Wild Heart (Viper's Heart Duet Book 2) (25 page)

The night before Thanksgiving, my phone beeped and I frowned down at the strange number. I clicked on the little envelope.

Hey! I’m not sure if you kept my number, but it’s Joel. Quick question, and no pressure, but I was chatting with Jodi and Vince the other day and they told me what happened with you. She also mentioned that it was just you, Matthew, and Maura for Thanksgiving. I was thinking . . . it’s just me and Gavin for Thanksgiving, too. Do you guys want to maybe have dinner all together? If the answer is no, or this comes across as out of line, please forget I said anything.

I smiled down at my phone. Not only did I not think he was out of line, I thought he was really sweet. But . . . one big problem.

Hi! Dinner together sounds awesome, but there’s an issue. I can’t cook. Is it weird to have grilled cheese for Thanksgiving dinner?

I glanced over at Matthew who was sitting at the kitchen table, trying to build a pirate ship with Legos. “Hey, bud?”

“Yeah?” he answered without looking up at me.

“Would you like Gavin to come over for dinner tomorrow?”

He gasped and his head shot up. “Yes!”

His excitement for his new friend made me excited. The thought of having another adult around to chat with, especially on a holiday, wasn’t so bad either. My phone beeped again.

Joel:
      
Grilled cheese is an acceptable meal 24 hours a day, 7 days a week—holidays included. What time do you want us over?

Early Thanksgiving afternoon, I was rushing around like a madwoman, picking up last-minute things around the house.

“Matthew, why do I keep finding your underwear in the family room? You have a hamper!” I grumbled as I bent over and picked another pair up.

Matthew looked up at me and shrugged. “Sorry.”

I quickly picked up Maura’s toys and put them in her basket, stacked the books on the shelf, and took the bin of matchbox cars to the playroom.

“Okay,” I said with a sigh, looking around the family room. “I think I got most of it. I’m gonna run upstairs and change. You stay put, okay?”

Still staring down at his Kindle, he nodded.

I’d barely reached the bottom of the stairs when he called out, “Don’t forget to put your underwear in the hamper, Mom!” I let out a hard laugh that didn’t let up until I got to my room.

I stood in the center of my closet, studying each shelf and rack of clothes.

“That doesn’t fit. That doesn’t fit. That
never
fit,” I said out loud to myself with a sigh.

I had been so exhausted lately that going to the mall to buy new maternity clothes felt more like a chore than anything. Yoga pants and T-shirts were my main staple, and they would have to do for Thanksgiving, too. I pulled a clean pair of black pants from my drawer and barely squeezed my boobs into my too-small bra, praying to God it didn’t pop back open. As I was picking out a T-shirt, my favorite Wild hoodie caught my eye.

Perfect!

Joel said that Jodi had told him what happened, but I had no idea exactly how much she had told him and whether he knew I was pregnant or not. Nor did I know if I wanted to talk about something like that on Thanksgiving if he didn’t already know, so a big, baggy hoodie was just want I wanted. Not to mention it was worn-in and totally comfy.

I quickly threw some powder on my face and dabbed my eyes with mascara, trying to think back to the last time I’d actually put any makeup on at all. It had been . . . awhile.

Then why today?

I didn’t have time to think about the answer to my own question. The doorbell rang and I sprinted from my room and down the steps as fast as I could, hoping to get there before it rang a second time.

“Hi!” I said breathlessly as I opened the door.

He pulled his brows in tight. “Hi. Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” I puffed my cheeks out. “I was upstairs and Maura’s napping. I didn’t want the bell to wake her, so I ran. She’ll be a monster if she doesn’t get a good nap. What’s that?” I pointed to the huge box in his arms.

“Oh! This . . . is a lot better than grilled cheese,” he said with a wink as he walked past me into the kitchen. Gavin ran to find Matthew, and I followed Joel and his mystery box to the island.

“So I really wasn’t kidding when I said I love grilled cheese. I do. But . . . I figured why not see if I could find something a
little
more special, so I made some calls and voila! Thanksgiving in a box.”

“Thanksgiving in a box?” I lifted to my tippytoes to try and see over the edge.

Joel started pulling containers out and setting them on the island. My eyes grew wider, and my mouth salivated more as each amazing smelling box passed under my nose. Turkey and potatoes and corn and stuffing and cranberries and green bean casserole and gravy . . . it was never ending.

When he’d pulled the last box out, he looked back and forth from me to the food proudly. “What do ya think? Beats the hell outta grilled cheese, huh?”

I stared in awe at all of the food on the island and shook my head slowly. “Thanksgiving in a box. I had no idea that was even a thing.”

“I’ve done it before, but back in Iowa. I wasn’t sure anywhere around here did it, but we lucked out.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “So when do you want to eat? Couple hours?”

“Ooooor a couple minutes?” I said with a laugh. “I’m gonna set the dining room table, and the minute Maura wakes up, let’s dig in.”

“Sounds good to me,” he agreed. “What can I help with?”

An hour and a half later, I was elated that I’d decided to wear yoga pants and a hoodie for the day. If my bump wasn’t sticking out before, it sure was after dinner. I think I scared Joel when I went back for my third plateful of food.

Gavin, Matthew, and Maura ran off to the playroom and we both sat at the messy, empty table, too stuffed to move.

