Chapter 13 Poppy
POPPY
I don’t even know how much time has passed. When I wake up, it’s dark in Phantom’s bedroom, and I feel like I’ve lost all sense of what day it is.
On the one hand, I feel like I’ve been here forever, and that’s not a bad thing. But on the other hand, I’ve been wearing the same T-shirt and boxers for however long it’s been, and I’m anxious to get back to normal.
Shit, the salon.
I grab my phone from the bedside table, thankful that Phantom has kept it charged.
Me: Please tell me this flu doesn’t last more than a day or two.
She replies in seconds.
Clara: Is that why I haven’t heard from you? I was hoping after your family date you’d been locked away in a sex dungeon with that fine-as-eff man, but since you didn’t ask me to watch Jax, I assumed you were blowing me off.
I sometimes do blow off my sister’s texts, if I’m honest. I love her to pieces, but I see her Tuesday through Saturday at the salon.
If she blows up my phone Sunday or Monday, it’s usually to bitch about Mom.
I stopped trying to change our mother years ago.
Clara, the youngest and the more stubborn of the two of us, has not.
Me: Well, you’re not completely wrong. I’ve been at his place with Jax, but not for the reasons you think.
I include a sick emoji and hit send. I feel like every inch of my body has been soaked in sweat, then dried, and soaked again. Utterly disgusting.
I head into the bathroom and grab a towel from the small closet next to the shower. I’m shocked to find my makeup bag and a plastic bag filled with toiletries that someone must have brought from my house.
I can’t believe how out of it I’ve been. And he’s just stepped in and thought of everything. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t responsible for everyone and everything. As sick as I’ve been, I swear just having time to sleep has got me feeling better already.
I turn on the water and check the notification from my sister, then strip down while the water heats up. Just having those sweaty clothes off my body feels so much better. I’m going to have to strip Phantom’s bed and disinfect everything in his room.
Clara: So, tell me you’re going to fuck him once you’re better, Pop?
When I don’t respond right away, three more texts come in rapid succession.
Clara: Tell me you already did and then you got sick.
Clara: Tell me something.
Clara: Details!!
I hesitate before texting back.
Me: No, I have not and…it’s complicated.
And… That’s the problem. God knows I want him. He’s beautiful and thoughtful. But I hardly know him. We’ve both got kids to care for, and he’s got Shayla to deal with it. It’s all so darned complicated.
Clara: What’s complicated? Make it simple, sis, and hit that. Come on!
I ignore her text and check the water. It’s perfect. I don’t have my expensive salon shampoo, but there is some drugstore product that Phantom must have bought to replace the stuff that was ruined in the break-in.
That man has thought of absolutely everything. Based on the label and the berry scent, it’s the same stuff he buys the girls. Something about that fills my heart to almost bursting. I shove the feelings away and focus on what I started texting Clara about in the first place.
Me: Can you cover the salon tomorrow? I’ll call my clients tonight and reschedule as many as I can, but I need to get home and sort some things out and be sure I’m over this before I come back to work.
Clara: You fuck him, I’ll cover you.
A text like that doesn’t deserve a reply. Even if it’s a deal I’d gladly agree to.
The water feels absolutely glorious—hot and clean.
Just what I need. I scrub myself every place possible—twice—and wish I had a razor so I could shave my legs.
I didn’t think to check the bag, but when I bend over to touch my stubble, I feel a little light-headed…
So maybe the shaving can wait. Once my hair is clean and I feel almost like me again, I wrap myself in a towel, blot my hair dry, and climb out of the shower.
I pad into Phantom’s room and look around to see if I have anything to wear when the door swings open.
“Poppy? You up? I—”
Phantom takes one look at me, my hands clutching one of his towels over my chest.
“I, uh…” he says.
We both freeze and laugh. I point back toward the bathroom. “I found my toiletries. Thank you.”
He’s staring at me like a lion sizing up a tasty-looking gazelle.
“Phantom?” I say, clutching the towel a little tighter. “Are you okay?”
