minutes later, sneaking in through my back door, telling me to pack my things, as much as I could, and that we had to leave right then.
Luke paused for a long time. “I have money I can give you.”
“I don’t want your fucking money, Luke. I want nothing from you.”
“Well, it’s still my kid, so…” he argued, and I nearly threw my phone.
“I have to go.”
“Wait!” he yelled, and my thumb hovered over the end button when his next question stopped me. “Is it true that you married Jameson?”
He had the audacity to sound hurt. For some reason I didn’t want to tell him. I felt like I was in a bubble and I didn’t want it to pop, regardless of how frustrated I was with Jameson, I still felt like I owed him the loyalty not to tell his enemy that he’d gotten married.
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Luke. I heard you lost your dick to syphilis…was that true?”
“Very fucking funny, Penelope,” he growled.
I rolled my eyes and ended the call.
I wiped my eyes and started the car, then headed toward the Stone Riders’ property.
With a quick glance in the rearview mirror, I saw Harris trailing me and wondered if he’d seen me yelling in my car.
A flush of embarrassment brushed against my face, but I pushed on.
Oh well, nothing I could do about it now.
The cabin came into view as I slowed my speed and put the car in park. Jameson was already there, walking out of the house the moment my car stopped. He opened my door for me and helped me out.
“Hey.” His brown eyes searched my face, as if he knew I’d just had a screaming match with my ex.
I slammed the door shut as Harris drove past us, giving Jamie a salute.
“Can I make you some lunch?” Jamie asked, and for some reason, his offer broke me. I began to cry, pulling my hands up to my face to cover the tears because I was just so fucking exhausted from fighting all my emotions.
He curled an arm around me and pulled me into the house.
I didn’t remember how he did it, but he got me out of my jacket and shoes, and on the bed, propped up with pillows. Then he was walking in with a wooden tray; a sandwich, fresh fruit and a pudding cup was arranged in a neat way, along with a slim glass cup with wildflowers.
More tears streamed. “Jamie.” My voice cracked as he set the tray down, over my stomach.
Before I could open my mouth again, he bent over and pressed his lips to mine in a gentle kiss. He lingered there, moving his lips over mine until I was composed enough to face him. Then he sat down next to me, while I ate.
“I didn’t know you had an appointment today; I would have gone with you.”
I sipped from the can of sparkling water he’d brought and relaxed into the pillows.
“I know, but you were gone this morning and I’d forgotten about it until the last minute.”
“Text me next time, even if I’m gone. I’ll cancel what I’m doing.”
Dipping my chin, I bit into a strawberry because I couldn’t cry again. I really just couldn’t.
“What happened in the appointment today, is everything okay?” He stroked my arm soothingly.
“It was just a birthing class, Lamaze.”
His eyes snapped up to mine. “Oh…shit, guess we haven’t really talked about that yet.”
“About me giving birth. Why would we?”
I had never once assumed Jameson would want to be a part of my birth, just like he hadn’t been a part of my appointments.
He shifted on the bed, lifting his knee so he was facing me more fully. “Because you’re my wife, and I want to be there for you.”
I bit into my sandwich, and while I was chewing, Jameson took advantage and kept talking.
“Not just you…” His eyes dropped to my stomach. “For him too.”
I stopped chewing and swallowed everything until I could clearly ask, “what?”
I thought back to the wedding when his mother had grabbed his hand and forced him to feel my stomach. Even since then, he hadn’t touched my stomach of his own volition.
“I know in the beginning I was a jerk, not showing up when you needed me. But I tried, even when everything was so up in the air, I was trying, Pen. Now that things are a little more settled, and we have this between us.” He lifted his gold wedding band. “I want to correct my fuck-up and ask.”
“Ask what?” I was so hesitant, my heart reaching for something I had begged it time and time again not to hope for. Jameson was notoriously bad with leading me on and then crushing me.
He searched my face, brushing a rogue strand of hair off my face. “Everything.”
“Okay, we have Mac, Connor, Nate, Cruise, Jackson and Miller.” Jameson went down the list of names we’d written on the pad of paper over the past hour, and then he crossed something off.
“What did you cross off?” I asked, while stirring in the diced onion to the skillet. Jameson had been making so many of our meals, I told him to let me cook tonight.
He was sitting close to me with the pad of paper in his hand. He wore a simple white t-shirt and threadbare jeans that had holes in varying places. It was one of my favorite looks on him, with his wheat colored hair pushed back and brown eyes focused on the baby names we were coming up with.
We. I nearly melted on the spot after he’d suggested it an hour ago.
He had all these questions about my past appointments, and if I liked my doctor here in Rose Ridge.
He asked if the baby was healthy and what sort of delivery I’d considered.
He asked if I’d picked out any names, and when I told him no, he stood up from the bed, found a pad and said we’d need to fix that.
“Cruise is not an acceptable name, every time I hear it out loud, I cringe.”