Wild Heart (Viper's Heart Duet Book 2)

by Beth Ehemann

  Nothing.

  My head turned to the left and my eyes connected with Gam’s. She was standing in the kitchen doorway with her arms crossed over her chest, watching me like a hawk with narrow eyes.

  “Oh! Hey!” I tried to sound casual as I pulled the screen door open and went in.

  I walked straight over to Gam and opened my arms, but like a football player, she straight-armed my chest and stopped me dead in my tracks. “Don’t ‘Oh, hey’ me,” she said angrily. “I want to talk to you, and how you respond will determine whether or not you get a hug.”

  Wow.

  “Uh . . . okay.”

  “Let’s sit.” She motioned for me to follow her into the kitchen.

  I stopped in the doorway as soon as I saw Kat standing at the counter cutting something. “Why don’t we go in the living room? I want to sit on the couch.”

  Gam turned and stared at me for a second. “Fine. Not that I give a rat’s ass about you being comfortable right now, but fine.”

  We walked to the living room and she sat in her usual chair, me across from her on the couch.

  My eyes darted around the room, avoiding hers. She wasn’t talking or doing anything else, she just sat perfectly still, glaring at me.

  After I minute, I took a deep breath, “So—”

  “What the fuck is the matter with you?” she interrupted immediately.

  I exhaled heavily on the other side of her sentence. I knew damn well what she meant, but I needed every second I could buy. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play dumb and stall with me,” she said, shaking her head. “What the hell is going on in that puny little brain of yours?”

  “You don’t understand,” I started to defend, but she cut me off again.

  “Oh, I understand just fine. You had the best thing that ever happened to you tightly in your grasp, and you let her go.”

  “I didn’t let her go—”

  “You sure did. You walked out of that house.”

  “She told me to get out!”

  “Because you were acting like an asshole. I would have told you to get out, too. Hell, I would have told you a lot more than that.”

  I didn’t respond. There was no point. Gam was severely ticked off at me, not letting me get a full sentence out, and I needed a breather. “I’m gonna go get a drink. You take ten deep breaths while I’m gone and when I get back, we’re going to talk like normal people, got it?”

  I stood up and started my way to the kitchen.

  “You sure you’re coming back, right? You’re not gonna just leave and then not call me for weeks on end?” she called out.

  I gritted my teeth and kept on walking. My head throbbed and I just wanted to get in my car and go, but I knew that if I left, the next time I saw Gam it would be five hundred times worse. Pausing halfway across the kitchen, I gripped the back of the kitchen chair tightly and lowered my head, sighing loudly.

  Michelle hated me.

  Gam was mad at me.

  Even Brody was pissed at me.

  Every part of my life was a fucking mess, and I didn’t even know where to begin cleaning it—or if I even wanted to.

  “You okay?” Kat asked softly from somewhere behind me.

  “Not really,” I said quietly, shaking my head.

  She took a step to the side of me. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Without taking my hands off the chair, I turned my head and looked at her. Her jet-black hair was the same, her tattoos were the same, and her eyes were the same. Other than that, I hardly recognized her. She chewed nervously on the corner of her dark red lip as she waited for my answer. The old Kat would have told me to shut the fuck up and get over whatever it was that was pissing me off, but this Kat looked timid and sweet . . . softer.

  “Uh . . . no. I’ll be fine,” I grumbled as I straightened up from the chair and went to the fridge.

  “Congratulations, by the way.”

  “For what?” I bent down and reached way in the back of the fridge where Gam kept my bottles of root beer.

  “Your baby.”

  Baby. Baby. My baby.

  My hand closed around the bottle and froze. “How did you know about that?”

  “Michelle was here yesterday, with Gam. They were talking in the kitchen, and there isn’t exactly a lot of room in here, so I overheard.”

  I grabbed the bottle and shut the fridge. “Gotcha. Well, thanks.”

  “You’re going to be a great dad,” she added, peeking up at me from under her long, dark bangs.

