Page 101 of Deal Breaker
She nods like that’s the only acceptable number, then looks at Ford, her eyes narrowing in thought. “You should come too,” she announces.
Ford’s eyebrows lift, just slightly. “To try the famous grilled cheese?”
Poppy shrugs. “It’s really good.”
Ford looks at me. Not pushing, just waiting. His expression is tentative. Hopeful.
I nod. “You’re welcome to join us. If you’re not busy…”
“I’m not busy,” he says softly.
Poppy’s already skipping toward the exit, blissfully unaware of the magnitude of this moment. Ford and I fall in step behind her, close but not touching.
“Are you sure, Lan?” he asks suddenly, and I can hear the raw vulnerability in his voice.
“I’m sure.”
We follow her out of the library and into the golden afternoon with something hopeful growing between us. I don’t know what comes next but today feels like a shift. A beginning.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Ford
Poppy is standing on her step stool at the kitchen counter, carefully placing slices of cheese on buttered bread with surgical precision. When she’s satisfied that she has each one just right, she carefully passes the plate of sandwiches to her mom at the stove.
“These look great, Poppyseed,” Landyn coos as a sandwich sizzles in the hot frying pan and the smell of toasted bread fills the room.
I can’t stop watching them both.
Landyn moves around the kitchen barefoot, her hair in a messy knot, a spatula in one hand. She laughs at something Poppy just said, the sound warm and soft and so damn easy. She flips the sandwich in the pan, then reaches over to gently tug a curl that’s fallen out of Poppy’s braid.
It’s all so natural, so effortless. It looks like the two of them have done this together a hundred times—they probably have. I don’t have many memories of moments like this from my own childhood, but I get the sense that Poppy’s little life has been filled with them.
And Landyn—she’s glowing. My eyes stay glued to her, to the way her T-shirt reveals a sliver of smooth skin just above her jeans, the way she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. They’re just small things, they should be nothing at all. But it hits me dead center.
She glances up, catches me watching, and grins. It’s a slow, wicked curve of her lips that settles deep in my chest and spreads.
And yeah. It’s a lot.
I lean back against the counter, suddenly too warm and too aware of everything about her—the way she moves, the way she laughs, the way that stupid grilled cheese is getting more of her attention than I am. Then she bites her bottom lip, eyes still on mine, and it feels like she’s taken me by the collar, pulled me in close, and whispered,watch closely, Ford.
I am. God help me, I am.I haven’t forgotten what Landyn took from me, but I also haven’t forgotten everything we’ve been to each other. And underneath the hurt and the anger, there is a part of me that can’t stop imagining everything we still could be.
The lighting in her kitchen is warm, golden. It glows off her skin, catching in the curve of her neck, the sweep of her jaw. I don’t think she knows how beautiful she looks right now—how impossible it is to look away.
She leans closer to Poppy, who has moved her step stool close to the stove and is taking her turn flipping the sandwiches. Landyn offers guidance in a gentle, steady voice. “Now press it down, just a little. Hear that sizzle? That’s the good stuff.”
Poppy grins, proud of herself, and Landyn smiles back at her. I can tell that she’s memorizing every inch of this moment, every single detail like she’s locking it into place.
Then she looks at me and something in her eyes hits mesquare in the chest. She takes a deep breath then shakes her head just once, like she’s brushing off whatever just passed between us. But it lingers. Heavy. Electric.
I tighten my grip on the edge of the counter, jaw clenched, pulse doing stupid things.
Jesus, I’m so in love with her it physically hurts.
I loved Landyn when we were together all those years ago. I’ve probably loved her ever since then. But this is something deeper. Now she’s a mother to my daughter. Our daughter.
“You’re supervising, right?” she says, glancing down at Poppy.
