Page 11 of Blurred Love

I shrug. “I work with computers.”

She knows there's more to it, but she doesn’t ask. “Do you love your job?”

I shrug. “I loved working in the field. I miss it. But yeah, this is my life now. I still get to do what I love. I’m just doing it in a different way.”

She nods and waves at her friend who’s walking back into the truck. It’s obvious she’s curious what’s going on. Hell, I wish I knew.

Poppy leans back, and I know she’s about to walk away. I put a hand out to stop her. I feel rushed, but I know if I don’t take my time and say things plainly, I’m just going to embarrass myself. “Who hurt you?”

She’s surprised I’m back at that. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“But you don’t have?—”

She cuts me off and leans over, squeezing my hand again. “I have to get back to work. What’s your favorite dessert?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Anything strawberry.”

She puts her hands on her hips. “Good to know. Thanks, Colter. And thanks for forgiving me.”

Before I can say anything, she’s walking away.

I had told myself I wasn’t going to look her up, but now I have to. I need to know everything there is to know about her. I refuse to go full-on hacker mode, but I am going to start with her social media and see what I can find out about her that way.

I grab the plate of treats and walk back toward my cabin. As soon as I get inside, I make my way to my office and start searching. I should have asked her last name to make this easier, but it only takes me a few clicks to find out that her name is Poppy Turner. When I open her Facebook page and scroll through her feed, my stomach starts to turn.

She has a boyfriend.

I don’t know why it bothers me so much. Yes, I think she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and yes, I would love to take her on a date or something, but I also know that it will never happen. She is so far out of my league, there’s not a chance in hell she’d go out with me.

So why am I so upset?

I keep looking through the feed and then click over to her Instagram. I’m looking at pictures and reading comments, and it’s when I see one that says “Nobody wants to see that” that I start to get somewhere.

I click on the profile and sit back. It’s the same man she was in all the pictures with. I start comparing dates, looking at things closer and notice that her feed in Facebook had been changed from “in a relationship” to “single.” Is this the guy that’s been bothering her?

I do some research on the guy. He’s a realtor for Whiskey Run Realty. I only have to look at a few of his posts to know he’s a conceited asshole.

I go back to Poppy’s profile and spend way longer looking through her pictures than I should. She’s an only child as far as I can tell. Her mom is not in the picture. Her dad is in a rock band and travels the country.

There’s picture after picture of her with desserts she’s baked. And when I come to her videos, I go down the rabbit hole of watching her in a small kitchen, smiling, baking, and then showing the final product. Happiness is shining on her face, and I think she’s right. Baking is what she should do. I may not have ever tasted anything she made, but I have no doubt that if it makes her that happy, then she’s going to be good at it.

I look through her pictures again and decide to focus on the ex-boyfriend. If he’s bothering her, it’s going to stop. I can at least do that for her.

CHAPTER7

POPPY

Iopen the window of the trailer, and the first person I see is Colter.

Surprised doesn’t begin to describe how I feel.

I felt a connection talking to him the other day, and I thought for sure that he felt it too.

I thought he would call me or at least text, but it’s been two days and nothing.

So what is he doing here?

I’m set up downtown, next to the courthouse. Did he come into town for a meeting or something? Just stopping by?

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