  I twisted the cap off of the root beer and took a long drink, the carbonation stinging the back of my throat.

  As I lowered the bottle from my mouth, I leaned against the counter and stared at her. “Doubtful.”

  “No it’s not.” She shook her head.

  “Sorry about my text the other night,” I said, changing the subject. “I was really drunk and don’t even really remember doing it.”

  She rolled her eyes and cracked a smile. “I figured. It was pretty random.”

  “Yeah . . . anyway, sorry about the text. Sorry about being a jerk.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself nervously. “Thanks. I appreciate the apology. I get it though. I’m sure it was weird for you to show up to your grandma’s house and see me here, of all people. Then again, I know you’ve had a lot of . . . people . . . in your life, so I’m not trying to say I was memorable or anything.”

  I let out a quick laugh. “By people you mean women?”

  She shrugged. “Kinda.”

  “I’ve definitely had my fair share of “people” but you weren’t like all the others. It was different with you.”

  Her face flushed as she looked away shyly. “Thanks. That means a lot. I’m not the same girl I was back then, but I do have some really good memories of us . . . together.”

  “Lawrence! Quit being a chicken shit and get back out here!” Gam called from the living room.

  I raised my eyebrows and gave her a tight smile without saying anything as I left the room.

  I set my root beer on the coffee table.

  “Okay. Where were we?” I said with a sigh as I sat back on the couch. “Let me have it.”

  Her shoulders dropped and her face relaxed. “I don’t want to let you have it. That’s not what I want at all. I do want to understand why you’re acting like this though.”

  “Acting like what? Maybe I’m not acting like anything.” I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, looking her straight in the eye. “Just like I told Brody, maybe this is the real me. I’ve been the same guy all my life, then for the last year, I was someone else. Maybe that was the act.”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute.”

  “Believe what you want. I don’t know who I am anymore and I’m trying to figure it the fuck out the best way I know how.”

  Her head jerked back in surprise. “By ignoring your family? That’s the best way?”

  “I don’t know what to do!” I yelled and threw my hands in the air as I stood and paced the room. “I don’t know that I even want a kid. I wasn’t even given the choice. What if I’m a bad dad? What if this kid doesn’t like me? What if I never play hockey again and can’t support it? What if I can play hockey again but my team doesn’t need me anymore? These questions, plus a million others, buzz around my head all fucking day long until I can’t see straight anymore, so I check out. I ignore everything and everyone until I figure out how to deal with all of this shit.”

  Gam took a slow, deep breath and tilted her head to the side. “I know there has been a lot of change for you in a very short period of time, but running away isn’t going to fix it. It’s only going to make it worse.”

  “I’m not running away, I’m just thinking,” I defended.

  “Same thing,” she said in a gentle, but stern tone. “If you want to solve your problems, you need to turn toward them, not away.”

  Gam wasn’t the first person who�
�d said something like that to me. “I know,” I said with a sigh. “Look, I’ll come back later if you want to yell at me more, but I have therapy at ten thirty and I gotta get going.”

  “I don’t want to yell at you, Lawrence, but I do want to shake the hell out of you and wake you up. If you don’t think fast, you’re going to lose your lid.”

  I frowned at her. “My lid?”

  “Yes, my mother used to say that every pot—”

  “Has a lid,” I finished the sentence for her with an eye roll. “I remember you saying that now. You used to say it all the time when I was little.”

  “I said it to Michelle yesterday, and she loved it.”

  My gaze dropped to the ground and I rubbed my cheek with my hand. “How is she anyway?” I asked nonchalantly. “Like, I mean, how did she look? Okay?”

  “I should tell you that she was sad and heartbroken and had dark circles under her eyes and cried all morning, but you know what . . . she looked radiant. Her hair looked shiny, her eyes were sparkling, and her skin absolutely glowed. Pregnancy looks amazing on her. And of course, she has a little baby bump.”

