38. Teysha

38

TEYSHA

"Morning," Logan drawls, squinting. "You up already?"

"Coffee. Drink."

I prop myself onto the bed on my knees, holding two mugs with little wisps of steam curling out of them. Logan's grin is sleepy and crooked as it slants across his mouth. He pushes himself up into a sitting position against the headboard and carefully accepts my caffeinated offering.

At the first sip, he groans in satisfaction. "That's damn good. Since when did you learn to make my coffee how I like it?"

"Since you learned how I like mine," I retort, wrinkling my nose playfully.

He reaches out to squeeze the area where my shoulder and neck meet. "How'd you sleep?"

"It's about to be nine, and I just got up a few minutes ago."

"Compared to you getting up at the ass crack of dawn all those other mornings? Cooking and cleaning like a crazy woman. "

"Yet you ate every bite of breakfast I cooked," I mouth off.

His grin ticks wider. "'Cuz it was fucking delicious. And you really wanna be all sassy right now? I've got no problem picking up where we left off last night."

"My thighs are sore ."

"From squeezing my head so tight when I was dining on that sweet fucking pussy."

I give up trying to resist his rough charm and burst into another giggle. My thighs are sore—and I'm already craving him all over again.

"What are you up to today?" I ask moments later, once we've sipped more coffee and finally crawled out of bed.

Logan wanders into the bathroom to pee and I'm surprised by how… normal it feels. The two of us sharing a space like this. We're halves of each other, comfortable and content in our cozy, intimate space no one else is allowed into. He joins me at the sink as I start the faucet and reach for my toothbrush and the toothpaste.

"Tying up some loose ends around the club," he answers, holding out his toothbrush.

I get the hint and squeeze some toothpaste onto his too. "The wedding's almost here."

"That too. Making sure it's all good."

"I'm glad you're able to be his best man."

"Me and Cash."

I smile. "I'm looking forward to seeing you in a tux… or whatever bikers wear to weddings."

"And I'm looking forward to ripping your bridesmaid dress off you after it's all over." Logan rinses his mouth out with water, then grabs me by the hip 'til I'm pressed into his side. "I bet you're going to look so damn gorgeous in it. Most beautiful woman there. "

"You're biased."

"So what if I am?"

I shriek as I tilt my head back and he buries his face into my neck. His kisses from last night still burn all over my skin. He only fuels the heat as his lips skim the length of my throat and he palms my backside, squeezing me in his hands.

It's a new and overwhelming experience—a man being unable to keep his hands off me.

He can't seem to fathom going more than a few minutes without touching me in some way. Kissing me. Nuzzling me. Inhaling my scent.

He's literally addicted to me.

And I can't say I feel much differently than him.

There's a reason I've never felt happier and more at ease than when he's around. His arms wrapped tightly around me.

We're slow to finish getting ready for the day. We take Logan's pickup truck to the Steel Saloon where we part ways. He goes off with Mason and some of the other guys to handle club business in the back office while I join Sydney, Korine, and Mick at the bar counter.

We have an appointment today at the local bridal boutique to finalize the fit of our dresses.

But it seems to be the last thing on Sydney's mind at the moment—she practically has a vein about to burst in her temple while the others watch on, amused.

"What's going on? Are we ready to head out to this dress fitting?"

"Sydney tried her hand at baking peanut butter cookies," Mick answers. "As you can imagine, it didn't go well."

"I followed the instructions down to the letter! "

Korine giggles. "I told you I'd help. But nooo… you said you had it."

"I thought I did! How hard can baking cookies be?"

"Apparently very hard. These things are like rocks." Mick flicks one of the lumpy cookies, making it clang against the baking pan they're resting on. The others laugh even more while I half smile, half frown.

"Wait, why were you baking cookies?"

"She was trying to surprise Mace," Korine answers. "It's their last night together before the wedding and she wants to prove she can do wifey-type things."

"I said it would be a good idea if I learn to cook and bake. You know, for when we have kids."

Mick's thick white brows jump high on his forehead. "Oh, so you two are already planning kids, are you? Guess we know what you'll be up to on the honeymoon!"

My hand instinctually falls to my stomach as I'm reminded I still haven't shared with some of the others that I'm expecting.

Considering Sydney's crisis about her charcoal peanut butter cookies, now isn't a good time.

But something else comes to mind as I glance at the platter of burnt cookies.

Over the past few months Logan and I have experienced some of the darkest things two people can go through together. Though we've survived and come out the other side united and in love, some evils still haven't been vanquished.

Some evils are still alive and breathing.