He shakes his head and nods. “Sorry. Fuck me.” He’s beside me in a second, his hand on my arm. “Why are you out of bed?”
“Drenched with sweat,” I say, lifting a lock of my hair. “But the good news is, I think the fever broke.”
His eyes go wide and his nostrils flare.
“Phantom, I’m kidding.” I smile at him, despite the fact that I think my hair might be starting to drip on his bedroom floor. “I took a shower. I’m getting better. I felt disgusting and wanted to clean up.”
“Poppy.” He swallows hard and drags a hand through his beard. “Clothes.”
He points to me, and I follow his finger, looking confused. I’m giving this man the view of a lifetime of my cleavage.
Oh. My. God.
I freeze, not sure whether to tug the towel up and risk exposing my other bits or let go of the towel and adjust it, which would give him a whole eyeful of literally everything.
I might as well just dance naked across the bedroom at this point. I start to back into the bathroom. “Um, I’ll just find something later?”
“Poppy. Wait.”
I stop, my bare toes squeaking on the smooth wood floor. I look at Phantom, my fingers locked in a battle between the towel and the forces of gravity that seem to really want me to give this man a show.
Something unspoken but powerful pulses between us, and heat floods my body. His lips are parted, and he reaches to move a wet lock of my hair from my face. We don’t say anything. All I hear is the pounding of my heart and the soft breaths as he flares his nostrils and sucks in a deep breath.
“You’re fucking stunning.” I don’t know when he moved closer, but I have to look up now to meet his eyes.
I stare into his face, and my fingers, shady little bitches that they are, loosen their hold on the towel. It slips an inch, then two, and I draw in an unsteady breath when the cool air hits my nipples.
“I want to taste you.” His words are a raspy plea. “Poppy, you make me… You…”
Holding the towel loosely with one hand—because why bother fighting, gravity’s going to win this one—my eyes flutter closed. “Do it,” I tell him. “Phantom, please, do it…”
He drops to his knees on the hard floor and lifts his hands to cup both of my breasts. I suck in a breath as torrents of heat flow through my body. His thumbs stroke my erect nipples, his rough skin scraping the tender flesh and practically bringing me to my knees.
“Dad?”
The sound of Daisy’s voice outside the door breaks the moment. Phantom is on his feet with lightning speed and lifting the edge of the towel to cover my breasts. “Bathroom,” he says quietly. “I’ll go see what’s up. Your clothes are there.”
He points to a small suitcase that I’m going to guess belongs to one of the girls. It’s teal blue and covered in faded stickers.
“Thank you,” I pant, which somehow feels like the wrong thing to say. Then I turn, run into the bathroom, and close the door behind me.
My nipples are aching, and a flood of wetness has pooled between my legs. I need to cover up, get dressed, and lock my sex drive back down. This man is getting under my skin. And now that I’ve had a touch, a taste, I want so much more. I’ve never felt more terrified.
I’m feeling well enough to join the family at dinner. After the kids have eaten, I send them off to do homework, while Phantom and I stay behind to do the dishes.
“I have to be at family court tomorrow.” He says the words quietly. “Do you think you’d be willing to go with me?”
I almost drop a glass as I’m trying to load it into the dishwasher. “Go with you? You mean, as a witness? Will I have to testify?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” He plants his hands on the sink and stares at the stack of dishes. “I thought it would be safer for you. Just in case…Shayla, you know.”
I don’t know. “What do you mean safer?” I set the glass on the rack and come up behind him. I put a hand on his back. “Do you think she’s behind what happened at my house, Phantom? Why would you be worried about my safety?”
He sighs. “She might be. I don’t know for sure, but she was served notice of the emergency hearing. It’ll go forward whether she shows or not, but I’d feel better if I know the kids are safe in school. And I want you safe. I want you with me so I know you are.”
I step close to him and rest my cheek against his back. It’s an instinct I give in to but immediately regret. I pull back and step away, not sure what to say. I hurry to get back to loading dishes.