  My eyes shot up to hers. “She does?”

  Gam nodded with a small smile. “It’s still pretty tiny, but it’s there. Cutest little belly I’ve ever seen.”

  The thought of Michelle happily rubbing her pregnant belly popped into my head, and my heart started racing. My throat felt like it was closing and my fingers started to tingle again. “Okay, I gotta run. I’ll call you later.” My stomach twisted and turned as I walked to the front door an opened it, gulping in as much fresh air as I could all at once.

  “Think about what I said,” Gam called out.

  I gave her a quick wave and hurried out the door to my car. Once I sat down, I gripped the steering wheel tight in my hands and tried to breathe slow so that I didn’t pass out.

  After a few seconds, everything calmed down and I felt like myself again, but instead of heading to therapy, I rescheduled my appointment with Sherman and headed back home.

  The third week of November rolled around, officially marking one month since Viper and I had spoken face to face. With every day that passed, I lost a little more hope and anger grew in its place.

  Gam and I talked regularly and every time we did, she asked me to keep holding on, but what was I holding on to?

  Fantasies? Dreams? Fairytales?

  Those didn’t exist to me anymore.

  Gam would tell me what Viper was up to and that he’d asked about me and the kids, but it only irritated me. I wasn’t in junior high and I didn’t like Gam being the middleman, so eventually, I asked her not to talk about him anymore. Until, and if ever, he grew up.

  “This was so silly,” I said to Kacie as we pulled out of the parking lot at my doctor’s office.

  “No it wasn’t,” Kacie disagreed as she buckled her seatbelt. “I haven’t been to a baby doctor in a long time. I missed the smell.”

  “The smell?” I shot her a quick glance out of the corner of my eye and shook my head. “You’re so weird.”

  “Shut up!” she squealed in a high-pitched voice. “I am not.”

  “Uh . . . if you miss the smell of the OB’s office? Yes, that makes you weird. Do you miss peeing in a cup, too?”

  “Ugh. I’ve peed in enough cups to last me a lifetime. Wait, where are you going?” she asked as I turned the car to the right.

  “I’m celebrating the fact that I only gained four pounds this month with a milkshake.” I let out a quick giggle. “Want one?”

  “Hell yes! Chocolate, please. This might be the first milkshake in my whole life that I haven’t had to share with any kids. No joke.” She laughed as I pulled up to the window.

  “In that case,”—I turned toward the speaker—“can I get two extra-large chocolate shakes, please? With extra whipped cream?”

  Kacie let out an exaggerated sigh. “I just love you. Here, my treat.”

  “Get outta here.” I pushed her hand away as she tried to hand me money. “Buying you a damn milkshake is the least I can do for you going with me today.”

  “Seriously, it’s my pleasure. While I don’t exactly miss being pregnant, I loved my baby appointments, looked forward to them all month long.”

  I looked over and gave her a tight smile. “They are kinda fun.”

  “And . . . in like eight weeks, you get to find out what you’re having.”

  “Thank you,” I said as I took the shakes from the worker and handed them to Kacie. “I totally forgot about that. I haven’t even decided if I want to find out.”

  Kacie turned to me with wide eyes and a frozen expression.

  “What?” I asked defensively. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Cause Auntie Kacie wants to find out so she can go shopping. If you don’t want to know, look away, but I am all over that.”

  I let out a hearty laugh as she popped straws in both of our shakes and handed one to me. “Okay, fine. I’ll find out.”

  “Ahem,” she said dramatically. “I think you mean we’ll find out.”

  Thanksgiving was just a few days away and Gam had insisted the kids and I come for dinner . . . about fifty times. As bad as my mouth watered every time she talked about turkey and stuffing and potatoes and cranberry sauce, I declined. Gam loved me and I loved her, but she was still Viper’s grandmother. The thought of a quiet little Thanksgiving with just the three of us didn’t sound all that bad anyway.

  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.

&
nbsp; 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.