Page 80 of Poppy Kisses
The large windows making up a wall of Bishop’s overlooked the lake. Built on the higher side of Lake Sakakawea, the restaurant looked like a sprawling shack from the outside and a small-town bar on the inside. Poker and pull-tab machines filled a room to the right after we entered, and various booths and tables lined the space around a square bar. Dishes clanked and sizzles were muted from the kitchen on the far side of the place.
We were seated at a cozy table by the windows. A giant canoe was mounted on the wall above our heads and the paddles were crossed and secured directly across from us. When I was with Poppy, I didn’t feel like an accessory. She was with me. Jensen Hollis. A dad who didn’t write the best but could make gorgeous cabinets. I didn’t have to be anything more than Jensen with her.
Poppy pushed her plate away and rested a hand on her belly. “Ohmigosh, that was so good.”
“We’re going to have to come every night so I can hear you moan like that.” When she’d put that first piece of shrimp in her mouth and groaned, rolling her eyes closed, I’d been ready to haul her out over my shoulder.
Pink tinted her cheeks. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“It’s not bad. It’s too good.” I loved her moans. She didn’t have to make a sound for me to know that she liked something. She clenched around me, gripped my shoulders, swiveled her hips. The sexy sounds were the cherry on top to complete the sensory overload she gave me.
She took a drink of her raspberry lemonade. “I was afraid the food quality had gotten worse over the years, but it’s better than I remembered.”
“I haven’t been out here since I moved back.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime.” I meant it. Whenever she wanted to eat at Bishop’s, I’d take her.
“Think Auggie would like seafood?”
“Maybe. I don’t usually cook it.” A warmth flooded my chest. She was always thinking of him, involving him. The first night of soccer practice had hit me in the feels. I’d watched her coach my son and build him up. She’d done that with all the kids in her short time with them. She was a natural, and it wasn’t for show. I’d never be able to tell her how much that meant. There were no words strong enough. Nor could I describe what it did to me. I’d have to show her.
I started to see a different future for myself, one that wasn’t full of me hustling to earn a living to keep me and my son in our house. I could picture more days like the last few weeks. I’d work in my shop, meet with potential customers, book steady work, and talk to Poppy about it all. We’d spend time together, the three of us, and then when Auggie was in bed, she’d be all mine.
The only thing that’d make it better would be to wake up to her.
My skin grew tight. In a couple of weeks, this wedding was supposed to be for show, but it was getting harder to deny that I wanted it to be very much real.
What did Poppy want? She seemed happy. She seemed content. But she’d admitted to being a girl who left when the going got tough, yet she’d also been alone. Would I be worth sticking around for? I wasn’t begging to be loved ever again.
Would I have to beg with Poppy?
The teen server came by. “Can I interest you in any dessert?”
I lifted a brow at Poppy. She had a sweet tooth, and if she wanted to moan over some cheesecake, I wasn’t stopping her.
“Uh…” Poppy’s gaze landed on the dessert placard, and she drank in the slice of cookie dough cheesecake front and center of the options. “…nah. I’d better not.”
“I’ll share it with you.” I’d rather feed her a bite and then sample the flavor off her lips. Actually, that was a good idea. “A slice of the cheesecake, please. Can you pack it to go?”
The girl smiled. “Absolutely.”
Poppy shook her head, an amused smile dancing over her lips. “To go?”
“Yeah, I want to take a drive with you.”
Her grin deepened. “Is that all you want to do?”
“No, it’s only the beginning.”
* * *
Poppy
The dessert container lay open and empty in the front seat. I was in the back, racing toward my orgasm with my head wedged between the seat and the window. A copse of trees hid us from the dirt road that we’d followed to get here.
Jensen drove into me, his shorts around his ankles and his shirt pushed up because I couldn’t get enough of touching him. I raked my fingernails down his torso as he plunged in and out. I arched into him as best I could.
