Page 114 of Catching Sparks

Mom: WHAT? You’re surprising me with this now?!?!? I’d give you hell if I wasn’t so damn excited!!! A girlfriend!! My boy!!

My chest warms at her reaction. I was expecting something along these lines, but confirming her excitement is exactly what I needed.

There’s only a small chance Poppy will be upset with me for not telling her about the change beforehand. If I know her the way I think I do, she’ll be more excited than anything else. And if not, then I’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

Typing out a message for my mom, I can’t seem to keep the goofy smile off my face.

Me: Try not to scare her off. I have a few more weeks with her and I don’t want to spend them trying to apologize on your behalf.

Mom: Don’t make me smack you upside the head. A few more weeks? We’ll be speaking about this when you get home.

Me: Have at it Mom. See you in three hours.

Mom: I love you.

Me: Love you too.

I don’t ask about my father. If he’s home, Poppy’s going to make it her mission to meet him. It’s only fair that she has the chance to do so. If I ask about him, Mom may try and get rid of him for the day, and if this is the only chance Poppy has at meeting him, I don’t want to take it from her.

Like they’ve been programmed to do so, my eyes are drawn to her again, and my breaths turn stuttered. Fuck, she’s beautiful. Her plump, pink lips are parted on soft breaths, long lashes fluttering as she dreams. The blanket slips down her shoulder, exposing a strip of skin from beneath the collar of her loose-fitting sweatshirt. Freckles have appeared across her cheeks and nose from the days in the sun, and they fit her perfectly.

My phone vibrates again, but it’s not a text this time. Nathan’s email address appears above the list of company updates I requested. It seems he was ready for my email this morning, probably having started collecting these updates over the past few days.

I should have been reaching out to my assistant for this information, but I’ve never loved having one of those. The only people I trust to take care of my affairs are myself and Nathan. Rachel is on the company payroll, but I hardly use her for more than fetching coffee and scheduling meetings. Some would be envious of how easy her job is these days.

Locking my phone, I ignore the email reply for now. It can wait until we get back to Cherry Peak. Right now, I’m content not knowing.

“Why are we at Pearson International?” Poppy asks once we’ve come to a stop on the airport tarmac.

She slept majority of the flight home, only having woken up a handful of minutes ago when we landed. Her messy hair and sleepy eyes are adorable, even as she narrows them on me suspiciously as I pull our luggage from the overhead bins.

“I was going to tell you before we got here, but I didn’t want to wake you up,” I start, pulling up the suitcase handles. “I thought you could meet my mom. Potentially my dad as well. We’d stay the night and get back to Cherry Peak early tomorrow morning so you can still head to work if you want to.”

I stare ahead out of one of the tiny windows, waiting for her reply. When it doesn’t come, my stomach shrivels up, regret sinking in. With a weighed exhale, I turn to apologize but stop short.

She’s grinning. Her hazel eyes sparkle as we stare at each other, no words said until she breaks the silence.

“You want me to meet your parents?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t exactly look my best right now.”

“You’re gorgeous.”

She tucks some hair behind her ear, rolling her eyes to play off my comment. “You’re obligated to say that.”

“I’d have to be blind not to think so. But you can take a few minutes to get ready before we step out if you want to.”

“I’ll be quick,” she replies instantly before grabbing her suitcase and rushing into the bedroom. The door shuts partially behind her but not completely.

An hour later, Harvey drives through the gate at my parents’ house and parks on the looped driveway. He gets out and unloads our luggage while I unbuckle my seat belt and reach across the gap in the back seat to squeeze Poppy’s thigh.

She’s a vision in a pair of light-wash jeans, tan sandals, and a flowy top. The auburn colour of her hair has begun to darken at the roots to a natural brunette. It’s in a fancy braid from the top of her head to just past her shoulders.

It would be oh-so easy to tug on while fucking her mouth, but that’s absolutely not what I should be thinking about moments before walking into my parents’ house.

“Ready?” I ask.

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