18. Logan
18
LOGAN
Somehow, and by somehow, I mean that Poppy has to have had a hand in it, there is a party taking place in my backyard.
Not only that, but there are prospects for the MC that Poppy’s dad is a part of standing as security at the end of my driveway, making sure that no one who doesn’t belong is here.
“I’m sorry, sir.” One of them waves me down when I turn and stop to ask them what the hell they are doing on my property. “You’re not allowed on this property.”
If they weren’t so damn eager, I might have shot one of them.
“I live here.” I stare at the man until it gets uncomfortable. “So if you’re not going to shoot me, then get the fuck out of my way before I show you why you’re a prospect.”
Apparently, he sees how serious I am because he gets the hell out of the road and lets me pass.
Sam is waiting for me when I get out of the truck and slam the door an hour after leaving Poppy at the cemetery with him. “I take it I’m having a party.”
“No.” Sam shakes his head. “Poppy’s having a party. Remember? The baby shower?”
No. No, I definitely do not remember the fact that I’m having a baby shower, hosted at my house, with a bunch of people whom I don’t want to see right now. I want to take a hot shower, have a beer, and convince my woman to get naked with me on the living room floor so that I can beg for her forgiveness while I’m inside her.
“Thanks for the text,” I tell him. “I can’t believe she thought it was a good idea to just take off.”
Sam just stares at me, and I see a struggle in his eyes.
“You know what?” He shakes his head. “No. Not happening. I sent you a text because you deserve to know. But Poppy’s more than capable of taking care of herself. Not only did she call me, but I saw the brass knuckles in the pocket of her leggings, and I know she doesn’t go anywhere without pepper spray. She wasn’t being stupid or taking unnecessary chances. Honestly, she was overly cautious.” He checks over his shoulder to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “You screwed up, not her. You can’t keep her in the dark and expect her not to push back against your imaginary walls when she doesn’t know why they’re there in the first place.”
I thought having my little brother tell me to pull my head out of my ass about my feelings for Poppy was the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever gone through this year. I was wrong.
The worst is having Poppy’s brother, one of my oldest friends in the entire world, remind me that I’m being a jackass.
“I’m a dick,” I admit, knowing that I need to put words to it. “You’re absolutely right. I just want to keep her safe and I don’t know how to do that without being a dick.”
The front door opens, and Poppy stands there, looking like a supermodel. A pregnant supermodel, but a supermodel nonetheless. Her long red hair is down, and her curls have to be tamed with something because they aren’t frizzy in the slightest. She has on a black tunic dress with a ribbon wrapped and tied right above her bump, and her legs are bare. To top it off, she is wearing a pair of those flat shoes with bright-blue heels that she convinced me are good for her feet, even if they’re like two hundred bucks a pair.
“I love her,” I tell Sam. “It’s like I could breathe before, but I didn’t understand I was only taking half breaths. And then she almost died in front of me again, and I realized I wasn’t even breathing. Not really. Now… Now I’m finally breathing.”
With one hand on her stomach, Poppy smiles and winks at me before turning back into the house where I can see her father waiting for her.
“She loves you, you know.” Sam nudges me. “Even if she won’t marry you because you knocked her up.”
He leaves me standing there with my mouth hanging open while he stops to drink with some of the other bikers who showed up to support me and Poppy.
“She’s gonna marry me,” I tell his back.
“Good luck with that,” Poppy’s father, Dean, says as he appears next to me. I didn’t even notice the front door opening again or the fact that he made it to my side. He slaps me on the back, pulling me into a brief hug. “She’s really not gonna marry you. Overheard her, Maria, and Andrea talking about the baby and his last name. She made your momma cry when she said he’s gonna be a Pierce, that’s for sure. But she insists that she’s not going to marry you.”
That is news to me since Poppy still refuses to tell me anything about the baby’s name. Not that I’ll let him in on the fact that I don’t know.
“She does love you, even if she’s gonna make your life a living hell.” He starts walking me up the stairs, and that’s when I realize Poppy sent him to make sure I actually show up. “I love that little girl, even if she’s not so little anymore. And if I thought for a second that you were playing games with her this go-around, I’d take you out into the woods and bury you under rotting bear guts after giving you a paralytic and I’d watch you die on a game camera.” He squeezes my shoulder painfully. “Come on now, boy. It’s time to unwrap all the shit my wife and your mother have bought for that baby.”
“So much baby shit,” I agree with him, and we walk into my house. The house that looks like a baby factory exploded inside it. Boxes and boxes of diapers, wipes, and beer line the halls.
“The women did a diaper raffle. Apparently, you’re never gonna have to buy diapers for this kid cause every man in my club brought two, and every person from the station brought probably three.”
“And everyone also brought beer, so what was the point in the diaper raffle?”
“Trust me,” Poppy says while laughing when we walk into the living room. “There won’t be any beer left over between the two crews.”
“You’re right!” Remy crows from his spot on the couch next to Linc, where the two of them have six beers sitting between them. “We’re already beating you on the drinks department, and the best part is that our wives are driving us home because we were smart and knocked them up.”
Linc starts tittering. “Kennedy said that we have to be their drivers for the first six months after all the kids get here. So tonight’s our night to party.”
“You’re all fuckin’ crazy,” I tell them when I see Dom wearing a pink sash and rubbing his wife’s stomach. “The only one not losing his mind is Ian, and he’s putting together some sort of baby thing.”
