Page 41 of Poppy Kisses
She leaned in, but I got up so she could have the chair. She didn’t sit but tapped a few keys. I steadfastly kept my gaze on the screen. I couldn’t make her uncomfortable.
“There. That should do it.” She swiveled the computer back to me.
“Hold on,” I said before she could scurry off. “I have one more to respond to.”
I pulled up the email asking for the estimate and banged out a reply. Then I kicked the chair out of the way so she could proof it.
Her mouth twisted when she concentrated, but she nodded and leaned back. “Looks good.”
Pride ran through me, and I hit “send.” The feeling diminished as soon as she turned to leave. “I’m sorry.”
She folded her arms, almost like she was hugging herself. “It’s fine. We were kids.”
“That’s no excuse.” I scratched the back of my neck. “I’ve been thinking about why I did that, and again, not an excuse, but maybe I was trying to convince myself I was more deserving if I put her above everything, including others’ feelings.”
Her features were still neutral. “I get it.”
“Maybe I thought you were a threat to how I felt. Like if I let myself admire your freckles or your legs, then I must not be genuine and it’d be a betrayal. My dad was so into my mom. She used to joke that he had eyes only for her, and I wanted to be like Dad.” I hadn’t thought about how much losing Dad affected me when it came to relationships until now. When I had married Hassie, I had hoped he’d be proud of me. He wouldn’t have been proud of how I’d made Poppy feel, and I wasn’t either.
“I understand, Jensen.” Her tone was softer but still distant.
I moved a little closer. Only a few inches. “I really am sorry. You were a spectacular fucking kid and you’re an even more amazing woman. You won’t ever catch me making a comparison like that again.”
She laughed. “Okay. Sure.”
“I like you.”
Her smile died. “Like I said last night, we shouldn’t. We’ve got to keep clear boundaries.”
“I agree.” I didn’t want to, but she was right. Our families were in on this, and we couldn’t let each other down and, in turn, them. “For once, it’s nice to know my role in a relationship.”
Curiosity filled her face and her attention was fully on me. Just how I liked it. “How do you mean?”
“Me and Hassie…it wasn’t a fair union. She had all the power, and I was eager to please. But that life, the one she wanted, wasn’t for me. I like horses as much as the next ranch kid, but I also wanted balance. I wanted balance in my career, in how I lived, how I raised our kid.” In the relationship itself. Everything was what Hassie wanted and how she wanted it, and in the end, I didn’t know if I was a part of either equation. “When I wasn’t sure if Auggie factored into how she balanced everything, I had to leave.”
“I’m sorry your marriage didn’t work out.”
Me too. I was sorry about a lot.
“Is it hard?” she asked. “Planning another wedding?”
Maybe if I thought about it. I tried to tuck all my feelings about Hassie and how things played out in the back of my mind. I couldn’t have it affecting my son. “No. It’s different.” I ducked my head. “Not better or worse. Just different.”
It was a fuck ton better, but if I said that, she probably wouldn’t believe me. I had to earn her trust.
She nodded, but her gaze skated away.
I nudged her chin up with a couple of knuckles. When did I get this close? “I promise that I’m never going to make you feel bad again. I’m only going to show you how amazing you are.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to placate me.”
“There’ll be no placating when all I can think about in bed at night is you in that soaked shirt.”
“It wasn’t soaked,” she croaked.
“It was wet in all the right places.” I stroked my thumb over her plump bottom lip. “And you in those leggings with the seam that goes between your butt cheeks. I want to know how my hands would look framing that ass. But what really takes up more mental space than I could’ve ever imagined is your legs. That power. That muscle. Wondering how wild a guy would have to drive you to find out just how crushing the power is around his head. How hard do you clamp down when you come with a man’s face between your legs?” I had just agreed with her that we needed boundaries, but dammit, she kept thinking I couldn’t be serious about how she affected me, and I couldn’t have that. She wasn’t trying to brush me off, she was brushing herself off.
Her lips parted, and her pupils dilated. Only a squeak left her. I continued stroking the lip I got to taste last night. She’d been sweet, like the beer we’d had. Refreshing. Addicting.
