Page 42 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

Was there a good way to answer?

“I want the power to stand up for myself. Not allow fear to make me take an offer that I know is less than I deserve. But I’m so afraid if I don’t take what I’m offered, everything I’ve built for myself will fall apart.”

How could he help her through this? “Do you want to break away from me?”

She chewed her lower lip and turned her head into the breeze, tipping her head back and not saying a word until she finally glanced over at him. “I think I have to.”

Well, that was the answer he’d expected. “Of course. How can I help?”

“You are,” she said, putting her hand on his. “Being here with me, talking about the past and letting me work through that girl I was...it’s giving me a sense of clarity I never would have found on my own.”

“I’m glad,” he said. But that tightness in his stomach was back. The power he’d felt on the walk up was so far away from him at this moment. He’d never felt more like the second son. The spare that no one needed once George married and took over the vice-chairmanship of Lancaster-Spencer.

Maybe Poppy wasn’t the only one who needed to break free. Hell, he was brokering a deal between her and his family so he could have his freedom. His chance to step out of the shadow that Lancaster-Spencer cast and become his own man.

Until he broke free of those chains that kept him in this holding pattern, he couldn’t be the man she needed or deserved.

“Oh, Ali,” she said.

“Oh, what?”

She just shook her head, tugging his arm, and he allowed her to pull him to her. She wrapped her arms around him, and that scent of summer flowers and vanilla filled his senses again.

He put his head on her shoulder as she ran her hands down his back, soothing him in a way he wasn’t sure he deserved.

Twelve

The almost-full moon was high above them. Poppy held his hand as they walked back to their Airbnb. Singing and dancing around him when they got back, she led him out into the back garden. She was charged with the energy of the moon in a way that was contagious. This woman. This Poppy. Nothing existed but this moment as she wrapped herself around him.

Her hands looped together at the small of his back as she swayed back and forth, singing under her breath, swaying in the moonlight.

Holding her always made him feel like things were going to work out.

Sure, they were divorced, but he still had a hard time thinking of her as anything but his. Even with the years they’d been apart, he hadn’t forgotten how she felt when she was this close. She smelled of the summer night and sun and magic. A heady scent that was foreign to him.

The warmth of her mouth on the side of his neck sent a shiver straight to his groin. His hands tightened on her hips as he gazed down into her eyes. Her lips were parted. He groaned.

How was he supposed to resist the temptation of Poppy?

“Pop, we said platonic,” he reminded her as he drew his finger along the top edge of her sarong. It was knotted on her left side, and the tiniest bit of bare skin peeked out where her T-shirt didn’t quite meet the top of it.

Her skin was so soft and smooth, addictive, like everything else about this woman. One kiss wouldn’t be enough, one touch, one fuck. She was fire. In his bloodstream, in his body, in his brain.

“We did...” she said as his hands settled on her waist, and hers around his neck. She leaned back so that they could really look at each other. “Would it be so bad if we changed our minds?”

His dick jumped and hardened as his mind raced to plan for all eventualities. He was still keeping things from her. She probably was doing the same. They were both trying so hard to make things right this time, fighting against anything that could mess up these new feelings and the connection that was slowly taking root and growing between them.

God, he didn’t want to let her go.

He wanted this for himself. Poppy, just for him, with no external pressures. Whatever happened with the company and his dad and George had no bearing on this moment.

“I can’t think of a single reason why we shouldn’t,” he said against her lips.

She rubbed his lower lip with her tongue and then sucked it into her mouth.

Any chance of a rational argument disappeared. There was just Poppy, him and the moon. Tonight, these were the only things that mattered, and he wasn’t going to let her slip away.

“Me either,” she whispered against him. “You’re not going to stop us like you did the other night, are you?”

---