Steady (Pleasant Valley Book 3)

by Anna Brooks

  “Hear me, baby, when I say that I want to, okay?” Ending my statement, I squeeze her leg. “I’m not the kind of man who’s gonna do something I don’t wanna do. Even with you, Polly. So when I say something, know that every word coming out of my mouth is the truth, all right?”

  “Fine.” She sighs. “Can we run to the drug store real quick?”

  “Of course.”

  I steer us in the direction of the store and am about to ask what she wants to do for dinner when her arm brushes over mine as she turns the radio up. Taking that as my cue I’ve pissed her off somehow, I just keep driving until we arrive. She gets out of the car before I can walk around and open her door for her.

  “I’ll be right back; you don’t need to come with.”

  My teeth dig into my lip to prevent myself from laughing. This little attitude is cute as fuck, and if she thinks I’m going to be upset, she’s sorely mistaken because it’s making my dick hard. “It’s all good.”

  “Honestly, Erik. I can go in by myself.” She stops right as the sliding door opens upon her approach. “I’ll be right out.”

  “Not happening.” I put my hand on the small of her back and usher her inside.

  I’ve learned a lot of things about myself recently. Mainly, I’m more like my father than I ever realized. In no way, shape or form, do I want to control Polly; I don’t want to tell her what to do, and I certainly don’t want her to think I don’t trust her. What I will do, whether she agrees with it or not, is keep her safe. And it might not seem like a big deal, her going into a store by herself, but what kind of man would I be if I sat in the car waiting for her? If she was stopping without me, it’s not like I’d tell her she can’t go in until I get there, but if I’m with her, I’m going to be with her, not be lazy and make my woman go anywhere alone.

  Being in the protection business has left me jaded, too. I might not do a ton of fieldwork anymore, but I grew up with it, and it’s just natural to me.

  When she tries to shrug me off, I toss my arm over her shoulder. “What’s with the attitude, Polls? You were sweet as sugar when I picked you up.”

  Without answering, she grabs a basket then storms down an aisle and stops in front of a bunch of feminine products. “Yeah, well, I’m forced to be that way at work, but when I’m with you, I can truly be myself, right? So you get this side, too. The moody, roller-coaster ride that my period comes to claim every fucking month by punching me in my freaking ovaries then twisting them before stabbing them with a goddamned ice pick just for good measure.”

  Instead of answering, I press my lips together, sensing it’d be better not to say anything at this point. My hand falls from her shoulder, and I tuck it in my pocket and step away while she looks at the boxes. Wordlessly, I follow her through the aisles and watch as she grabs more items. A magazine, nail polish, a bag of cheesy popcorn, and when she begins tossing candy bars into the basket without even stopping as she walks, I can’t help but laugh. Her head whips in my direction, and I look down, rubbing the back of my neck.

  When the sound of her feet fading away hits me, I catch up and meet her in the checkout line. As the cashier is ringing up her stuff, I reach for my wallet. “Don’t even think about it,” Polly snaps at me.

  “Huh?”

  “I can pay for my own stuff.”

  Again, figuring it’s best to let this one go, I hold my hands up in surrender, wait until she’s done, and precede her out to the car. I’m glad the drive is only a few minutes, and when we arrive home, she doesn’t even say anything as she walks upstairs.

  I grab a bottle of water, sit on the couch, and turn on the TV. After flipping through the channels for twenty minutes and finding nothing appealing, I toss the remote onto the coffee table and get up. Polly still hasn’t come down here, so I go upstairs and tentatively open the door to our bathroom. Ours. Everything is now ours. She’s officially moved in, cancelled her lease, and is mine for good.

  She’s in the bath with her head tilted back, resting on the edge of the tub, and her eyes are closed. Seeing her there almost takes my breath away. It hasn’t been that long since she’s lived with me, but her being in my space just feels… right. Natural.

  I slip off my shoes, roll up my sleeves, and then sit on the edge of the tub where I push some wet hair off her peaceful face. “You okay?”

