Page 36 of Poppy Kisses
Jensen nudged me with his knee under the table. We were mere inches from each other. “What’s your favorite Rattler’s special?”
“Ribeye. It’s the only place that can compete with Dad’s grilling.”
I ignored Elijah’s dubious expression. Clover was leaning over him, studying his menu.
“One of my top choices too.” Jensen searched my gaze as if to ask if I was okay. I peeked at my sister and her boyfriend, then rolled my eyes toward Jensen.
He smirked and covered it up a second later. “Go ahead and get a drink. I’ll drive.”
“You sure?” I asked. Auggie was at Jensen’s mom’s place, and I could be a driver.
“Completely,” he said. “Go ahead. They have some of Reservoir Barrel’s beer on tap.”
Well, when he put it that way. They had the same pale ale I drank with Jensen the other night. I didn’t drink away my problems, but between the mindfuck of Jensen offering to compliment me only for me to run off scared and then not being able to talk to Clover, I just wanted to relax a little.
Winding down at Jensen’s was getting harder. He was home, for one. I had to see those wide shoulders. I stared out the window way too much when he swaggered from the shop to the house.
I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the inevitable Hassie comparison. It had sat wrong with me as a kid. Funny at first and then more proof that I’d never live up to Rodeo Barbie. Life after that had only proved that I didn’t need Hassie to fall short, but this was like returning to the scene of the crime. I’d be holding my hands out and asking for my knuckles to be slapped.
Two years with Dillon had made me even more sensitive. My figurative knuckles were permanently bruised, and Jensen’s absurd level of hotness didn’t help. It’d only sting worse.
And now, I couldn’t tear my bestie away from her new man long enough to talk to her. I could turn to Lily and Violet, but they had lives. They had husbands and kids, and I just wanted to bend a friend’s ear with my drama. Besides, being so close in age, Clover knew Hassie. She’d commented so many times that Hassie was a know-it-all and not fun to play with.
When we ordered, Elijah had to ask the poor teenage server a zillion questions about the cut of meat, quality, freezer time. I had no idea there was so much to know about asparagus.
“He has allergies,” Clover whispered across the table when he’d started on the type of oil used for cooking.
I respected allergies, but Elijah was probably more allergic to not being the center of attention.
Jensen leaned back and stretched an arm around me. My heart skipped a beat and I stiffened.
“Linda, twelve o’clock,” he said under his breath.
Sure enough, Linda and Darren had entered and wandered into the bar section. Disappointment filled me. I’d gotten a thrill for nothing.
Clover saw how Jensen was sitting, then followed our gazes. “Oh my god. Good catch.” She rubbed Elijah’s leg. He had finally finished ordering. “Remember? I told you about the houses.”
She’d told him? Was she trying to claim her property? I didn’t want her to have to put up with Elijah for a whole year.
“Family, am I right?” he said, smirking.
Jensen let out a good-natured chuckle. “More like wills and trusts.”
Elijah shrugged him off. “I’d be screwed. My grandma keeps mixing up my name with Sully’s.”
“Van,” Clover said. “Doesn’t your brother like to be called Van?”
“Probably.” Elijah made awhaddya do?face. “Sullivan. Sully. If he leaves my parents’ basement, he can call himself whatever he wants.”
“Is it just the two of you?” Jensen asked like he was trying to move the conversation beyond insulting relatives.
The time between ordering and getting our food felt like an eternity. When the plates showed up, Jensen removed his arm, and I spied on my aunt and uncle. The movement caught Uncle Darren’s eye, and Jensen tossed him a wave. I did as well. Linda spotted us, and while her smile was faint, it was wide for her.
Tonight did double duty. I met one of my date obligations, and we looked like a real couple to my aunt and uncle. The drawback was that I missed the heat of Jensen sitting so close. Each time we had to pretend to be a couple, I liked it more.
* * *
“Insufferable,” I mocked after we returned home. The night was cool, and I wasn’t ready to go in yet. I aimed for the porch, and Jensen kept pace with me. “‘It’s not a hard word, my man.’”