I have never felt more cared for, more protected by anyone in my entire life. Not even when I was with Michael. I feel like a traitor even admitting it. But this man, this tattooed ex-convict, biker, father, mystery of a man, has already been more of a hero in my story than anyone ever has.
“Poppy?” He tosses a sponge into the sink and turns to face me. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he waits, those denim-blue eyes insistent.
“What time is the hearing?” I ask.
“Nine. I figured I’d drop all the kids at school and then head to the courthouse.”
Clara is going to cover the salon tomorrow, so I can take the day to do whatever.
Sleep, clean my house. I know Phantom said he had people doing it, but I can’t imagine anyone will take better care of my house than I will.
I think back to the broken glass, the trashed papers, the overturned furniture.
“Do you really think Shayla’s behind what happened at my house?” I ask.
He turns to the fridge and grabs a beer. “You want one?” he asks. “Or you think you’ll want some cold medicine tonight?”
Right now, the thought of an ice-cold beer sounds like bliss. “I’d love one.”
He opens the bottles, and we sit back down at the table, the dishes only half done.
“I put the word out, and we got some names. I don’t have proof yet, but I’m close.”
“Why?” I ask, taking a long sip of the beer. It bubbles and fizzes on my tongue. Cold and refreshing after so many hours hot from my fever. “What could she possibly have against me?”
Phantom rolls his neck. “Shayla isn’t herself. I don’t know what’s gotten into her. The shit with the kids and the salon… That’s not the half of it. She could be pissed I paid your bill, she could be pissed we went to dinner with the kids. Could be nothing, could be anything.”
All of a sudden, the beer sits heavy on my stomach. “How would she know?” I ask. “How would she know we went out together? Is she still hung up on you?”
Phantom shakes his head and barks out a bitter laugh. He reaches across the table and takes my hand just like he did in the restaurant. He laces his fingers through mine, and despite the worry and fear, I feel calmer.
“Babe, I don’t know. I don’t know if she has any idea we were out.
The last time I saw Shayla, which was the day after I met you, she was standing in the driveway of the compound, calling me a loser and threatening to call the cops on me for taking the kids.
” He strokes the back of my hand with a thumb.
“It’s all legal and above board. I’m entitled to have them whenever they want to be with me.
And if the court agrees with me, I’ll have them permanently. ”
“Is she dangerous?”
“Babe, I’ve known Shayla since junior high.
We met when we were Daisy’s age. She was my first everything.
First fuck, first kiss. She got knocked up when we were seventeen and stood by me through all the stupid shit I did.
But things change. People change. I think I’ve changed for the better in some ways, but don’t get me wrong, I’m an asshole through and through.
Shayla didn’t start out the way she is now, but the change happened quick. ”
I wrap my hands around his and squeeze. His hands are scarred and rough, but somehow, they fit me.
“Do you think she’d hurt me or Jax?” I ask, suddenly wondering what might have happened if we’d been home when the break-in happened, but I can’t go there.
“That’s a chance I don’t want to take.” His eyes bore into mine. “I want to protect you both. And right now, I can only do that if you’re with me.”
He leans over the table, and I lean in too, until our noses practically touch over our clasped hands. “Stay with me, Poppy. Stay here for as long as it takes to sort this out.”
I close my eyes and lower my head until our foreheads touch. I can’t agree to it. Stay here? What am I going to do, move my son in to the home of a man I’ve known for one week?
But when I open my eyes, I refuse to believe that the man who made me soup, who fed me medicine, whose daughters are kind, gentle, wonderful young women could have a dark side so bleak I can’t handle it.
There’s been no one in my life since Michael. No one I wanted. No one I could even picture being with me past a single date. Technically, Phantom and I are still on our first date.
“Will you take me to my place?” I ask. “After the court appearance.”
He nods. “Whatever you want.”
I draw in a shaky breath and lower my lips to kiss his knuckles. “Okay. I’ll go to court with you.”
That’s all I can promise him for now. I can’t give him any more of me. After tomorrow, I have to go back to work. I have to get back to my life, whatever that looks like now.
But how am I ever going to let go of something I want so badly?