  She smiles without opening her eyes. “Yeah. Just tired.”

  Dammit, I knew she was pushing herself too hard. We’re not even supposed to be working tonight, but Brad’s trying to add Thursday VIP nights to see if that will help with the heavy crowds on the weekends. “I’ll call Brad.”

  “No, Erik. I’m fine. Just resting.” Now, she’s looking at me.

  Sliding my hand down her face, I go past her neck to her collarbone and apply pressure as I rub across to the other side and back again. Her lids close, and I do it again, happy she’s able to relax. I massage her shoulders and chest, even rubbing her soft breasts. The quiet moans she makes aren’t the same ones she does while I’m inside her, but I don’t have to be making love to her to make her feel good. Just seeing her like this is enough to satisfy me.

  When enough time has passed that the water becomes lukewarm, I pull my arm out, grab a towel, and hold it out for her. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you some food. We’ve gotta take off in an hour and twenty.”

  “Okay.” She steps out, and I wrap her up, gently kissing some of the water off her neck. When she steps away, she pulls the terry cloth tighter around her and turns to me. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “Not likin’ you wanting to be away from me, Polly.” The way she bites her lip and her eyes dart around, makes me even less happy. “You gonna tell me what’s up?”

  “Nothing’s up.” A sigh leaves her body, making her chest expand. “It’s not that I want to be away from you.”

  “Seems that way.”

  “It’s not. I promise.”

  Giving her the space she needs for whatever reason, I leave the bathroom and head down to the kitchen to make something for us to eat. I’ve learned the very hard way that my girl is not a cook. After digging through the fridge, I decide I need to go to the grocery store. It’s not fancy, but I end up making grilled cheese sandwiches and heating up some soup. Polly comes down, beautiful as ever, just as everything is finished.

  “We need to take a trip to the store,” I say, as I set her food in front of her at the island.

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Instead of sitting next to her, I remain across so I can look at her. She barely eats any food before getting up to put her dishes away. Since I’m leaning on the counter in front of the sink, she has to get close to me. I fight the urge to pull her into my arms and beg her to tell me what’s wrong.

  My appetite disappears and uncertainty replaces my hunger as I throw my food down the disposal. Since she’s already getting her shoes on, I grab my keys and tuck my wallet in my back pocket. We walk to the car, and after I open her door for her and close it when she gets in, I walk around the back of my car and take a couple of breaths to cool down.

  The last thing I want to do is push her, but it’s fucking killing me not to say anything. I rest my hand on her thigh, still needing to touch her in any way that I can. All too soon, we pull up to Complexity, and she gets out and heads into the building before I even get my ass out of the car.

  As I’m heading into Brad’s office, she comes out and literally runs into me. I reach out to steady her as she grabs my arms. Just like the first time we met. I’ll never forget that day, and the way she looked at me. The way she felt in my arms. God, it was like divine intervention, and I’m scared as shit right now that she doesn’t want to be with me anymore.

  “Sorry,” she mutters, and tries to wiggle away, but I give her a small shake. Finally giving me what I want, she looks up. Her eyes well with tears, and my lips part to say something… to say anything so I can figure out what is going on with her, but she shakes her head. “Not now, Erik. Please.
” Her words end on a whisper, and to respect her wishes, I simply nod and release my grip.

  She scurries away, and I watch as she walks down the hallway and rounds the corner.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Brad asks.

  “I don’t fuckin’ know. She seemed fine earlier when I dropped her off at the diner, and then when I picked her up, she was in a shitty mood. But now she just seems upset, and she won’t talk to me.” I walk fully inside the office and grab my earpiece.

  “She’s probably just on her rag or something.” He chuckles.

  “What do you know about that shit, man?”

  “Luckily, I don’t have to worry about it with Kennedy, but I’ve been around Rayne enough to know it’s a crap shoot depending on what day you cross their path. Glad I don’t have to live with it.” He gloats and ducks when I throw a pen at him.

