Page 143 of Catching Sparks

I didn’t anticipate my parents coming with me to Calgary. While making plans that will ensure my change of home office goes as smoothly as possible, I worried about how hard it would be to leave them behind. Being away from my mother while I was in Cherry Peak was hard enough.

Yet I think the biggest surprise is my father. The man who I was so, so angry with for most of my life is sitting in front of me and telling me that he wants to retire. That for the first time in thirty years, he’s going to choose us—me—over his career. It’s the biggest and most meaningful promise he could have ever made.

These past few days have been so overwhelming but comforting at the same time. I’m excited for what’s coming next for me. For all of us as a family.

For my relationship with Poppy.

Fuck, I love that woman. Every snarky, gorgeous, sweet-as-honey inch of her. She’s a part of me now, and I was an idiot to believe there was ever a future for myself where she wasn’t at my side, as my person.

I reach for my phone constantly, her contact the only thing I consider pulling up. But I force myself not to call or text her every single time. She deserves to hear all of the answers at once, and I don’t have them all yet.

Once I do, I’ll be standing in front of her, and if she’ll have me, I’m vowing never to leave her like this again.

50

POPPY

I’ve always had dreams. Big fat ones that were so out of this world they were almost laughable. I loved that I was a dreamer, and so did my parents. They encouraged me to chase them every chance they could get. From the mud cakes I used to try and sell to the kids on the playground for fifty cents when I was six, the lemonade stands that I would spend weeks crafting a menu for at age eight, all the way to the seedling of an idea to open a body-inclusive pole studio in a close-minded town shortly after I turned twenty-three. It was only one of the many I wished to have one day, but I’ve never stopped dreaming of creating a franchise of my own built on something I feel so strongly about.

Hard work has never intimidated me. It has quite the opposite effect. It entices me, beckons me close with a curl of its finger.

My dreams have shifted over the last couple of years, though. They haven’t changed as much as they have simply grown, twisted into a craving for more. I still want more success, yes, but also more love. A relationship like the one I watched Anna and Brody find and nurture and a marriage like my parents have kept for two decades now.

I was lying to myself with Garrison. It was never going to be just sex. Not from the moment we met and he tested me in a way that spoke to the part of me that loves testing the limits. I wanted to work for his affection, and in the end, I hadn’t had to at all. Everything fell into place the way it was always supposed to.

My thoughts are a mess of knots that have become so tangled I can’t find which one to undo first. That’s why I’m here, brushing through Kip’s mane and coat after running from my house to the ranch. The sun has only just begun to rise, but it hadn’t stopped me. I needed to run. To feel the burn in my lungs and the strain in my muscles as my mind cleared. It’s been too long since I’ve slipped on my running shoes. I’ve missed it.

The rush I feel while running is the same I feel on a pole. It’s just me, the gulp of air into my lungs, and my will to keep going. I don’t do it to lose weight. I do it because I love it. There are far too many stereotypes out there about plus-size women and exercise. I hate every single one of them. There doesn’t have to be some number on the scale that we’re working toward every time we hit the gym or sign up for a workout class. You should be able to exercise for any reason out there and receive no judgment. Myself and every woman who attends a Beautifully Bold class is a prime example of that.

I love myself, my beautiful body included. It’s the only one I’ve got, and I’m proud of it every day.

I smile to myself, continuing to stroke the soft brush down Kip’s side. He’s the strongest horse on the ranch, with thick muscles and a height that has him towering over me. His presence soothes me the way I knew it would. It’s not hard to recognize why he and Garrison connected the way they did.

They’re both big beasts with the softest of hearts that they only show to a select few.

“Do you miss him as much as I do?” I ask him, petting his neck while brushing him.

I’m in his pen today so I can brush all of him, and the tidiness of the stall shows how well taken care of he is. How well all the horses on Steele Ranch are taken care of. The love and care they get here is unlike anything else.

Kip shifts closer to me as I move further up his body with the brush. He was far from dirty when I got here, but I wanted the connection with him today. I needed it. Similar to Honey, he loves a good brushing regardless of if he’s dirty or not.

“If you could suddenly learn how to talk, I’d appreciate it,” I tell him, running my palm down his silky black mane.

He doesn’t need to talk to answer me, though. I’ve heard all about how much he misses Garrison. Between him, Honey, and Sky, he’s never been the sassy one. But by the third day after Garrison left, he’d been the one giving attitude. Wade had to leave him in his pen the other day because he wouldn’t stop neighing and attempting to bring them to the fence line despite Wade’s orders.

I know he was trying to look for Garrison.

Glancing at the trough behind me, I find it mostly full still despite not being topped up since last night. My heart pangs.

“You have to eat. Starving yourself isn’t going to bring him back.”

Kip snorts, and I fight a smile and lose.

“I know. But if I have to eat, so do you.”

The stubborn thing can read the tone of my voice too damn well and turns his head to look at Honey in the stall over, giving me the silent treatment.

“Don’t you be sassy with me. Honey might not find it attractive, and then you’ll be single, just like me. Is that what you want?”

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