Page 19 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

“I’m not going to argue. I want to know so I don’t do it again,” he said.

“When we discussed my technique for steeping new blends to test the strength and make adjustments,” she said.

Her way of blending wasn’t bad... “I was offering another way to do it. Sorry if it came across as inconsiderate.”

“Thanks. It sounded like you were the expert even though I’ve been successfully doing this for seven years now. You worked in the tasting room for six weeks,” she pointed out.

“I’ll watch my tone and words next time.”

She shrugged. “It’s no biggie.”

“It’s a biggie. Poppy, don’t do that. I was showing off. Felt I could finally contribute something to the group that’s given me so much. But I shouldn’t have done it at your expense.”

The words were ripped from somewhere deep inside of him. That kind of behavior smacked of his father’s.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal. Everyone really appreciated your comments. I think I might be too sensitive where you’re concerned.”

Leaning back in the chair, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Given our history, that makes sense.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Should we try again? Start over? Would that make this easier?” he asked, gesturing to the both of them.

Chewing her lower lip, she fiddled with the breadcrumbs on the napkin, using the edges to move them around. “To what end?”

“Maybe I can stop apologizing for the past that I can’t change, and you could stop looking at me like I’m going to hurt you again.”

She put her shoulders back, tipping her head to the side to study him. With her hair straight, the angles of her face were sharper and her eyes more direct. She hadn’t put any makeup on to travel, so the dusting of freckles across her nose was visible. There was a freshness to this look that made him want to do whatever he could to protect her.

Except when had he ever done a good job of that?

She put her hand on his where it rested on the table. “It’s not you I’m worried about hurting me. It’s me expecting too much... Does that make any sense? Please stop blaming yourself. As you said, you apologized.”

Expecting too much.

The words lingered between them in his mind. “You can’t expect too much this time. I’m going to deliver what I’ve promised you. Whatever happens at breakfast on Saturday, I’m not walking away until you have a decent deal in place for your tea.”

“Thanks for that.”

Their flight came up on the board, and they both left the lounge. She wasn’t chatty as they waited to get on the plane, which suited him. There was a long day of travel ahead of him, and sitting next to Poppy would be torture. Her sweet vanilla-and-strawberry scent made him want to take a deep breath and close his eyes so he could relive every moment of their kiss the other night.

Not a good idea when they were flying commercial. Besides, she’d been clear about keeping things platonic. He’d do his best to live up to that, but it had been a long time since he’d struggled to keep his thoughts off of a woman like this.

The second flight, from JFK to London, was smooth. Alistair slept from Bangor to New York, giving her plenty of time to think. He’d drifted off again once they were in the air on this flight. She pulled out the journal that Sera had gifted her and started journaling. His aftershave gave her ideas for a new tea blend she wanted to try.

It was hard to be this close to him and not remember the good times.

As with any relationship, theirs hadn’t been all fighting and resentment. There had been laughter and lots of sex. Being this close to him, it took every ounce of willpower she had not to touch him. She could pretend to fall asleep, let her head fall onto his shoulder.

But she couldn’t sleep on a plane or with Alistair—that felt too intimate. Even after three glasses of champagne. Instead, she was under the provided blanket because she was chilly. The cabin crew had dimmed the lights and asked everyone to lower the window shades. The flight attendants had settled, having gone wherever they went during a flight. She was as alone as she could be on a crowded plane seated in premium economy.

Alistair yawned and stretched, turning his head to look at her. She had her headphones in and was listening to her favorite playlist on her phone. She paused it and took out one of the earpieces.

“You missed drinks. They said you could ring if you needed anything,” she said.

“I’m good with my water bottle,” he said.

There was a sleepiness to his face; he looked relaxed...soft. Ali like this was someone she just wanted to curl up next to. He scrubbed his hand over his face and then put his seat up a bit. “What have you been doing?”

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