Page 28 of Catching Sparks

He shifts, setting a soft, steady hand against my low back. I melt into that touch, every nerve alive beneath that touch.

“No, Poppy. I want you sober for what I have planned for you tonight. I’m just . . . enjoying myself with you first.” His chin drops, breath pulsing hot against my face as he adds, “Before I ravish you.”

11

GARRISON

I’m a fool. A lust-drunk, ridiculous fool.

I shouldn’t have allowed Poppy to drag me from the table, but I also shouldn’t have spat my mouth off on her behalf beforehand. There are things that you don’t do when you’re in my position, the first and most important being to not make irrational decisions. Whether that’s in a boardroom with a dozen eyes searching for your downfall or in a bar with a gorgeous woman and a raging desire to bend her over the closest available surface and fuck her until you both see stars.

Failure burns, but not once have I loved the pain as much as I do now.

“How long are you here for, Garry? I don’t think I’ve ever heard a return date,” Caleb asks, a cheese-loaded nacho chip on his fingers.

I relax back against the leather-cushioned bench, spreading my legs enough that my knee knocks Poppy’s from her spot beside me. An innocent move on my part. Mostly.

“Hopefully only two months.”

“And you’ll be working with Brody the whole time?” the dark-haired woman I’ve learned to be Bryce asks.

She appeared at the table a few minutes after Poppy and I did, a tray of assorted drinks in her hands. The one she slid in front of Poppy remains untouched a half hour later.

Brody removes his face from Anna’s hair long enough to answer. “We’ll see. As long as he keeps up the fantastic sweep job, I would be an idiot to turn ’im away.”

“You got him sweeping? What a hard-ass,” Caleb says.

I’m unsure what convincing everyone at the table had done in Poppy’s and my absence to have the man take Poppy’s chair at the end of the table, leaving the bench completely open. She didn’t question it as she slid right in and made herself at home. I followed suit and haven’t moved since.

Bryce leans into Anna’s side, both she and Brody using the woman as a human-sized cuddle pillow. She beams beneath the affection, clearly not bothered one bit by it.

“Poor baby,” Poppy coos.

I snap my eyes down to stare at her as she traces a finger along the back of my hand beneath the table. My breathing shallows when she hooks one around my pinky and flips my hand palm up. The smooth feel of her nails against my new calluses has goosebumps scattering up my arms.

It’s been months since someone has touched me this way of their own accord and years since I’ve allowed it.

“I’m not a hard-ass,” Brody grunts.

Anna sips on her drink and twists her head, batting her lashes at him. “In that shop, yes you are.”

His smirk has me diverting my attention to the table. Those two are . . . something. Something ooey and gooey in a way I wasn’t prepared to have to bear witness to every single day while in Cherry Peak. It’s not something I have to pay much attention to outside of this place other than when things take a turn for the worse. Luckily, Brody and Anna haven’t had many problems over the past year.

I may give him a hard time for preferring this town over Calgary or Nashville, but he hasn’t failed to hold up his side of our agreement thus far. He stays home as much as possible and continues to do what he’s contracted to do—make us both money.

Poppy continues tracing the length of my palm, her nails scratching over every curve and dip until I’m positive she’s attempting to memorize them. I’m beyond stiff in my slacks, the tease of having her so close, touching me like this, knowing what I hope will be coming soon, driving me mad.

“Sweeping is better than breaking out in hives, though, right, Garrison?” Johnny shouts from beside Caleb, the alcohol he’s drank tonight loosening his tongue more so than usual and cranking up the volume on his voice.

“Hives?” Poppy asks, halting her touching.

Brody laughs lowly. “Got ’em during his first day of work. Turns out he’s allergic to hay.”

“He looked sunburnt as all hell. Had to rush him to Eliza,” Johnny slurs with a howl.

Poppy abandons my hand, opting to grip my knee instead. “I’m sad I missed that.”

My throat tightens around a silent moan before I croak, “There wasn’t much to see.”

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