Page 82 of Poppy Kisses
My disappointment was understandable but present regardless. We were in a complicated situation, but I also wanted him to toss caution to the wind and claim me. Ultimately, like him, I’d never disrupt Auggie’s life for my selfish wants.
His heartbeat thumped under my hand. We stayed like this until little pricks of light appeared and disappeared in the distance.
“Fireflies,” I said, pushing up. “I haven’t seen them in years.”
“I used to when—sorry. Never mind.” He sat up and opened the door.
“You can tell me.” We were sharing our bodies, and we’d shared a lot of ourselves, but this moment was proof that he held back.
I didn’t think he would, but he paused with the door halfway open. “I used to wait up for Hassie when she’d be out partying after an event. I’d sit outside the trailer, fucking miserable and getting eaten alive by mosquitoes, and sometimes fireflies would be out.”
“You didn’t party?”
“Not after a while. It was just a bunch of rodeo people talking rodeo. I grew up ranching, yet I was the impostor.”
“Because you never rode a bull?” I said lightly.
“Not intentionally. And the barrels I raced were to get to a calf and get it tagged and vaccinated and get outta there before mama cow body-slammed me.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “But I didn’t do rodeo and I didn’t live and breathe horses, so I didn’t fit in. It’s like they thought my time helping Dad on our ranch was cosplay.”
“Just so happens I like former cowboys turned carpenters who are raising their kids and encouraging homeless women to start their own business.”
He laughed. “You weren’t homeless.”
“I had no address.”
“Now it’s the same as mine.”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
He squeezed my hand and ushered me into the passenger seat. He leaned in and gave me a lingering kiss before shutting the door and jogging around the hood of the pickup.
We wouldn’t be going to the same bed tonight, but we were going home together. We’d cuddled, and I looked forward to much more of that in our future.
The drive back to his place was quiet. Was he wondering if we were making a dumb decision to explore this chemistry between us? Were we foolish to think we could fan these flames and not explode while we were still married? I didn’t know and only time would tell, but with Jensen, I wasn’t as worried. He was calm and logical, and he looked out for me.
He turned down his drive. When he got closer to the house, a big silver Dodge dually sitting in front of his garage glinted in his headlights. He jolted like he’d gotten shocked.
“Who’s that?” I asked, frowning at his reaction and the large vehicle. If it looked this expensive in the dark, how fancy was it in the daylight?
He didn’t have to answer. The front of his house opened and a tiny woman sauntered out, legs as long as her shorts were short. Her blonde hair fell in waves down her back, and she stuffed her hands into the teeny pockets of her denim shorts. The porch light acted as a spotlight for her.
The shrewd but uncaring expression on her face made all sorts of memories tumble back. Recollections of a little girl who used to be my best friend until time and her superior attitude had put distance between us. Thoughts of a girl who hadn’t been sad when I moved, and she hadn’t said goodbye. Jensen’s ex-wife. Hassie.
ChapterTwenty-One
Jensen
My stomach bottomed out and the postcoital glow and optimism from minutes ago vanished. What the hell was she doing here?
Hassie watched me coast to where I normally parked, but her dually was blocking my spot. I gave her a little wave to try to keep the peace. Her returning smile was tight.
“Well, Hassie’s here.” My mom’s car was still parked by the shop. My ex must’ve just arrived, or Mom would’ve texted. Mom might’ve also made Hassie wait every minute of our date night to keep from bothering us. I’d have to apologize to her for the unexpected guest later. I hadn’t known my ex-wife would surprise us with a visit.
I swung around and parked by the shop too. Poppy was quiet. I killed the engine.
“I didn’t know.” I also didn’t want to get out of this vehicle. I had no desire to face Hassie or to figure out where Poppy and I were now after we’d just talked about where we were going.
Poppy wasn’t looking at me, but she also wasn’t looking toward Hassie. “It’s fine.” Her gaze stayed on her hands on her lap. “She’s Auggie’s mom.”