“That . . . was unbelievable,” I said with a happy sigh.

He looked over and arched a brow at me. “We’re not done.”

“We’re not?”

“Nope.” His lips curled into a sexy grin and for the first time, I noticed a small dimple in his left cheek. “We still have pumpkin pie.”

I lifted my arms on the table and groaned as I dropped my head on top of them. “I don’t think I can.”

“Come on, champ.” He laughed and walked around behind me, massaging my shoulders like a boxing coach does to his fighter. “I have faith. You can do it.”

“I think if I try, you’ll have to wheel me to the hospital.”

He let go of my shoulders and took a few steps toward the kitchen. “Okay, fine. More for me then. I’m gonna grab some wine. You want some?”

I didn’t lift my head but my eyes shot open. “Uh . . . no. I’m good. Thanks.”

“Okay, be right back.”

As soon as I heard the fridge open, I sat up straight and my mind raced. Obviously Jodi hadn’t told him that I was pregnant or he wouldn’t have offered me wine. Should I tell him? Should I not? And why the hell was I so nervous and freaking out about it?

He set the glass down and sat back in his chair. “Boy, we have a mess to clean up, huh?”

“I’m pregnant,” I blurted out, then cringed at how crazy he must have thought I was.

“Uh . . . okay,” he said with wide eyes as he stared down at the table. “Well, I can clean the mess by myself then, that’s fine.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I blurted it out like that and I probably could’ve done it in a more tactful way but you asked if I wanted wine and I can’t have wine and then you came back and out it flew,” I rambled until I ran out of breath.

“Michelle . . .” He leaned forward on his elbows. “Slow down. I’m glad you told me, so please don’t worry about the way you told me.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, staring down at my lap.

“At least that explains the twelve pounds of mashed potatoes you ate,” he teased with a wink.

“Shut up!” I crumpled up my napkin and threw it at him.

We left the mess on the table and moved to the family room to talk, where I filled him in on
almost
everything that had happened with Viper. I told him about how he’d been acting weird after his surgery and how he was less than thrilled about my pregnancy, but I left out the really bad parts because, for some reason, I just didn’t want anyone else thinking he was a horrible person, even if I did.

When I finished, he stared at me with raised eyebrows and a dazed look on his face. “Wow. So how long has it been since you’ve talked him?”

“Mmmm.” I closed one eye and looked up at the ceiling, trying to figure out when he left. “It’s been just about a month.”

“And he hasn’t contacted you
at all?
”

“Kinda. He sent a text once and apologized, and Gam says he asks her about me, but that’s about it.”

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.” I shook my head quickly. “That’s my story. It’s out there now. It’s over. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “I just want to say one thing and then I promise I won’t bring it up again, okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed reluctantly.

“You have my number now. If you need anything, and I mean anything, I want you to use it. I’m right across the street and can be here in ten seconds if I need to be, fifteen if I have to put pants on first.”

I giggled. “Well, it’s about to be winter in Minnesota, so pants would probably be a good idea if you’re going outside.”

“True. Freezing cold air and naked dudes don’t go well together, and I certainly don’t want anyone spreading
that
rumor.”

My shoulders shook as I laughed again . . . hard. It felt good to laugh.

Joel kept his promise and didn’t bring up my situation, or Viper, again. We small-talked for a few more hours, then pried the boys apart after they’d fallen asleep in Matthew’s bed together. He slung Gavin over his shoulder and made his way to the front door.

“Thanks for having us,” he turned and said.

“Are you kidding? Thank
you
for the amazing dinner. To think we almost ended up with grilled cheese sandwiches instead of all that.” I laughed.

He tilted his head to the side and gave a little shrug as his eyes locked on mine. “It still would have been worth it.”

My pulse sped up and suddenly I wanted him to leave. Fast. I put my hand up on the edge of the door and pulled it a couple of inches toward me, hoping he’d get the hint. “Okay, well I’m gonna call it a night. I’m pooped.”

“Me, too. Thanks again.” Moving quickly, he reached down with his free arm and wrapped it around my waist, pulling me in for a tight hug against him. I rested my hand on his shoulders and squeezed back as I forced air in and out of my lungs. After a few seconds, he let go and walked out the door.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” he called out as he stepped off the front porch, totally unaware that he’d just made my heart skip thirty-seven beats.

“Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”

For the first time in my whole life, I spent Thanksgiving alone. In the past, if I wasn’t out on the road with the team, I was at Gam’s, but this year was just . . . different. Gam had invited me over, and I’d initially said yes, but I changed my mind at the last minute. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to leave my house. I didn’t want to lie and say I was thankful for anything because I wasn’t.

I was miserable.

I missed Michelle and the kids so bad that my chest ached when I thought about them. I wondered what they were doing every second of every day. On Thanksgiving morning, I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I got in my car and drove to her house, where I parked a couple houses down while I thought of what the fuck I was going to say when I knocked on the door. I sat there for over an hour, playing scenario after scenario over in my head and nothing I came up with saying even came close to how I was actually feeling. All that popped into my head was that she didn’t answer my last text. I didn’t blame her for ignoring me, God knows I deserved it, but maybe it was too late. The thought of never being able to hold Michelle again, make love to her again, lie in bed and have her put her cold feet on me again . . . it was crushing.