Does that stop me from taking the beer that Poppy holds out for me? Hell no. Nor does it do anything to stop me from pulling Poppy in for a kiss in front of the entire room.
“You picked a last name your father tells me.” I keep my voice down, whispering the words against her lips.
Poppy smiles. “Maybe.”
That minx.
“You’ve got the name figured out already, don’t you?”
She winks at me and then saunters away. Well, as much as a pregnant woman who could pop at any second can saunter. Which for Poppy is quite a bit because I’m about to follow her with my mouth open and my tongue hanging out.
“I love that woman,” I say to no one in particular while I take my time savoring the beer in my hand and trying to ignore the chaos all around me.
“No shit,” Bax says from the love seat where he is sitting with my mom. He is wearing a diaper as a hat, and I think about the likelihood of slipping him a beer, then decide against it. He deserves it. “You have a bunch of people in your house for the first time ever for a social event, not just helping you move Poppy’s stuff. And they’re all over your yard, too. If you didn’t love her, I bet you’d have shot someone by now.”
He is right, so I don’t say anything about it. If it wasn’t for the woman currently hiding from me in the other room, I would have kicked everyone out of my house and gotten in the shower I’ve been craving all day.
By the time everyone leaves hours later, I haven’t had one minute alone with Poppy. I still haven’t had a shower, and I’m ready to burn my house down just to get away from people. But the baby shower is done, and our kid has more stuff than he’ll likely ever need.
“Why was that so much harder than everyone else’s?” Poppy plops down next to me on the couch and closes her eyes. “Every other baby shower, we just show up and decorate and give them presents and food. Then we just get to leave and sleep.”
Unable to help myself, I pull her into my arms and relish the way her body curves into mine. I have one arm wrapped around her back, and the other I bring up to feel our boy move around.
“I had cake today,” Poppy says sleepily. “He really likes the sugar, I think.”
If the rolling and pitching of her stomach is anything to go by, Poppy is beyond right about it.
“Your brother read me the riot act,” I whisper into the silence a few minutes later. “About not trusting you when you went out. For trying to keep you locked up and safe in the house.” I sigh. “By the end of it, I felt like I was one of those people who tries to lock a falcon up instead of letting it go free., trusting the bird to come home when its time.”
Poppy doesn’t even tense in my arms, and if I wasn’t already crazy about her, that moment would have decided it.
“I also know that you’re keeping something from me about the locket.” She nuzzles into my chest, shocking the shit out of me. “I don’t care what you have to do to feel like you’re keeping us safe, Lo. You do you. I’m still gonna be here. I might be trying to kill you by the end of it, but I trust you.”
“I went and saw your dad at the club,” I tell her. “The other day when I came to the realization that you could be in danger because of me.”
I think for sure that will cause her to freak out. That she’ll yell at me or leave. In fact, I tighten my hold on her back just slightly, preparing for the eventuality that I’ll have to convince her to stay. But yet again, I underestimate her.
“What do you mean? I told Sammy what was happening, and I assumed he’d go and tell my dad about it so the club could keep an eye on things, too.”
Shit.
There I am, trying my hardest to keep my shit together and keep her out of it, and Poppy is smarter than I am. Without even trying.
Instead of hiding my guilt or shame at not including her in the discussions that will keep her safe, I pull up my big boy pants and decide to tell her everything. Well, mostly everything.
“Ortega had to be the one to send you that locket.” I smooth my hand over her stomach, hoping for the baby to kick some more. “I know that you know that. I don’t know why I tried to cover it up. I’m afraid that he’s going to come after you so that he can hurt me.”
Again.
“I’ve got a gun,” Poppy offers conspiratorially. “And I might not be as good of a shot as Emma, but I’m pretty good.”
“No one’s as good as Emma. Not even Dom, and he was the sniper in our unit.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Why aren’t you fighting me? Or arguing? Or telling me I’m a jackass?”
“Because.” Poppy pulls away just enough so that she can turn and stare into my eyes. “Anything that I could say to you, you’re telling yourself a hundred times over. Not only that, but you’ve already beat yourself down to the point that you were sneaking into my house because you couldn’t stay away…” She yawns loudly.
“So, you buried the locket at Lettie’s grave. Why?”
I don’t mention that Sam told me she did it or the fact that he was the one to tell me where she was. Not after she left a note saying she’d be back later and nothing else.
“Because,” Poppy bites out. “I’m already a geriatric pregnancy, according to dickwad Dr. Kyle. I don’t want to invite ghosts into the house with our baby. Even if it’s your sister’s ghost.”
Out of all the things that may have come out of her mouth, I never thought it would be that.
“Are you still afraid of ghosts?” I ask her, rubbing my hand over her stomach gently. “I thought that was just a phase.”
“Ghosts are real, Lo.” She elbows me in the stomach again. “With all the bad things in our world, all the things that happen with no reason, you can’t sit here and tell me they aren’t.” She nestles into my side again, and I pull the blanket off the back of the couch and cover her with it.
“I don’t know about actual ghosts,” I admit quietly, even though I can hear her soft snores fill the air. “But I do know that the ghosts from my past might be bad enough to destroy everything we’ve built.” I kiss her head again. “And I’ll do anything to keep that from happening.”