Page 41 of Smooth Talk

Chapter 16

Poppy

I’m stringing streamers in light pink, green, blue, purple and white across one side of the pavilion. It’s the last thing I have to do, the food, drinks and games are all set up. There are pastel colored juice boxes, macarons, Twizzlers, Skittles, M&M’s, fruit, chips and chicken nuggets. (Well, the nuggets aren’t exactly pastel, but it’s just not a kid’s party without them.) I’ve even got a pin the horn on the unicorn game and a unicorn piñata. There’s glitter everywhere; it looks like an official fairy farting faction rolled through. Perfect.

My mom was helping decorate, but I sent her on a run into town. My cousin Maggie, who owns the local bakery, Sugar Magnolia’s, made a unicorn cake. Harp’s going to love it. Harper is downtown too, with Emma and Ruby at Fro-Yolo, chowing down on frozen treats. Meanwhile, I’m up to my elbows in glitter, dreaming about double fudge brownie death by chocolate. It’s my favorite flavor, and I’d do just about anything to have a heaping spoonful jammed into my mouth right now. It’s sweltering and my shirt has reached second-skin status. I brought a cute sundress to change into before the party. Whew! I knew it would be warm, but I decided an outdoor birthday party in eighty-five-degree weather (with this humidity) was a great idea. I just had to rent a dang pony.

The horse guy is super nice; he has a sparkly rainbow saddle sitting on the white pony’s back. He’s braided her mane with rainbow ribbons and tied a golden horn to her head somehow. I’m sure, very humanely. I can’t believe I pulled this off; Harp’s going to flip when she realizes she’s getting a unicorn ride! This. Party. Is. Epic! I may be a little too excited. That’s okay though; Harp’s worth every bit of time and effort that went into today, and her enthusiasm will overshadow everyone else’s. I’m glad they could make it. Well, everyone except The Langfords (Reed’s parents send cards at her birthday and Christmas, they haven’t actually talked to or seen Harp in three years. I hate the way they are, but Harp’s really not missing out on much, they’re stiff and awkward around most people) and my father. He’s not happy about missing her big day, and she’ll miss him, but at least Harp’s surrounded by lots of people who love her.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this year,” My mom says handing me the cake box. I carefully take out the beautiful cake and place it on the stand. Mag’s so stinking talented. This unicorn cake is magical and almost too pretty to eat.

“Would you mind getting a couple pics of everything while I change. It’s almost noon and people should be here soon.”

“Harper is just going to love this,” My mom gushes as she snaps away. I run to the restrooms and quickly peel off my sweaty clothes before stuffing them into my bag, checking my reflection. I’d gone for a minimal look today. Until they make actual sweat-proof makeup, there’s no point getting all dolled up just to hang out in the southern summer sun. My foundation’s melted off and my freckles are making a prominent appearance. Thankfully, my mascara is still intact; I add another swipe of lip gloss. I have no one to impress, so I guess it doesn’t matter that my hair has started to curl from the humidity. A French braid is in order; it’ll keep my hair from frizzing out and off my neck. I escape the stagnant air of the restroom, and almost run smack into three giggling girls.

“Happy birthday Harper June!” I reach down and snuggle my daughter’s neck. The soft peachy scent from her shampoo fills my nose.

“Fank you, mama! Oh my gosh, I love it. Dids you see da unicorn?” She’s squealing with excitement.

“Yes, and if you want, later, you can ride her.” I didn’t think she could get more excited. I was wrong. She might faint. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my daughter speechless. It’s pretty amazing. She runs up to my mom under the pavilion, who was busy capturing our moment on camera, and gives her a hug. Then she gets busy checking everything out. I loop my elbows in Emma and Ruby’s and walk with them toward the shade.

“That girl has so much energy,” Ruby comments, rubbing her tummy. “After the froyo she put away, I thought she’d be in a sugar coma. Hell, I might be well on my way to one.” I laugh with her, knowing how easy it is to overdo it.

“I do not envy the energy it takes to keep up with her on the daily,” Emma adds. I pull them both closer, thankful that they’re here. Our original quartet is short just one person today. My cousin HK, Hannah Kate. I miss her terribly. We were all so close growing up, it’s hard to believe I only see her a few times a year now. She couldn’t make the trip (emergency surgery this morning), but she sent Harp a card and riding boots that will pair perfectly with my gift.

“It won’t be too bad today. She’ll have some cake and cookies and some more sugar. Run around with her friends, play games, ride a unicorn and then she’ll crash. With any luck, she’ll have consumed enough calories that they’ll allow her to sleep through the night.”

“Pipe. Dreams,” Ruby huffs. We all break into a fit of laughter. Fingers crossed my mom offers to host a slumber party tonight. Mandy, Harp’s nanny, is off today, she works weekdays and the occasional Friday night. She’s on summer break from college, an education major. Harper just adores her, and vice versa.

