Page 60 of Poppy Kisses
“Of course.” He took the stairs two at a time.
“I’m covered in paint.”
“It’ll wash off.” He planted a kiss on me. My back hit the wall. I giggled into his mouth.
“Don’t forget what night it is,” he said against my lips.
“Saturday night.”
“Date night.”
Dates and sex. Either/or was one thing. Was both at the same time smart? I went still and he pulled back, concern in his eyes.
“What’d I say wrong?” he asked, suddenly serious.
“I don’t know if date night and fucking should go together.”
Realization dawned in his eyes, chased by disappointment. Then his gaze went neutral.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He stroked the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “For what?”
“I keep pushing you away.” What if, someday, he kept that distance between us? “I just don’t want to confuse myself.”
I had trash taste in men, but Jensen didn’t fit in that category. So if he let me go after our year of marriage was up? I’d be devastated. Everything I had was getting invested into this house and this business. I wouldn’t be able to pick up and move. I’d just be crushed and have to see the crusher around town.
“I understand.” He kissed my forehead and stepped away, his movements stiff. “How about we add another rule to our agreement?”
My nod was jerky. “What?”
“You make the first move.”
“Oh.” Why did that bother me? He was giving me all the power.
“That way, you’re not going out of your comfort zone.”
That made sense, but there was something off. His shuttered expression didn’t match his tone. Just then, a text made my phone vibrate. I didn’t make a move for it.
“Go ahead,” he said softly. “Answer it.”
Since I didn’t know what else to do, I retrieved the phone from my pocket.
Clover: When are we going dress shopping?
Oh. The dress. The wedding. I hadn’t started planning much. Rattler’s was catering. Alder said he’d round up the tables and chairs. That left one main thing. “Clover wants to go dress shopping.”
“Sounds fun. Can’t wait to see you in a dress.”
Old memories crowded into my brain. “Really?”
“One hundred and ten percent. One giant leg tease. I’ll be hard all day.”
The comparison game demanded to be played. Me in a wedding dress versus Hassie in a wedding dress. But all the comments about my legs slowly erased what he’d said when we were younger. I was tired of comparing myself to her. She was someone I hadn’t seen in twenty years, and I may not see her for twenty more.
* * *
Jensen
