Forever Starts Tonight (Wilder Family #4)

Chapter 12

Jax

There were probably a million better, smarter, calmer ways to handle this, but every single fucking option flew out of my fucking head the moment I saw her hand on her obviously pregnant belly.

Pregnant.

Poppy was pregnant.

I didn’t know much about pregnancy, or when a woman started showing, but no matter how much I avoided her over the years, I knew Poppy Wilder, and all it took was one solitary glance at the way the color drained from her face, the way her eyes were full of shock and apology, and I fucking knew that baby was mine.

“You’re pregnant?” I said again, voice raspy and low in disbelief. “You’re pregnant ?”

No one moved.

If a single nail fell on the ground, the echo would’ve sounded like a gunshot.

Slowly, Poppy nodded, and a hint of pink crept into her pale, pale cheeks. Next to her, Cameron narrowed his eyes.

“Why do you sound so pissed right now?” my best friend asked quietly. It was a dangerous sort of quiet too, and I struggled not to give anything away on my face .

Poppy’s eyes fluttered closed for just a moment. At her side, Sheila Wilder kept her face impassive, but she gently wrapped an arm around Poppy’s back.

“That’s why you texted me?” I shouted.

After a visible swallow, Poppy nodded again.

Ian Wilder let out a sharp gust of air, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“I think we need to go talk somewhere,” I said grimly.

“Jax, why do you sound so pissed off right now?” Cameron asked again, his voice rising loudly.

Wade, our longtime foreman, stood behind me, and I heard his muttered, “Fuck me sideways, I did not see this coming.”

The first person to move was Greer Wilder—the oldest Wilder sister, the one I’d worked with for over a decade, and at the moment, quite possibly the scariest woman in the world. Slowly, she looked down at the worktable next to her and picked up a hammer, hefting its weight in her normally very graceful hand.

“Greer,” I warned.

She nodded sharply. “Yup, this’ll do just fine.”

Sheila Wilder covered her mouth with a visibly shaking hand, and Poppy gave her sister a frantic look. “Greer, wait?—”

And then, with every man in the room watching with a slightly terrified widening of their eyes, Greer brushed past Poppy with a ferocious look on her face, hammer gripped tight in her fist, and she strode toward me in a way that had me backing up with my hands raised.

“Greer, hold on,” I shouted.

She did not hold on.

People behind her were shouting—Poppy yelling at Cameron, and Cameron was yelling at Ian, but no one was overly concerned with the angry, armed woman bearing down on me .

“Can’t someone grab her?” I asked frantically.

“You asshole,” Greer hissed.

I tried to back up again but bumped into Wade, who did me no favors by blocking my exit back up the stairs.

God, Greer probably would’ve swung that hammer straight up at my balls too, but Ian Wilder took pity on me, darting forward to snatch his sister around the waist, yanking her back just before she could do any permanent damage.

She kicked her legs out. “Put me down , Ian.”

“Everyone, outside. Now ,” Ian bellowed. Any yelling stopped immediately. With Greer struggling against his grip, Ian gave Cameron a quick, hard look. “You too, Cameron.”

As the crew shuffled out, curiosity clear in the way they glanced between Poppy and me and Cameron. I tried to reconcile the way my entire life had flipped on its axis in the span of about three minutes.

I couldn’t, though. There was no reconciling this. Not yet.

Greer finally finagled out of Ian’s hold, but instead of trying to murder me with a hammer, she dropped it on the ground, immediately wrapping her little sister up in a tight embrace and whispering something to Poppy that I couldn’t hear.

But Poppy nodded, and I heard a pitiful sniffle that had my gut churning.

Alone. She’d been alone for months while I was off hiking fucking Europe and watching sunsets and completely disconnecting from the world. It hadn’t been a self-centered trip, but the timing of it now held an oil-slick feeling of exactly that. Selfishness.

What if something had happened? What if she’d lost the baby, and I wasn’t here?

A baby.

A fucking baby.

My hands started shaking, and I crossed my arms, trying to stem the beginnings of a panic attack as it crawled over my skin.

What do I do?

