My Hero, page 6
My dick was rock hard in my jeans, and I knew all it would take to push me over the edge was a glimpse of Poppy.
“Uh, I’ll be right out,” Poppy called from the bathroom.
I turned to face the door to leave, my heart racing with anticipation. “Uh, I was just coming to ask you if you wanted to get something to eat.”
“Are you making breakfast?” she called back.
“Uh, no. I actually need to run a few errands and thought maybe you would want to come with me,” I replied, my voice strained with desire. I didn’t know what I was thinking. I should have just done everything by myself, but the thought of leaving the clubhouse without Poppy didn’t sit right with me.
“We’re leaving the clubhouse?” Her voice sounded closer now.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw her standing in the doorway of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body, her damp hair splayed around her like a halo.
“Yarder?” she called, breaking me out of my trance.
“Uh, yeah. Only for an hour or so, though. I just thought you might want to get some fresh air,” I managed to say, my gaze lingering on her enticing figure.
“It’s safe?” she asked, her eyes searching mine for reassurance.
“You think I would do anything with you that wouldn’t be safe?” I drawled, unable to hide the smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.
A smile spread across her lips in response. “I’m in. Just give me five minutes,” she said, her voice filled with a hint of excitement.
As she disappeared back into the bathroom to finish getting ready, I let out a shaky breath, trying to calm the fire burning within me.
God damn, if Poppy wasn’t the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on.
Chapter Ten
Poppy
I had hoped we would take the motorcycle, and to my delight, we did. It was thrilling to be on the back of Yarder’s motorcycle, the wind whipping through my hair as we sped down the open road. My arms were wrapped tightly around his waist, holding on to him as if he were my lifeline.
The closeness between us was intoxicating, sending shivers down my spine as I pressed my body against his. With every twist and turn of the road, I could feel the rumble of the engine beneath us, the vibrations reverberating through my body.
I had been worried when I stepped out of the bathroom that things would be weird between the two of us after my little escapade in the shower, but it wasn’t. Yarder acted like he didn’t know what I had done, and strangely enough, I felt lighter after coming. It was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and a rush of endorphins flooded my body.
Now, with my legs wrapped around Yarder and my front pressed against his back, my body yearned for him. From the vibrations of the bike to the warmth of his body against mine, I was a goner for Yarder, and he technically hadn’t even touched me more than right now.
I was sure the reason why I was running hot for Yarder was because I hadn’t had sex in a really long time. That had to be why.
Yarder reached back, his palm resting on my thigh as he squeezed gently. “You good with Waffle House?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the roar of the motorcycle.
I nodded, my heart racing with excitement. “Works for me!” I shouted back, my words lost in the wind.
A few miles down the road, Yarder pulled into the parking lot of a Waffle House, and we dismounted from the bike. I was sore from the ride, even though it had only been half an hour.
“You’ll get used to it,” Yarder chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
I stretched my legs and gingerly stood, feeling a bit wobbly from the ride. “Does that mean we’re going for more rides?” I asked, trying to ignore the suggestive tone in my voice. However, a part of me wouldn’t mind taking another kind of ride with Yarder, one that left us both sweaty and breathless in the end.
“Poppy,” Yarder called, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You good?”
I blinked, realizing I had been lost in a daydream about Yarder, and plastered a smile on my face. “I’ve never been better, Yarder,” I replied, my voice tinged with embarrassment.
He grunted in response and grabbed my hand, leading me into the restaurant, where we took a seat in a booth.
A weathered-looking waitress in her yellow uniform approached our table and filled our coffee cups. Her eyes lingered on Yarder for a little too long, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy, but I understood why she was staring.
“What can I get you two?” she asked, finally tearing her gaze away from Yarder.
“Three-egg omelet with all the veggies and ham, two pieces of sourdough, three strips of bacon, and a side of sausage gravy,” Yarder confidently rattled off his order. “And a large apple juice.”
The waitress eagerly wrote down his order before turning to me. “And for you, honey?”
I hesitated, not wanting to order too much. “Uh, can I just get two sunny-side-up eggs and toast?” I asked tentatively.
Yarder raised an eyebrow at me. “That’s it?”
“Uh, well, yeah?” I replied, feeling a bit embarrassed by my simple order.
Yarder shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “Make it three eggs sunny-side-up, two pieces of sourdough, two sausage patties, and a large glass of orange juice,” he said, his voice filled with amusement.
The waitress nodded and scribbled down the order. “Coming right up. Give it ten minutes. Holler if you need anything,” she said before walking away.
“Do I look hungry to you?” I asked, leaning toward Yarder.
He nodded, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Yeah, you do. I’ve been watching you. You never eat a lot. I can tell you want more, but you never take it.”
“That’s not true,” I muttered defensively, though I knew he was right. I just wasn’t used to having so much food available to me, and I didn’t want to get used to it.
“It is, but we’re not going to talk about it. Just eat, Poppy,” Yarder said firmly, his gaze unwavering.
“I will,” I replied quietly, feeling a bit ashamed of my habits.