I'm never one to interfere with God's plan… but what if I helped it along?

What if I've thought of another use for these cookies?

Someone starving might appreciate them …

"These have real peanuts in them?"

"Sure do. They're Mace's favorite. Why?"

"How about I go throw them out back?"

"Oh," Sydney says, shrugging. "Sure. They're not really edible anyway. Only a desperate person would eat them."

A small smirk comes to my face as I collect the baking tray and head for the back of the saloon. For the first few footsteps, I pretend I'm on my way to the trashcans outside. Once I'm sure Sydney, Korine, and Mick haven't followed, I change course for the basement.

Mandy looks up at the sound of my footsteps descending the staircase. She's withered away even more than the last time I saw her, cheeks sunken in and her eyes ringed black and blue.

"It's you," she spits. "What do you want? Come to gloat about the evils you've committed? Murdering our precious, kind, valiant leader?"

For the first time since I've met her, there's sorrow entrenched in her tone. She sniffles as her nostrils gleam from snot.

She's been crying.

I hold up the tray of cookies. "I came to feed you. They're a bit burnt, but still edible."

"Why?"

"Because it's the charitable thing to do," I answer sweetly, walking the tray over. "The guys have been hard on you. But you were just a woman trying to be loyal to the man you love. I understand how you feel. I'm loyal to the man I love too."

"You think I give a damn about what you think? Shut up and gimme what you brought me then get the hell out of here! "

"That's not very godly of you. What would the Lord think?"

Her hollowed-out eyes shrink to slits as she flashes her scummy teeth. "What use is the Lord if he took my beloved?"

"Everything happens for a reason. Luckily for you, I'm in a charitable mood. Would you like some almond cookies?"

Mandy clings to her suspicions, keeping me under her narrow-eyed glare. Then her stomach gurgles and she seems to realize she doesn't have very many options for nourishment.

"Yes," she grumbles.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, what what?"

"Yes, please?" I say. "Some manners go a long way."

"Oh, for fucking Christ's sake."

"Don't you ever speak the Lord's name in vain."

My sweetness slips for a quick second before it returns with a smile so warm it's the opposite. It's cold and menacing as I step forward and pick up a cookie off the baking tray.

"Open," I order.

Begrudgingly, she obeys. She parts her chapped, blistered lips expecting to be fed.

I shove the cookie into her mouth whole, hardly giving her time to adjust and bite into the treat. She sputters trying to break it down into tolerable pieces. Cookie crumbs spew from her lips as her cheeks swell and her throat works to swallow.

It manages to go down with another choking cough from her .

I set the tray down, standing back in wait. The flavor will hit her palate soon enough.

Her ringed-out, slit-like eyes double in size when it does. She retches like a cat attempting to cough up a hairball and wheezes out, "This isn't…? You didn't…? You fed me peanut butter ?!"

"Is it peanut butter?"

"Yes," she croaks. "Peanut butter… peanuts… I'm deathly allergic!"

"Are you? Whoops." I fold my arms behind my back and shrug my shoulders innocently, still smiling. "I could've sworn those were almond butter. Oh well, I better get going."

"No… come… come back! PUH… PUH-LEASE!"

She's gagging by the time I reach the bottom stair. Her face has reddened and her eyes bulge in their sockets, her mouth wide and agape. She huffs out air as if trying to regain her breath, but it's too late. Her lungs are closing up.

For the briefest moment, I almost feel terrible for her. I almost rush over to help and call 911.

Then I remember every foul, evil thing she's ever done to me— and Logan —and my smile returns.

"God doesn't like ugly, Mandy," I say. "It's a shame you've had to learn the hard way. Goodbye."

The last noise I hear before slamming shut the basement door is her choking gasps. Dusting my hands off with an air of satisfaction, I return to the barroom floor.

The others notice my return at once.

"There she is!" Korine exclaims.

"Took you long enough," says Sydney. "You sure you and Logan didn't go out back for a quickie?"

I laugh. "Nope. Just threw out the cookies like I said. Are we making this dress fitting or what?"

"Oh, Sydney," Korine says with a surprised gasp. "You look amazing!"

"You think? It's not too much?"

I shake my head and step forward to fuss with the hem of her airy chiffon gown. "Not at all. You make for a beautiful bride."

"Are you two trying to make me cry?" Sydney gently fans at her eyes to stave off the emotion building up. "How the hell am I going to make it down the aisle without tearing up?"

Korine closes in on her left to fuss at her in the same way I am. Whereas I'm straightening the skirt portion of her summery wedding dress, Korine's brushing Sydney's side bang out of the way to make her hair look even more perfect.

