Poppy's Passions (6 page)

"That's my girl,” Michael crooned in sweet, deep tones she recognized from their time in bed. “You have the prettiest blue eyes. Did I tell you that the last time I saw you? I should have if I didn't. I've missed how they sort of sparkle, even now they're twinkling up a storm. How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

"Michael?” She'd dreamed of them so often she couldn't be sure he was real.

"Yes, ma'am,” he answered, taking a gentle hold of her hand. “I'm right here with you. How are you feeling?"

She squeezed his hand as discomfort grew. “Kinda’ rough."

"The doctor should be around to see you again soon,” he promised. “Do you need me to call the nurse?"

"I'm okay for now.” The pain was helping to clear her mind past the medication haze. “Is everyone okay?"

"Yep, Cody's with Trevor and both are okay."

"What happened? Who was that guy?” She adjusted and found the pain was radiating from her left shoulder. “Ouch."

"Yeah, ouch is right,” he agreed and moved a pillow to brace her arm better. “The good news is the guy with the gun is a horrible shot and only grazed your shoulder. He's one of the racers Trevor was competing against."

"The one who lost all the money Trevor said he won?"

"That's the one. So, good news, you will be okay. The bad news is, it's going to hurt for a while and it's going to itch like crazy once it starts healing. Now, beautiful, do you think you're up to answering a few questions for the detective? We know you didn't see much, but he needs a statement. It should only take a few minutes."

"Miss Maguire, I'm Detective Masterson.” He offered his badge before she could ask. Not that it occurred to her the grandfatherly man with kind eyes was anything but a detective. “Michael's right, I won't keep you from your rest. I need to ask you a few questions. First, can you describe what was happening before the attack?"

It only took a few minutes to explain the bulk of what she saw. She gave the details she remembered while the detective nodded and wrote notes in his tiny pad. Michael stayed by her side and helped the detective reword things when her medicated mind didn't understand the questions. She knew Michael had been a detective but seeing him in action reaffirmed her assumption of how good he was.

"A guy in green gear ripped the curtain and pointed the gun at Trevor. I was in front of him. I think Trevor must have pushed me to the floor,” she said absently. Her eyes widened as the words sunk in. She couldn't stop her hands as they flew to her stomach, still big and dormant.

"Babies are tough, Ms. Maguire,” the detective told her with a reassuring smile. Beside her Michael's comforting hand went from stroke to grab. “That's all I need for now. We have the suspect red-handed, you could say, as he was still holding the gun when security got to the scene. It was a scary time with these boys dogpiled on him, but they kept him from shooting anyone else.

"We're hopeful for a full confession and ideally he'll wise up and plead guilty. I'll be in contact with more details when this comes up in the justice department. He's here on a special visa, so things might get tied up for a while. It could be a few weeks or months but I've got your information, so I'll be in touch."

Michael shook his hand and sat again, quiet until the detective closed the door behind him. She watched him think, an animated process with him as he was probably gauging how big she was and counting back weeks.

Finally, he reached out and tentatively laid his hand on her bulging stomach. “Pretty big.” He cleared his throat. “Were you pregnant before our night?"

"Nope. Twins are tucked in there.” Relief rushed with the words and she was grateful for the detective's assumption and interference. The opening line had always been the one she couldn't get when she practiced what she would say to them. With the block gone, the words came easily. “Apparently a condom or two or three failed."

"And you couldn't find us. And we couldn't find you either. Even at your apartment."

"Trevor told me about trying to call. I hate telemarketers so I never give my cell number. My apartment was too small for me and two babies. I bought a townhouse on the other end of town before I got too big to move myself. I've been there two months now, and I like it.” She was rambling but couldn't stop. “It's a nice house, and it's closer to the places I work. I've been worried about telling you, even though I've wanted to. This whole situation is going to be so complicated.” There was more to say, more fears and concerns, but her stomach had other plans. “Gonna puke."