  “Yeah. She bought some girly shit at the store earlier. That’s probably what it is.” I hope. God, I hope that’s all that it is.

  Throughout the night, I make sure to keep an eye on her. Not like I normally don’t anyway, but on top of the sudden mood she’s in, I want to make sure she’s doing okay. She’s carrying a pitcher of beer in one hand and a tray of drinks in the other when a guy turns and runs right into her. Somehow, she manages to keep the tray upright, but the beer spills all over him.

  I’m making my way over, pushing through the crowd and trying to drown out the thumping of the bass. Pretty boy goes from drunk and carefree to drunk and angry in a split second. He’s wiping his shirt and glaring at Polly as she tries to placate him. Her arm’s gotta be sore from holding the tray above her head.

  As I approach, I gently touch the small of her back. An immediate sigh of relief leaves her. “Go deliver those, I got this.”

  She nods and tries to sidestep the guy, but he moves so he’s in front of her. “You need to go get your boss so he can take care of this shit.”

  “Move out of her way, man.” I round Polly and motion for her to go around the other side of him. Once she’s out of earshot and setting the drinks down on a table, I finally turn my attention back to him. “What’s the problem?”

  “That chick ran into me with a pitcher of beer. This shirt was a hundred and sixty bucks, and somebody is going to reimburse me for it.”

  “That’s not happening. One, I saw you jumping around like a tween at a boy band concert before you ran into her. Two, you’re an idiot for spending that much money on a shirt… especially one as ugly as that.” I point at the hunter green with pearl buttons and one pocket with purple and black stitching. His friends snicker behind him, and he crosses his arms. “And three, if I hear another peep out of you about it, I’ll take great pleasure in tossing your scrawny ass out and banning you from ever showing your face here again. We clear?”

  His arms fall to his sides, and he huffs. “Whatever.”

  “Am I gonna have a problem with you anymore tonight?”

  “No.” He goes back and sits down with his friends who are trying not to laugh at him.

  Polly walks back toward me with a tray and a bunch of empties and looks embarrassed as if it’s her fault this ass fucking ran into her and made a scene. “Polls, come here.”

  She pauses and looks at me, avoiding the guy. “Yeah?”

  “Was that pitcher for them or someone else?”

  “Them.”

  “Okay. You go take care of the empties, and I’ll bring it to them, all right? Go take a breather for a minute.”

  Her body visibly relaxes, and she nods. “’Kay.”

  I follow her out of the VIP area, and when she stops at the bar to set the tray down, I kiss the top of her head, needing some kind of connection with her. Without even acknowledging me, she takes off down the hallway, and I step behind the bar to fill a pitcher. After I deposit it at the table, I do a walk-through and stick my head outside to make sure Manny is okay.

  Except for pretty boy, it’s a calm but busy and steady night, which is nice. I walk back inside and lean over the bar. “I’ll be right back,” I holler to Brad.

  “Everything okay?”

  “I think so.”

  He gives me a chin lift, and I rap my knuckles on the bar top before I go down the hall. As I’m almost to Brad’s office, Polly emerges from the bathroom.

  “Hey.”

  She falters in her steps and looks down.

  “You’ve gotta talk to me. Did something happen?”

  “No,” she mumbles. “I’m just tired.”

  “You won’t even look at me, baby.” She raises her head, and when I see redness around her eyes, it punches me in the gut. “Talk to me, Polly. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

  Her lips press together, and she shakes her head.

  “No?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it.” I lose my temper and raise my voice, stepping closer to her.

  When she cowers away from me, I stay where I am. “You know I’d never lay a hand on you.”

  “I know that, you don’t need to keep reminding me.” She turns and goes back to work, and I punch the wall.

  The rest of the night and into the morning goes by craptastically well, and when we get home, I take a shower while Polly heads straight to bed. By the time I get out and slide beneath the covers, she’s already asleep. My mind is going eight thousand miles a minute, trying to figure out what the hell is going on with her.