We eventually move out of the way so she can get a look at herself in the boutique mirror.

"Damn it!" she murmurs, more emotion rising up. She promptly turns away, releasing a laugh that's watery but happy. "I am crying. This is all your fault. Don't tell Mace. He'll tease the fuck out of me."

"In the vault," Korine promises.

"Change of subject," Sydney says. "Let's talk about how both of you are slaying in your dresses."

"You have a point," I say, popping a hand to my hip to pose in the mirror. "The three of us are elevens out of ten. Our guys don't know how lucky they are."

My words are spoken in jest, but the other two give vigorous nods and laughs anyway.

It's true though—we all look wonderful. Sydney in her delicate wedding dress made of lace and chiffon that's perfect for a breezy wedding out in the meadows in a Texas summer. Korine and I wear the sage green gowns that have been picked out for us. The silhouette is decidedly feminine and flattering, showing off our shoulders, cinched waists, and complementing our different complexions.

I'm drifting off in excited thoughts about what Logan will think when he sees me in it when my phone rings from inside my purse.

"I'll be a few minutes."

Sydney and Korine carry on fussing with each other's dresses as I step outside and answer the call. I'm not sure what to expect as I say, "Hello, Mama."

Knowing Mama, it could be anything.

A lecture telling me how sinful I'm living married to a biker. A plea begging me to come home with family who loves me. Scripture she'll quote that's both a plea and a lecture rolled into one. The options are limitless when Mama normally makes it her business to treat me like an unruly child.

"Your father told me the news. You're not coming home."

I wait a second, deciding on a tone. I go with calm and casual. "It wasn't a decision I made lightly. But it's what I believe is right for me."

"You said you wanted to come home. Your father was going to pick you up from the bus station. Grandma Renae made your favorite—brisket and baked mac and cheese. I prepped your bedroom."

Bits of guilt niggle away at me. I let out a tiny sigh. "Mama, can't you try to understand? I'm a grown woman now. A married woman now."

"Married?" she scoffs. "You mean to that… that biker man? The one with all the tattoos who's got a record—and do n't tell me he doesn't, because I had the local sheriff look him up in the system. He was arrested twice when he was younger. Once for disorderly conduct in public and another for an illegal firearm possession. That's who you're married to?!"

"Look, I get Logan isn't the kind of guy you envisioned me with. But he's a good man, Mama. I swear he is. Don't you trust my judgment?"

"Before this nightmare of a situation, I would've said yes. Because I knew my daughter had more common sense than this," she says. "It seems I was wrong."

"Ever think you're the problem?" I snap, out of patience.

"Teysha Patrice Baxter?—"

"It's Cutler," I interject sharply. "Mrs. Cutler. Mama, I love you. I love all of you. You have no idea how much I missed you when I was held captive—how many nights I sobbed myself to sleep just wishing I could see you all one more time. But I've got to move on. I've got to start my own life, and I want to do that with Logan. We really love each other."

"You were forced to marry him!"

"So what?" My voice pitches higher from the rush of emotion. My skin's heated up and I've started pacing up and down the sidewalk outside the bridal shop. "Yes, we had an ugly beginning. One of the ugliest beginnings a relationship can have. But through those dark and terrible times, we came to care for each other. We grew together and found a love that's beautiful. That makes me so happy. Don't you want that for me? Don't you want me happy?"

I'm practically on the verge of tears by the time I'm done. My pulse pounds in my veins, like I'm engaged in a high pressure situation .

And I suppose I am.

Telling Mama my final decision is basically cutting the cord. It's setting the tone for my future no matter what she says.

She's quiet for seconds to come. Once or twice I catch a sniffle on the other end. She's sobbing.

"Mama," I say softly, "I'm not trying to hurt you. But this is what's best."

"I just… I worry about you. After everything you've been through…"

"And I appreciate that you care. Believe me, I do. Thank you for always being there."

"Tey Tey, please… take care of yourself. I've only ever wanted what's best for you."

"I know, Mama. But just… trust me. You'll see in time. Maybe we can come for a visit sometime. Maybe you'll come to love Logan like a son. He's your family now too. He's lost his mother. Maybe someday you can be that for him."

Mama still sounds unsure once we're hanging up, but I'm at peace with our conversation. It's as good as it gets for the moment. My hope is that she'll eventually come around.

But what matters most is that I'm doing what's best for me.

I'm beginning a new life with a man that's earned my heart.

Feeling lighter, like a burden's been lifted off my shoulders, I head back inside the boutique.

We have a wedding to finish prepping for.