Page 88 of Catching Sparks

“I want to take Poppy somewhere. Preferably for a few days.”

“Oh, that’s great. Do you know where?” Eliza asks, spinning to rest her back against the counter, giving us her full attention now. “Or maybe don’t tell me. Poppy loves a good surprise. I just knew you wouldn’t allow her to go on that date today.”

“What date?” Wade asks, using the paper towel to wipe his fingers clean.

Eliza scoffs. “The one Bryce set her up on. I swear, sometimes you don’t listen at all when I’m speaking.”

“All your gossipin’ with those women has made you so damn sassy,” Wade says, humour bright in his eyes.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it. I know you well, Wade Steele.” She points a finger at him before twisting to grab my sandwich. After setting it on the table in front of me, she places a hand on my shoulder, looking down at me with the care of a woman who loves far too hard. “I approve your time off.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” Wade asks. “I might as well not even be here, then.”

She reaches out to stroke a finger down his jaw. “We both know who really runs this place. Don’t forget it, sugar.”

Wade lifts a hand to hold her wrist before bringing it to his mouth and kissing the back of her hand. “You’re a pain in my ass, woman.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

My lips tug into a slight smile at their display. Moments like these are exactly why I stopped fearing Wade and instead began to look up to him. He might be as hard as a fucking boulder on the outside, but all too similar to me, he has enough love inside of him to choke on.

Somehow, he’s managed to find the perfect mix when it comes to his wife. I want to learn how and do the same for Poppy.

“Thank you, Eliza. Wade, if you’re not alright with it—” I begin, but he cuts me off, clearing his throat.

“How many days do you want?”

“Five?”

His nod isn’t much more than a quick jerk of his chin. “Hurt that woman again and I’ll have you doin’ far worse than workin’ with hay.”

Eliza gasps. “I knew that was calamine lotion on your arms!” Taking a step back, she pinches the back of Wade’s neck. “You ass.”

“I thought you’d approved, considerin’ how much you love Poppy,” he replies.

She considers that answer for a moment. “Fine. But next time, don’t use hay as a punishment, or I’ll have you digging weeds from my garden.”

Wade grimaces. “Yeah. Alright.”

My stomach growls again, and I greedily grab the sandwich in front of me, tearing into it. I’m going to need all the help I can get to plan my next move today, and with the Steeles’ permission, I get to work.

31

POPPY

I hold in another sigh as my date continues to explain his last stint on a pipeline in Fort McMurray in explicit detail. I’ve already downed two glasses of red wine, even though I hate the taste, needing something to help dull the pain in my chest and the growing blaze of annoyance from the first few moments of this date.

When Kyle pulled up at the restaurant fifteen minutes late in a lifted truck with a welding rig in the back and a quote about boobs on the rear window, I should have turned around and driven back home.

The dirty jeans, steel-toe boots, ratty flannel, and flat-brimmed hat that would fly off with the slightest breeze had my fight-or-flight response shrieking. I’ve never minded jeans and boots on a date, but would it have killed him to make sure they had at least been washed in the last month?

“Holy fuck, I was laying the fattest dimes out there. The inspector said I was the deadliest he’d ever seen,” he boasts, puffing out his chest and sniffing for the millionth time since we sat down.

“Laying dimes?” I repeat, twirling my thumbs in my lap beneath the table.

Kyle rolls his eyes and gulps back the dregs of his second beer before explaining, “Welds, sweetheart. I am a welder.”

I blink slowly at him, fisting my hands. An angry flush crawls up my chest and throat at the condescending tone. “I see.”

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