Mom huffs at the mention, knowing way too much on the subject.
“Is there any information in that computer who she may have hired?” I ignore Mom’s glare.
“I’ll dig deeper.”
“Or you could ask her when she dries out,” Mom suggests bitterly.
“It doesn’t matter who she hired. It matters what she planned to do with it,” Dad counters.
“She’s pissed Marco backed away from the chance at a Presidential run, but even more so that he’s giving up politics altogether. Marco turning his back on her, and Karen supporting his decision is betrayal.” Poppy concludes, “She thinks she has the upper hand.”
“It makes little sense.” Mom shakes her head in confusion.
“Tasha’s line of thinking rarely makes sense. But there’s no doubt she has a plan for all that information that will benefit her. She didn’t pay for it out of curiosity.”
“I’ll get answers, you have my word,” Grady guarantees her firmly.
“Who exactly are you, Grady? Political advisor, security guard, computer guru, Marco’s trusted confidant… where did you come from?”
He cracks a small smile, glancing at Marco again before answering. “How about we save that conversation for a time when we’re not in investigative mode?”
“No, seriously. My husband looks like he could tear this house apart with his bare hands. Marco’s barely holding it together. My in-laws are on the edge, watching me like I’m going to break. And my ex-boyfriend from forever ago resembles a man about to rip off his shirt and turn into the Hulk. Yet, you sit there cool as ice.”
I’d all but forgotten about Isaac, but at his chuckle, I eye him sharply. He throws his hands up. “Not my fault Poppy’s thinking about me ripping off my shirt.”
“You’re wearing out your welcome.”
“Don’t be jealous. Few can resist this physique.” He waves his hand down his body.
Mom cackles shamelessly. My glare only spurs her further.
“Isaac, not a good idea to provoke him when he’s like this,” Poppy warns, leaning in close. “He’s a little possessive.”
Isaac’s eyes soften and fill with open fondness. “Yeah, Poppy, I understand exactly why.”
“Maybe you can quit ogling her—” Poppy’s hand covers my mouth.
“Stop,” she whispers, “he’s on our side.”
I grunt, tilting my head to touch hers and bringing her hand to my chest. “You’re in my arms every night. That helps.”
Blush creeps up her neck and cheeks.
“Jesus, cut a man to the quick,” Isaac groans.
“Let's just say, this isn’t my first time in this position. I’ve been watching and waiting years for Tasha to make a move.” Grady changes the subject, answering Poppy’s question from earlier.
“You’ve been helping Marco?”
He tips his chin.
“This day keeps getting more bizarre. Karen’s a serial adulteress, Tasha has a history of drug use, and Marco’s spent years hiding my identity in the shadows to safeguard me. A stranger has been helping.”
“This is not how I predicted our visit,” Marco replies sheepishly.
“How’d she know you were here? Did Karen tell her?”
“Yes, Karen and Grady are the only people who knew of my true reason for coming.”
“It’s shitty she ratted you out,” Isaac scoffs.
“Despite my disappointment and anger with Natasha, she’s still my daughter. Karen’s been worried, and she knew I’d take care of Natasha if she is in trouble. Turns out, that’s exactly what’s happened.”
I search Poppy’s face for any sign of betrayal or distress. Instead, she’s filled with understanding. “What happens next?”
“Natasha is in a private facility under lockdown for the next twenty-four hours. They had to sedate her to stop the manic hysteria. Blood results should show us what is in her system. Karen flies in tomorrow. We wait for the doctor’s permission before we can see her.”
“It’s understandable why Karen’s coming. But it doesn’t change how we feel. She doesn’t get to use this as a bargaining chip to see Poppy.” The force behind my words gets the point across.
“She’s fully aware.”
Dad clears his throat. “Marco, we don’t know each other, but in a way, we’re family. I’m sorry about what’s happened. If you need anything, let me or Annie know.”
“Appreciate that, Edward.”
“Well, I’m gonna see if The Brasher has room for me tonight.” Isaac downs his whiskey and sets it on the table.
“You’re not going back to Atlanta?”
“I’ll save that drive for tomorrow. It’s been a hell of a day.”
Poppy elbows me softly, her unspoken question clear in her expression. “Maybe—”
“The answer is no,” I deadpan.
“Evin!”
“We are not inviting him to stay here.”
“Evin! Stop being rude!”
There’s a beat of silence before the room erupts.
“I don’t see what’s comical.” She turns a bright shade of pink.
“Poppy, I appreciate the sentiment, but Evin’s right. Only so much torture and regret a man can take,” Isaac tells her.
“Baby, think about it. Do you want to rub salt in his wound having him spend the night with your husband?”
“You men are ridiculous.” She rolls her eyes. “Fine, then at least stay for dinner. All of you stay for dinner.”
My enjoyment crashes. “Are you serious?”
“We don’t want to impose.” Marco’s response comes on the tail of mine.
“It’s not an imposition. I insist.” She slices her gaze, daring me to argue.
“Hope you have enough. We have company.”
There isn’t time for Mom to clarify before there’s a quick rap at the door and it opens, Cole entering with his hands full. Pierce is next, lugging the infant seat with a sleeping Bella and Dev in his other arm. Maya’s shoulders and hands are loaded with bags, while Darby waltzes in empty-handed.
“They won’t let me do anything! I’m rarely even allowed to lift my newborn.” She defends herself to the room half-full of strangers.
Poppy and my mom are on their feet, mom helping Maya, and Poppy taking Dev.
“There was no keeping her away,” Pierce explains, setting the seat down and scanning the room. “Fucking shit,” he utters, staring at Isaac.
“Marco, Grady, Isaac, this is Pierce and my sister, Darby.”
Grady and Isaac acknowledge them, but Marco is stone still. His eyes are locked on Poppy, who’s involved in an animated baby conversation with Dev. Darby steps over, placing a hand on his arm.
“Thank you for the beautiful flower arrangement.”
He flashes her a smile. “Congratulations, she’s beautiful.”
Darby’s eyes soften, and she looks at the sleeping infant. “We think so.”
“Poppy doesn’t need to worry about cooking! Darby brought enough for an army,” Mom calls from the kitchen.