What do I do ? I thought frantically.

My eyes locked on Poppy, taking in the pale color of her face because I wasn’t the only one stunned right now. God, she had no idea I was back, and judging by the complete explosion of her siblings, I wasn’t the only one getting their world rocked.

She clearly hadn’t told anyone it was me, and the two unread texts that popped up on my phone when I turned it on last night suddenly felt like a lead weight hooked into my stomach. She tried .

When you spend a life crafted around emotionally safe decisions, moments like this felt like walking across a canyon on nothing but a flimsy thread for support. Nothing on either side of me but air. My pulse skipped dangerously, and I pulled in a slow breath through my nose.

What do I do?

Self-loathing was a foreign feeling, and I hated the way it climbed around my ribs and took root in my stomach. It was dark and bitter, something you couldn’t erase quickly or easily. That was the thing about any feeling born in shame. Those roots went deep, and pulling them out alone was almost impossible.

Eventually, Greer pulled away from Poppy, and she cupped her sister’s cheek, then said something else. Poppy gave her big sister a tiny smile, then nodded again. The color was coming back into her face.

Cameron, however, still hadn’t budged. His eyes seared into my skin, and when I finally tore my gaze from Poppy to his, that self-loathing grew into something else.

His disappointment left me feeling so ice cold, I could practically feel the frost climbing through my veins. Hadn’t I promised him that I’d never? Could never. Would never .

Promises were flimsy foundations when you didn’t really know what your future looked like. Or what hers looked like either. Years ago, it felt simple enough to say that because one look was nothing. Years ago, it was impossible to believe that she’d still look at me like I was something, someone, vital to her.

“Cameron,” Poppy snapped. “Knock it off.”

His eyes dropped to the floor, his arms tightening as he crossed them over his chest.

“Tell them to come back inside,” Poppy called out to Ian’s retreating back.

I blinked.

So did Cameron.

Poppy took a deep breath. “There’s no reason for them to stop working. We can go outside and talk,” she told me.

With a tight jaw and a racing heart, I nodded. How different this was from the last time I was close to her—sleep-rumpled in my kitchen while she gave me the sweetest, softest fucking kiss on my cheek. Even after she left, I caught whiffs of her shampoo.

I didn’t count our brief exchange in her empty office. I’d been so locked down, refusing to show even the slightest flicker of how fucking unhinged I felt being in her presence again. If I’d looked at her too long or said more than her name, I would’ve lost it. As it was, that one tiny moment—a polite hello and those questions in her eyes—had my hands shaking from the desire to shove her against the wall and have her just one more time before I left, something, anything to prolong that one night into something neither of us would forget while I was gone.

And look at that. I’d succeeded without realizing it. Because there was definitely no forgetting it now. Just thinking it had my chest feeling tight, a giant invisible screw straight through my sternum .

There was a back entrance to the store, so I held my arm out and gestured for Poppy to precede me.

The heat from Cameron’s gaze bored into my back as I followed Poppy outside. Of course, I’d have to talk to him eventually. Hopefully, he wouldn’t go for any sharp-edged tools like his sister. Knowing him, he’d just need one good punch, and we’d be fine.

I rubbed at my chest, praying we’d be fine.

As Poppy walked in front of me, I couldn’t help but stare. From the back, you couldn’t tell anything was different. Her waist still nipped in at the sides, and there was no change in her hips or backside.

Not yet, at least.

The door was held open with a wedge, and behind the building were piles of dirt from the initial dig. A small picnic table and some camping chairs sat in the shadow of the roofline, where the crew normally had lunch.

Neither of us sat.

My hands were in tight fists, my arms crossed over my chest as I watched Poppy turn in a slow circle before finally meeting my eyes.

“I tried to text you while you were gone,” she said. “I didn’t … I didn’t realize you’d be away for months when you left.”

I slicked my tongue over my teeth and tried to pick out one, just one, single rational thought. It was impossible, though.

Poppy Wilder stood in front of me, her eyes full of apology and worry, pregnant with my fucking child. God, what a mess.

“Your text didn’t come through until I landed last night. I keep an international phone just for emergencies. Your brother has the number, but…” I answered.

