I like the text but don’t reply. It’s what we do. Deal with problems. Sweep up messes. Keep our house neat because our business can get dirty.
I rub my eyes and head into the kitchen. I take out my frustration on some carrots and celery. If Poppy’s going to get better, she’s going to need some soup. If I expect her to stay here, she’s also going to need the truth.
The room isdark and quiet. I hear the soft sounds of Poppy breathing and rustling under the covers.
“Phantom?” Her voice is weak and thin.
“Hey.” I set the tray I’m carrying on my bedside table and open the drapes just a crack to let in some light. “I brought lunch.”
I head over to the bed and help Poppy sit up, fluffing some pillows behind her.
“You brought me soup?” she asks quietly.
“It’s the only thing I can cook,” I chuckle. “The kids make pancakes and all that shit, but I’ve got one trick. This is it. Chicken noodle soup.”
She takes a deep breath then covers her mouth and coughs. “Sorry,” she rasps. “It smells amazing.”
I sit on the side of the bed and put the tray on her lap. “Eat,” I tell her. “Then rest. I got my brothers bringing over Jax’s clothes and backpack. I asked them to update me on the cleanup and to bring whatever they could for you—clothes, hairbrush, whatever.”
She sets the spoon down on the tray and shakes her head. Even sick, her deep brown eyes glassy and her cheeks flushed, she is fucking beautiful. I watch her draw her lower lip into her mouth and sigh. “You don’t have to do all this,” she says. “I’m going to get you sick staying here.”
I shake my head. “My immune system’s like a rock,” I tell her. My guts churn, and I realize I’m feeling fucking nervous. Me. Nervous. I push past it because there’s no other way to do this. “After you’ve been toprison a couple times, you’re around so much shit, you toughen up pretty quick.”
I meet her eyes.
“At least, I did.”
She considers what I said, but she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look horrified. “Can I ask what happened?”
I lace my fingers together and crack my knuckles. “When I was younger, I didn’t have the same discretion I’ve got now. A couple of fights got out of hand. Assault, public intoxication. Stupid shit when I was careless.”
She sips the tea I brought her. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Not exactly first-date information. But you’re in my house, in my bed. You should know what there is to know.” I know being honest with her could drive her away. Make a woman like this get up and run for the hills. Her ma’s in local government, for fuck’s sake. I don’t know how much Mama’s going to like her baby dating an ex-con.
“Is there more I should know?” she asks, her voice raspy. “Because I’ve seen a lot, and I have a few opinions of my own. But if there’s more you want to share…”
I shake my head. “You got the highlights.”
She takes another spoonful of soup. “My God, Phantom. This is good, and it’s not just because I’m sick.” She leans back against the pillows and sighs. “I’m glad you told me. There’s something I think you should know.”
I brace for whatever’s coming. I can take it. I’ve beeninsulted. Called a criminal or worse. Called worthless by the people who were supposed to love me. Fuck, Shayla’s favorite nickname for me is loser. Whatever Poppy thinks, it can’t be anything I haven’t heard before. So why am I tensing up like I’m bracing for a punch that I know is going to hurt?
“Lay it on me,” I say.
Her eyes are closed, but there’s a smile on her lips. “You’re gorgeous,” she says. “And funny. You’ve been gentle with me and nothing but perfect with my son. Your daughters adore you, and I haven’t seen you do anything but the right thing since I met you.”
“Go back to the first thing.” I scoot closer and put my hand on her knee. Even though the blankets separate my skin from hers, I need to touch her right now. Need to feel her close to me. “Gorgeous. More about that.”
“Mmmmm,’” she moans and laughs softly, which is quickly followed up by a wicked cough. “Sorry,” she croaks.
I smooth the hair back from her face and pour out another dose of flu meds. “Drink this so you can go back to telling me how sexy you think I am.”
“I didn’t say sexy, but…” She swallows the meds and washes them down with water. “God, you are. If I weren’t sick right now…”
I move close and rest the back of my wrist against her forehead. “You’re not burning up again, so you’re not delirious. You know what you’re saying. I’m going to want you to finish that sentence.”
“I will,” she murmurs and then drifts back into sleep.