Yarder reached across the table and grabbed my hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “I don’t know exactly what your life was like on your own, Poppy, but I can tell you right now that you don’t need to make the choices you used to make anymore. Eat until you’re full, and don’t worry about anything else. Take seconds,” he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice.
I didn’t want to take advantage of Yarder or have him think I was using him. “You don’t need to pay for me,” I protested weakly. “Two eggs and toast are more than enough food for me.”
Yarder leveled his gaze on me, his expression serious. “No, it’s not.”
I wouldn’t have been able to afford the two eggs and toast, let alone what he had changed my order to. Never in a million years would I order that much food. “I’ll pay you back once I get back to work,” I insisted.
“You think I’m going to make you pay for your breakfast when I’m the one who asked you to come out with me?” he asked incredulously.
I really didn’t know what to think. For the past few days, I was clueless about what was going on and what to do.
Yarder took a sip of his coffee and shrugged. “We’ll figure that out when we get there. For now, I’ve got you, babe,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I added some creamer to my coffee and silently stirred it, feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over me. No one had ever had me before.
“Before I was in the MC, I lived on the streets. My parents both died when I was fifteen and instead of going into the system, I ran away. I know about the choices you have to make and how sometimes you don’t have two nickels to rub together. I’m sure all the money you’re making is going right into that dump of an apartment that they charge way too much for,” Yarder said, his eyes locking with mine. “Though that’s better than living on the streets.”
I had lived on the streets before, and from where I was to where I was now, I was living in a mansion. But I still knew it was a hellhole by normal standards.
“I’m not a charity case,” I whispered, feeling a lump form in my throat.
Yarder leaned back in his seat, his gaze softening. “I never once thought that, babe. You’re fucking strong. Ninety percent of the world couldn’t handle the life you live. I just know when I was where you are, I would have killed for someone to just look at me and not see some hopeless bum,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “I see you, Poppy. I see everything you are and everything you are going to be.”
I blinked back the tears, refusing to let them fall. Sobbing like a baby was the last thing I wanted to do, especially in front of Yarder. He was strong, smart, confident—damn near perfect. It was hard to imagine that he had ever been homeless, considering there wasn’t a thing about him that could clue anyone into that.
But there was a glimmer of hope knowing he had been down like me before, and now he was here. It made me feel less alone in my struggles, knowing that someone as capable as Yarder had faced similar hardships.
Setting my spoon on the saucer, I took a sip of my coffee, using the moment to compose myself. I didn’t want to dwell on the past anymore. Yarder understood where I was coming from, and that was good enough for me, at least for now.
“So, what kind of errands do you need to run?” I asked, eager to change the subject and focus on something else.
Yarder smiled softly, his eyes warm and reassuring. “You’ll see, babe.”
Yarder
“Pick one?”
I nodded and crouched down next to Poppy, eyeing the litter of German Shepherd puppies as they frolicked around the fenced backyard of the farmhouse.
“They’ll be ready to go home in two weeks,” the breeder said.
Poppy glanced at me, her eyes wide with excitement. “Just the two are available?”
The breeder, a middle-aged woman with a warm smile, nodded. “Yup, the other three are spoken for. The green and purple collars are still looking for their homes.”
“How are you supposed to pick one?” Poppy whined, her fingers gently brushing against the fur of the puppy with the purple collar as she cradled it in her arms. “She’s so cute, but then her brother is just as cute.”
“Well, one easy way to decide which one you are going to get is to decide whether you want a boy or a girl,” the breeder suggested.
Personally, I didn’t have a preference. I wanted a dog for the clubhouse—a guard dog and companion rolled into one. I needed a pup that could be ferocious to intruders but gentle with our members.
“I’m good either way,” I replied, scanning the playful bunch of puppies.
The one with the green collar caught my attention as it waddled over and stood on its hind legs. I reached out to pet it, feeling its soft fur beneath my fingers.
“Looks like the green one likes you, and the purple one likes her,” the breeder chuckled.
Poppy sat down, and the purple collar puppy immediately crawled into her lap, seeking affection.
“Yarder,” Poppy called out, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “How are you going to decide between these two?”
I scooped up the green-collar pup, feeling its weight against my chest as it gazed up at me with curious eyes. “Is it going to be you or your sister, bud?” I murmured to the puppy.
“Are you sure this is the best time to get a puppy?” Poppy asked, her gaze shifting from the dog in my arms to me. We both understood the unspoken concern—the responsibility of caring for a puppy while living at the clubhouse with all the chaos happening.
“I think it’s the best time to get a puppy,” I replied, meeting her eyes. “We’re all here together, and we can take turns looking after him.”
Poppy’s brow furrowed slightly. “I just can’t picture you doing midnight potty runs and soothing a crying puppy.”
“It’s a club dog,” I chuckled. “We’re all going to share the responsibility—midnight potty breaks and crying puppies.”
Poppy tilted her head, a hint of skepticism in her expression. “Puppies?”
I glanced between the two pups in our arms, considering her words. “We can’t split them up, can we?”