Michael was quick on his feet, she would give him that, and they avoided a major mess with a well placed basin. The nurse, not Tammy, administered nausea meds along with another dose of pain medication before Poppy was transferred to an observation room. Trevor was in yet another room, finally being seen and having his arm treated. Cody was staying with him until he was released.

There was nothing to do, nothing left to worry about with her secret out. The men she'd wanted were finally close and relatively okay. There was so much to discuss and decide, but her arm hurt and the tired from earlier had become exhaustion. As the excitement ebbed, so did her ability to focus. Michael must have recognized the signs, because he nicely cleared the room of her co-workers and concerned hospital administrators.

The weekend promised to be an interesting, exhausting few days. She closed her eyes as she relaxed against her pillows, extra warming blankets tucked around her as the shock and injury reversed the constant overheating she usually felt. Michael sat beside her, a magazine he wasn't reading in hand. He was watching her and every so often his eyes strayed to her belly.

"Still there.” Her words were slurred but clear enough for him to smile.

"They sure are,” he agreed. “You should sleep, sweetheart. Trevor and Cody will be over soon and you know how noisy they are."

"Yeah."

They were quiet a minute, the beeping of her monitors the only sound in the room. She fought the drugs and her own exhaustion. So many unknowns remained and she wasn't sure what she would face when she woke.

"I'll be here when you wake up."

She turned her head and wondered how he knew she wasn't sleeping.

"I can tell,” he said with a little smile. “I spent some time pretending to sleep in hospitals. If you'll let the medication do its job and rest, I'll tell you all about it when you wake up."

"You won't leave? Promise?"

"I promise."

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As was the norm with the Patrich brothers, whose real name was Paraby, Poppy found herself doing things she wouldn't normally even consider. Case in point, flying first-class, in a window seat, on her way to Montana. Good to his word, Michael had been beside her bed when she woke and hadn't left. Even when the simple hospital stay turned into a three day event he remained by her side. Cody and Trevor added to the rotation during her misery, and she'd never had to be in the cold room alone.

She'd spent the last seventy-two hours throwing up and running to the toilet, courtesy of one of the many horrid bugs that seemed to nest in hospitals. To their credit, the Parabys took it in stride. They called the nurses at first when she was ill but by day two they'd had no problem helping her themselves. Without her asking, they assisted her in the shower, helped her wash her hair, and took care of her with more determination than skill.

The nurses were envious, her associates having no qualms about telling her how lucky she was and Poppy understood why. She knew exactly what kind of men they had to be to try so hard.

Cody, who didn't do well with illness, did what he could, leaving the heavier things to Trevor and Michael. They didn't necessarily enjoy the tasks but didn't pass out either. Cody had done his part by remembering her favorite foods and finding the warmest, softest socks she'd ever owned at ten o'clock at night after she said her feet were cold.

The time was also passed with long talks. She listened to each of them as they tried together and individually to convince her to come to the ranch. For now it was a visit, a couple weeks to get to know them better. The babies deserved to know their father's home, didn't they? Michael had driven in that point.

Cody was quick to point out that he and his brothers were the reason behind her fatigue and injury, though she refused to lay blame on anyone but the shooter himself. The pregnancy was something she was happy to endure but when he brought up backrubs, long baths and chocolate chip cookies, he'd snagged her attention.

Of course, Trevor's promise to fuck like bunnies had some sway of its own.

Only two other passengers were flying first-class, both of them sleeping toward the front, so it was quiet, and Poppy needed quiet to think. Three men. How was she supposed to pick one? The past four months hadn't diminished the way she felt about them. They were good men, wonderful men, and she loved being around them. There was no doubt in her mind she would love one if she chose, but what about the other two?

She'd never felt she inspired jealousy but between these specific brothers, she thought it could happen. They might be fine sharing her, but it would stop, of course, after she chose one, and she knew she had to choose one. How else could they make anything work, especially with kids? Kids needed a mom and a dad ideally. More than one of either in the same house didn't seem like it could work, and she wasn't going to subjugate her kids to a socially objectionable lifestyle just because she liked sex with three men. If all three never found their way to her bed again, she would be just fine.