  The last time I look at the clock, it says 3:04, but when she gasps and sits up from a nightmare, it states 5:56.

  “You okay?” I sit up and rub her back like I’ve been doing every time she wakes up from one of these things. But unlike all the other times, she’s sniffling. Pulling her into my arms, I lie down with her resting her head on my chest and run my fingers through her hair.

  Listening to her cry is making me so damn upset, and not knowing how I can help her is pissing me off. “Please talk to me,” I beg. “I’m going crazy here thinkin’ you’re gonna leave me.”

  Her breath hitches when she tries to fill her lungs with air. “I’m sorry,” she cries. “I’m not trying to be… to act like this, but I can’t help it. I’m so confused.”

  “Confused about what?”

  “I got my period,” she whispers.

  “Figured that.”

  “So that means that I… I’m not pregnant.”

  Chapter 14

  Polly

  Erik’s hand stills in my hair, and I hold my breath as I wait for a response. When I don’t get one and my hands begin to shake, I continue. “I’m sorry, I just—”

  “Did you want to be pregnant?”

  “I never thought I wanted that, and honestly, it was never something I was in the right place in my life to imagine. Growing up, I tried to survive and only had a dream to make it on my own. Having a family wasn’t even on my radar. I took birth control as an extra precaution.”

  This has all come as a shock to me since this afternoon, and I know I haven’t handled it well. I’ve purposely kept my standards low my entire life to avoid disappointment. I’ve been hungry, I’ve been scared, and I’ve been alone. And now I’ve finally gotten to the point in my life where I could see a future with a man. A man who genuinely cares about me. He makes me feel safe, and he showed up at the exact moment I needed him.

  If it wasn’t for Erik coming back for me, I have no clue what would have happened that night. I still have nightmares. The fear I used to live with has come back in my dreams, and the only time I know I’m safe again is when I’m with Erik. When he’s touching me or even looking at me from across a room.

  Except I’m scared now, and I don’t know why.

  “So what changed that?”

  “You.” I sniffle and clear my throat. “You changed so much, and I want things with you that I didn’t even know I’d ever be free enough to think about. You make it safe enough for me to dream.”

  “Means the world to me that yo
u think that.”

  “I was late. Like almost two weeks late. With everything that happened, I didn’t even think about it. But then when I got my period at the diner today, it hit me. And it hurt. It hurt that I realized how badly I wanted that. How badly I want to have a baby. And then the thought of having one with you, having a family with you, made me want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. But just like that”—I snap my fingers—“it was taken away. Something that I instantly wanted with every fiber of my being was ripped away so fast it left marks deep inside that I’m not sure will ever be able to heal.”

  I wait for him to say something, but he’s like a damn statue. He’s usually the one who knows the right thing to say.

  “And I’m sorry that I’ve been such a bitch to you, but I’ve been trying to process my emotions, and it just… I dunno, it just feels like a hole in my heart.”

  He stands so fast, I fall back on the bed. “Erik?”

  It’s dark, so I only see his shadow as he walks out of the room. Oh my God, he hates me. He wasn’t ready to have this talk, and I pushed it on him. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.

  I quickly jump out of bed and rush downstairs where he’s slamming cupboards. I skid to a stop in the kitchen when he grabs a bottle off a shelf. He hasn’t talked much about his drinking problem after the night I found him in the tub. As far as I know, he hasn’t had a drop since then, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be the cause of him doing that to himself again. “What are you doing?”

  “Go back to bed.” He shuts the cupboard and begins untwisting the cap.

  He stands with his back to me, so I reach around him, grab the neck of the brand new bottle of vodka, and step away from him as soon as it’s fully in my grasp. “What are you doing?” I repeat.

  He turns on me, and the mask of anger on his face alarms me. Not because I’m afraid he’d hurt me, but because I worry I put it there. I’ve seen it directed at other men—mainly at the club when they’ve gotten handsy—but even then his glare wasn’t this intense.