“Hey Bug,” I say as we get to the edge of the pavilion; “your friends are starting to show up. Why don’t you go say hey? Y’all can play for a minute, then we’ll eat.”

“Okay Mama,” she races down the short hill toward a small group of children. “Polly!” She practically tackles her, which escalates into a 7-kid huddle hug of the birthday girl. I smile. Harper is so resilient, so positive, so loved. I look at my friends and family that are here today to celebrate. I am bursting with emotion. Thankful for these women in my life. I pray that Harp has a similar support system when she’s grown. I’m lost in thought for a second when I look over from the snack table to my mother. Something has captivated her attention.

“Oh, my. Is he for Harper or the adults? You really have outdone yourself this year, darling.” She’s fanning herself, it is hot out here, but I still have no idea what she’s rambling on about. Maybe one of Harp’s friends has a hot dad? I can’t see from where I’m standing. “That man is delectable; I wouldn’t mind seeing his ponydance, or in this case, unicorn.” My mother’s ridiculousness has me picturing Channing Tatum riding my daughter’s birthday unicorn seductively, which, in turn, has laughter bubbling from my lips.

“Like I’d hire a stripper for my daughter’s par…” the rest of what I’m saying is cut off with a gasp when I step to the side and see Grayson Maxwell, in all his glory, kneeling in front of Harper giving her a hug. He whispers something in her ear, and she giggles. I feel you sister. I bet he gets that reaction from every woman, young or old. He stands holding a pink envelope in one hand and a leashed Gunner in the other, looking over the crowd of people around him until his eyes land on me. He came. Everything else fades away. I’m aware that people are talking around me, but I can no longer hear them. I can only hear my shallow breaths and pounding heart.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him in weeks. And he looks good. I am laser focused on his toned, tanned legs covered with just the right amount of dark hair. I can’t believe I’m coming apart at the sight of him in a pair of navy chinos. But dang, he even has nice thighs. I allow my eyes to rake over him. Casual loafers and a short sleeved white linen button-up complete the look. He looks like he just stepped off the set of a Ralph Lauren shoot. His dark hair even looks naturally tussled from a day of sailing. I want to run my fingers through it. Pull him to me. Breathe him in, see if he smells like the sea.

Smells like the sea? Wow, I’m ridiculous. He’s getting closer. I need my A-game. I paint on a bright smile. “You made it.” I say as I reach down to scratch Gunner’s ears. He rewards me by licking my hand. Gunner not Grayson. That’d be a little weird, but maybe nice. I bet he has a talented tongue. And there go my panties.

“I thought I’d pop in, say hello to the birthday girl. See if you had any plans for the weekend.” I can literally feel the heat of my mom’s gaze as she tries to answer for me. I need to unglue my lips before she auctions off my ovaries to him. Okay, that’s a bit of a stretch, but still in the realm of possibilities. I wouldn’t put anything past that woman.

“That’s very sweet of you Grayson.” My mom bumps me from behind. “Oh, sorry. Mom, this is Grayson Maxwell. Grayson, this is my mother, Ava Monroe. And these are two of my very best friends, Ruby and Emma.”

He shakes their hands, clearly having the same effect on them that he had on me when we first met. They. Are. Mute. “Pleasure ladies.” He smiles broadly before turning to me, “I can’t stay long, I have a meeting downtown in thirty.”

“Working on a Saturday? Interesting turn of events for you,” I smile up at him. I can’t seem to stop myself. I am happy to see him. And that dimple of his does weird things to me. Makes me giggle when nothing’s funny kind of things.

“Not work, just some banking stuff. The manager’s apparently been extremely busy and it’s the only time he had available. But I couldn’t let Harp down. I told her we’d be here, and I’m a man that keeps his promises.” Yummy.

His eyes are twinkling with mischief, like he can tell how hard it is for me to focus on anything besides my need to press my body against his. I haven’t seen him in weeks, and I want him. I may have embraced this dry spell too long; it’s making me have crazy impulses. Like making out with my friend in front of my besties, mom and all seventeen of my daughter’s classmates.

“I thought maybe she could open my gift early, before I left, so I can see her face when she reads the card.”

“Sure, that’d be okay.” My voice has a breathless quality to it. I know everyone can hear, but there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. I swallow hard and clear my throat.

“Great, I’ll just go give it to her now. Call you later?” He leans down and kisses my cheek, and I nod at him before he’s off. Walking toward my daughter, with a card in his hand and a spring in his step. He doesn’t smell like water; he smells like woods. Rugged, manly, sexy woods. And I suddenly have the urge to go tree climbing. Again.

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