Chapter Eleven
Poppy
Olive handed me back my phone with a chuckle. “I still can’t believe it,” she laughed.
I couldn’t believe it either.
We had pulled up to the farmhouse and were swarmed by a litter of puppies which was shocking enough. But Yarder’s decision to get both of them had left me utterly baffled. “The purple collar is my favorite,” I sighed, reminiscing about the sweet and snuggly pup that had stolen my heart.
After Yarder made the decision to get both puppies, he headed inside to handle the paperwork while I stayed behind, surrounded by the playful puppies. It was a moment of pure bliss—a five-puppy pile-up that felt like heaven.
“What are we going to name them?” Sloane asked, breaking the silence.
“Mickey and Minnie,” Dove suggested.
Sloane wrinkled her nose. “I like Daisy and Donald better.”
“Let’s go with something German,” Rocky suggested, considering the breed of the puppies.
“Hans and Greta?” Sloane proposed.
“It’s Hansel and Gretel,” I corrected her.
Sloane tilted her head. “It is? How did I not know that?”
I shrugged, slipping my phone into my pocket. “It’s a common mistake.”
“I don’t like it,” Olive interjected, “so I don’t care if it’s Hans or Hansel.”
Rocky jumped in. “What about PB and J?”
Olive’s eyes lit up. “Oh, what about Salt and Pepper?”
“Pea and Nut,” Sloane rattled off.
I shook my head. “Tator and Tot.”
Dove raised her hand, signaling for silence. “Ham and Cheese,” she declared.
We all paused, then burst into laughter.
“Oh my god,” Olive chuckled.
“I think we’re all really hungry, and we shouldn’t try to name the puppies right now,” Dove suggested between laughs. “What we really need is someone to fire up the griddle and make some ham and cheese.”
“Not it!” everyone else shouted, leaving me as the designated cook.
“No fair,” I moaned. “I don’t know the whole ‘not it’ thing,” I grumbled.
Dove pointed towards the kitchen. “Too bad, so sad. Now get in there and make us some grilled cheese and ham so we can get back to naming these puppies.”
Aero walked in, planting a kiss on Sloane’s lips. “We’re having ham and cheese?”
Sloane beamed. “Yes, we are. You can thank the new puppies for making us hungry.”
“What?” Yarder’s voice interrupted as he entered the room, his gaze lingering on me. “The puppies aren’t even here yet.”
“We’re trying to name them,” Dove explained.
“That made you hungry?” Yarder questioned.
“It did when we started naming food combinations for their names,” I explained with a laugh.
Dove added, “You can blame Rocky for starting it by suggesting PB and J. You can blame me for suggesting Ham and Cheese, which led to Poppy making everyone grilled ham and cheese.”
“Does any of this make sense?” Aero asked, bewildered.
Cue Ball walked through the door. “If the girls are involved, nothing ever makes sense.”
“I don’t even know why you guys are naming the puppies,” Yarder grunted. “They’ve already got names.”
“Green and Purple?” I joked.
Yarder shook his head. “Harley and Davidson.”
A smile tugged at my lips.
Aero pointed at Yarder. “Hell yes.”
“Predictable, but I like it,” Sloane shrugged.
Cue Ball nodded enthusiastically. “Har! Dave!” he shouted.
“What the hell?” Olive laughed. “What are you doing?”
“You gotta yell it to see if you like it,” Cue Ball explained. “I think it’ll be good.”
“You’re insane,” Olive chuckled.
Cue Ball shrugged. “But I’m not wrong.”
“Fine,” Dove grumbled. “We can name the dogs Harley and Davidson, but that doesn’t get Poppy off the hook of making sandwiches for everyone.”
I stood up. “Well, you’re in luck because I know how to make a mean grilled cheese. How hard can it be to add a little ham to it?” The words spilled out before I could stop them.
Before coming to the clubhouse, I never would have even considered putting ham in my grilled cheese. But now, with Yarder and the rest of the gang, things were different. And maybe, just maybe, a grilled ham and cheese would become a new favorite.
“You’ve never had a grilled ham and cheese?” Dove asked, surprised.
“Oh, uh, well...” I hesitated. Even with my mom around, things had always been tight. Peanut butter and bread were staples; anything beyond that was a luxury.
“I’m a purist,” I blurted out defensively. “Why mess with something when it’s already good?”
“Well, I’m of the mind that if it’s good, and I can add something to make it even better, then I’m going to do it. Just slap some ham after the cheese, and you’ve got a grilled ham and cheese,” Sloane instructed.
I nodded, taking in her words.
Yarder followed me to the kitchen, his presence a comforting one.
“You good?” he asked quietly.
I grabbed the loaf of bread off the counter and opened it. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” I responded, grabbing the butter and a pack of ham from the fridge. “Did you want a ham and cheese?”
“Just cheese for me, babe,” he replied. “I’m with you in thinking if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
I closed my eyes briefly, a wave of emotions washing over me. “Please don’t patronize me. I know I just looked like a fool out there for never having a grilled ham and cheese.”
