Page 72 of Dr. Weston

“Please, Pop. Get whatever you want.” I pull her in for a hug, so happy with how my night has gone, I can barely get enough of her. “I’d build you a library if you wanted. A place you could go to whenever you wanted to escape for a while.”

“Okay, can I take it back?”

“What?” Is she going to get a few more?

“What I said earlier?”

My brows lift in confusion.

“Maybe I do need a lot of things.” She giggles as she points at the shelves behind her.

* * *

As we pull up to my home, I discover it’s late. Caught up in Poppy’s spell, I’ve totally lost track of time. She’s been thumbing through her new purchases, I assume deciding which she’ll dive into first.

I tell Porter to wait in the car and walk around to Poppy’s door.

She steps out and stares wide-eyed.

“You okay?”

“Um, yeah.” She stammers. “This is… I thought we…”

“Poppy?”

“Yes.”

“Stay with me?”

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

POPPY

Walking up the slate steps of his palatial home, Broadie holds my hand tightly as he guides me inside. I’m speechless. I expected his home would be something out of this world but seeing it in person is another thing entirely.

His home isn’t the four-story brick mansion I was picturing. Its design is more of a craftsman-style but on a mammoth scale. The home appears to be three stories, in a steel blue color with gray and black accents and wood trim. There’s an attached three-car garage plus what appears to be an unattached one of similar design perpendicular to it. The home sits on what looks like several acres of well-landscaped grounds.

As the door closes behind us, I try to take in the first floor. It’s quite open, with a study to the right, the main seating area located centrally, and a dining room on the left. Again, it’s impressive, but not in an ostentatious way. The furnishings are luxurious but not flamboyant.

“You okay?” he asks as he comes to stand behind me, cocooning me in his embrace.

Trying to think quickly on my feet so I don’t look like a simp, I reply, “Yeah, just surprised.”

“By what?”

“That you’d bring me here. All the hot, rich guys I read about don’t want women knowing where they live.”

“You think I’m hot?”

“That’s the part you zoned in on?”

“Poppy, I don’t bring women here. But you’re different. I want you to know where I live.” Broadie gives me a sweet kiss on the shell of my ear, rocking me back and forth. I’d love to know how I’m different, but I’m so overwhelmed right now I can’t even go there. “You want a quick tour?”

Heck, yes.

He slides off his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of a beautiful wing chair in the foyer before taking my hand. Broadie points at the study before leading me through the dining area. He actually has one of those Butler pantries that has a wet bar and counter space located between the kitchen and the dining room. The kitchen is bright and airy. It has a large marble island in the center surrounded by stainless steel appliances and cabinets, which are white on the top and a gray-blue color on the bottom. I love that the home appears to be tastefully decorated, not overly masculine.

All of a sudden, I feel Broadie’s finger push my chin up.

---