“He didn’t know,” she finished quietly, her hands wringing nervously in front of her.

“You told me we’d be okay,” I said, and the words came out harsher than I intended. Her brow furrowed at my tone. Already fucking this up. I clenched my teeth together, willing down the strongest of my emotions until I could speak again. “What happened?”

Poppy sucked in a quick breath through her nose. “I was sick the week before I saw you, and I … I didn’t know antibiotics messed with my pills. It lessens the effectiveness.”

I swiped a hand over my mouth and managed a tight nod.

A child.

A child with Poppy.

“Are you okay?” I asked, studying her face, noting the slight dark circles under her eyes. “Like, do you feel all right?”

At first, Poppy just stared. Then her chin quivered.

“Shit,” I muttered when the first tear slipped down her cheek.

A heartbeat later, she sank on the picnic table, dropped her head in her hands, and started crying. Her shoulders shook, and I stared at the sky because me and crying women were never, ever a good combination.

I eased myself down into a crouch in front of her and gently patted her shoulder while she purged all the things she must have been holding in while I was gone.

“I didn’t know what to do, Jax,” she said, lifting her head, making no effort to wipe the wetness off her face. “You were gone, and I wasn’t going to tell them it was you when I couldn’t even tell you it was you. And I had that date that night, you know? They all assumed it was him.”

“Oh great, so they think the father is the banker douche who got stabbed in the hand?”

Poppy’s eyes flashed, the spark of anger so hot that I almost backed away. “What other option did I have? I couldn’t tell them the truth! I couldn’t tell them it was you before you came home. And I didn’t know you were back. You think I wanted you to find out this way?” My hand was still awkwardly patting her shoulder, and she smacked it away, standing to pace the small area in front of the picnic table. “Stop patting me. I’m not a little kid.”

Because I wanted to keep my limbs intact, I stood a safe distance away and let her unload.

“I was going to wait for Cameron or Greer to tell me you were home, and I was going to call you,” she said on a frustrated rush. “And then, then I could finally tell you and move on because I’d know for sure if you didn’t want to be involved or?—”

“Why would I not want to be involved?” I interjected.

That stopped her short. Her hair was a mess, the ponytail from earlier had slipped out of its tie, the dark hair falling over her shoulder while she gaped at me. “You do?”

“You thought I’d make you do it alone?” I asked.

“I don’t want a girlfriend, I don’t want a wife, I don’t want a family ,” she tossed back at me, eyes still blazing. “I don’t want a family , you said. Your exact words. So no, I wasn’t assuming anything. For all I knew, you’d hear the news and bounce the hell out of town, never to be seen again,” she said in a wobbling voice. “Lord knows you do it enough.”

My skin was crawling. Anger and frustration and regret on a sickening loop in my head.

“Fuck,” I ground out, kicking at a small rock by my feet. “Yes, I said that, but?—”

“Do not tell me you didn’t mean it because I know better than that,” she said hotly. “I know you, Jax Cartwright. Don’t pretend I don’t. I walked into your house that night with my eyes wide open.” Poppy covered her face with her hands. When she dropped them, the look in her eyes about did me in, carving my chest hollow. “You don’t get to be mad at how I handled this, okay? You were gone, and I did my best.”

How ugly it was to face the consequences of all your choices like this. For years, I refused to put too much thought into why I avoided serious relationships. Even semi-serious.

If I tried hard enough, I could still hear my mom chatter on and on about how she’d find someone to take care of her. Take care of us. She never did, but the absence of that person felt like a giant fucking shadow over our entire life.

And I’d become someone who, understandably, couldn’t be relied on.

I came and went as I pleased, and never, ever let myself get in a position where my actions might cause disappointment.

Look at how well I did there.

“I know you did, Poppy,” I said. “But you have to give me a chance to catch up here, okay? I’m a little…” I clawed for the right word. “Thrown.”

The rigid tension in her shoulders deflated, and the spark of heat died from her eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. I really didn’t want this to happen in front of an audience.”

“Your sister might murder me the next time I turn my back.”