One. She could choose one.

Then the other two would go on and be happy with other women. The thought of whoever she didn't choose in the arms of someone else made her grit her teeth. She didn't even know the women yet, and she already hated them. Worse, she hated herself for the jealousy she felt toward the fictitious hussies.

They'd only been reunited for days, but the familiarity had roared back from where they left off months before. They felt like what family was supposed to be and even if it seemed wrong, at least it was nothing like her father's family. She wanted to keep them. Every single one. Being accepted and loved by each individually and mutually was the only thing that made sense.

"Hey, what's wrong, baby?” Back from the bathroom powwow they'd left for ten minutes earlier, Trevor sat beside her. “Feeling okay?"

"No.” She wasn't surprised when tears started to fall.

"Excuse me, ma'am? Can you get my wife some ginger ale or something to settle her stomach?” she heard Trevor ask the flight attendant while Cody got out several little white bags.

"It's not that.” Though Lord knew it could be at any moment. The title he used didn't help her predicament either.

"We can have you to the hospital in Missoula in about an hour, beautiful,” Michael said, alarm in his eyes though his tone was calm as usual.

"How the heck am I going to pick one of you?” she muttered to herself and covered her face, rubbing the heels of her hands to her eyes.

"Did she say one of us?” Cody said. “Did one of you tell her she had to choose?"

"Fuck no,” was Trevor's reply, Michael shaking his head when she peeked through her hands. “Baby, you don't have to choose."

"Yeah, Poppy,” Cody continued where Trevor left off, quiet and reassuring while he said the craziest damn thing she'd ever heard. “All three of us want you. Just you. It's a thing I think we've always known. We work better as a team, hell you know that from four months ago."

"But..."Accepting the pop and blanket from the flight attendant, she tried to hide her unease until the woman left. The question pounding at her mind had been one she'd considered even before their night together. It wasn't an easy thought to entertain, let alone voice, but she had to ask. “Where else does this go? Do the three of you, um...is it because you have sexual feelings for each other?"

Dead silence met her question, and she sank deeper into her seat as she waited for some kind of response.

"Whoa, did she just ask if we like fucking each other?” The toneless whisper from Trevor put into words the question she'd been too afraid to ask.

"This doesn't go anywhere near what you are worried about,” Michael answered, ignoring Trevor, as she'd found was the best answer to most of his more outrageous comments. “I love my brothers but not in a sexual way and that won't ever be an issue. For us, a relationship like this is another version of family. It's a completely personal decision the three of us have made, and has absolutely no base in us wanting each other. Individually we need the woman we love as protected and happy as possible. We know that means all three of us working together."

"The guy who had the most determined sperm doesn't care if those babies are his biologically, just like the others don't care if they're actually uncles,” Cody added. “We want you to be our family, Poppy. No other woman. Today, you're very important to us, and I think we matter to you too. Tomorrow, it's going to be more and the next day and the next until someday, real soon I'm thinking, there's going to be a hell of a lot of love in our home."

She settled her head on Trevor's shoulder as she thought. It was an improbable sort of idea, but it sounded tempting. A family. Even when her sisters tried not to be bitter there wasn't a connection between them like she'd seen between other siblings. Her father was...unbending. If he'd ever known joy it was long gone, replaced by structure, rules and his stringent set of proprieties.

What they proposed wasn't something she was familiar with, but what did she know about family? Really. What made one better than the other or more right than another?

"I want a home and a family.” The whispered admission was from her heart, but not an easy one to make.

"You've got one now, pretty baby,” Trevor promised, squeezing her close. “No more worries about this thing, okay? I swear to God, Cody doesn't do anything for me. You've probably heard I like blondes, and that's what is confusing you. Michael may be blond but ug, old guys don't count."