Poppy’s mouth lifted in a wry grin. A tiny one, but it was there. “No, she won’t. I won’t let her.”

“You gonna protect me now?”

“No one messes with the pregnant sister, trust me. Not even Greer.” She smoothed a hand over her small bump. “I have the ultimate trump card here.”

My eyes locked in on that movement, and my chest thumped uncomfortably. There were a million things to discuss, details that wouldn’t even cross my mind until I’d had more time to process this. But that, that tiny person inside her wasn’t a discussion point. Wasn’t one of a million details.

It was my child.

Our child.

“Do you … do you know what it is yet?”

She shook her head. “My next appointment is in four weeks. I can—we can,” she amended slowly, “do an ultrasound then, if we want to know. If you’d like to come, that is. ”

My gaze flew up to hers, but I didn’t say anything.

Poppy’s cheeks were so pink as she stared up at me, her eyes so wide. God, what she must be thinking. What she must have felt, keeping this a secret for months. She’d done that to protect me if I was honest about it. And I hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve it if I was honest about that too.

Wade came through the back door, eyeing the distance between us. “Poppy, sorry to interrupt, but they decided I was the only one safe to come back here in case they heard something that would require acid to be poured down their ears.”

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my mouth. “What is it, Wade?”

“Sheila said you two had lunch plans with someone, and she wanted to know if you wanted her to reschedule.”

Poppy glanced at her watch, brow pinching when she saw the time. “Shoot, okay. I’ll be right there.” She glanced at me again. “Can we … can we talk soon? We’ve got…” Her eyes fluttered shut, and her hand fluttered to her temple while she sighed. “We’ve got a lot more to discuss that we shouldn’t get into now.”

I nodded tightly, crossing my arms again, watching her lay a hand on Wade’s arm as she passed. He kept his eyes locked on me while she did.

The silence stretched. And stretched. I exhaled heavily.

“You got something to say, Wade?” I asked.

Like he had all the time in the fucking world, Wade pulled the unlit cigarette from where it was wedged underneath his beat-up fishing hat. His favorite lighter, a bright blue metallic thing he always carried with him, hissed to life with the flick of a button, and he took a slow drag, blowing the smoke up to the blue sky.

“If I was Tim Wilder,” he said slowly, “I’d haunt your ass until the day you die. ”

Pretty sure my eye twitched as I stared at him. “Thanks. That’s helpful.”

“I’m talking flickering lights. Breaking shit when you’re not looking. Wake you up in the middle of the night by giving you nightmares. All of it until you slowly lose your mind.”

I slicked my tongue over my teeth. “You done yet?”

He blew out another stream of smoke. “Greer’s ready to castrate you. Ian’s talking her down, but Cameron still hasn’t said a damn word.” He eyed me carefully. “I think you’re the unlucky bastard to be the first to rock their world since he died, you know?”

Just the position I always wanted to be in. Trigger an already protective family and launch those instincts into the stratosphere, fueled by grief and missing their dad’s steady presence.

“It wasn’t … I didn’t plan any of this. It was just one night,” I told him.

He held up a hand, eyes pinching shut. “I do not want details, kid.”

I nodded.

Wade let out a long sigh, glancing back inside the store, where the sounds of tools and conversation filtered outside. “I think you should take the afternoon, Jax. Go clear your head. Let them do the same. Maybe try to talk to Cameron after he’s done with work and less likely to…”

“Dismember me?”

“Basically.” His mouth edged up in a ghost of a smile.

Since high school, Cameron was one of the solid rocks in my life. He’d never tried to change who I was and always accepted me, flaws and all. This was the single worst way I could’ve betrayed his trust, and still, I knew him well enough to know he’d do his best not to lash out until he could get his thoughts settled.

I could give him the afternoon.

“Yeah. I’ll do that,” I told Wade .

“You do right by that girl, Jax,” he said, voice harder than I’d ever heard it. “It’s the only way you come out of this intact.”

He disappeared back into the house, and I sank onto the picnic table bench, let my head fall into my hands, and tried to figure out what the fuck I was supposed to do now.