Chapter 37
The hammock sways beneath us,the water skimming our backs with every swish. Poppy’s cheek rests on my chest, her bare, tan leg thrown over my hips. Hours beneath the sun every day have given us both a soft tan that will no doubt serve as a reminder of our time here long after we go home.
I bury my nose in her hair and sigh. I’ve been feeling uncharacteristically blissful during our stay. The last thing I want to do is leave tomorrow. But real life awaits us the moment we touch down in Canada, whether we’re ready for it or not.
“If I ask you a serious, kind of invasive question, will you flip this hammock over?” she asks, breaking the silence.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, Poppy. You should know that by now.”
She nuzzles her cheek over my chest. “What really happened with Jocelyn?”
“You didn’t read about it online?”
“I did, but I’d rather know the truth from you directly. Rag mags are considered such for a reason.”
I pause, soaking in her statement. When was the last time someone asked for my side of things before assuming what they read online was the full truth? I only wish that this time, I had more of a side to defend myself with.
“They weren’t completely wrong with what they posted. I did refuse her extra security when I shouldn’t have. It was a terrible call on my end. A selfish one stemming from arrogance and just plain stubbornness. Her safety should have been a priority for me, and it just wasn’t,” I explain woodenly.
“You said they weren’t completely wrong. So, what did they get wrong?”
“It wasn’t a publicity stunt. I didn’t purposefully put her in danger hoping something like this would happen. I’m an asshole, but I’m not evil. What happened to her was a terrible consequence of me refusing her the protection she deserved. It wasn’t intentional.”
Even simply recalling some of the tabloids I read has my blood boiling. Being painted as a villain isn’t a first for me. I can’t say I care much about the opinion others have of me. Actually, I don’t care at all. But to insinuate I chose to put her in danger with the intent of her being attacked goes far past what I have the patience for.
Not like that makes a difference. I can’t speak about it. It’s why I’ve been in Cherry Peak. Hiding. Punished for my misdoings, yes, but hiding nonetheless. In a perfect world, I’d have released a statement explaining, and Jocelyn would have forgiven me without all of this.
The world is far from perfect.
The arm Poppy has stretched across my abdomen tightens its hold as her thumb draws a hot line up and down my side. “I believe you. You’re far from evil, Garrison Beckett.”
The balloon of worry in my chest starts to deflate but doesn’t pop. Not yet.
“I don’t mind being feared. Every Swift Edge Records employee knows they have to work hard to impress me. Their fear gives me power, and I need power in my line of work.”
“Be powerful, then. I’m not intimidated by you,” she says.
“You haven’t seen who I am back in Toronto.”
“And you think if I did, I’d what? Run?”
I swallow the rock-sized lump in my throat. “Do you know what I did to Brody last year?”
Poppy lifts her head from my chest and uses her arm to prop herself up enough to stare at me, expression stern.
“Yes, I do know what happened.”
“And? You’re not spitting mad at me? It’s my fault he nearly lost his voice. My inability to find compassion for those I’m responsible for. He put his trust in me, and I nearly cost him everything because I wanted to hit deadlines that I should have known wouldn’t work,” I spit, angry with myself, old wounds reopened and seeping blood.
“I’m not going to be mad at you just because you want me to. I’ve had this conversation with Anna too, by the way. Yes, you made a mistake. Everyone does—big, fancy CEOs are no exception. It’s how you go about it afterward that counts. Of course I’m upset with you for what happened in solidarity with my best friend. That’s her man we’re talking about. But I’m not going to hold a grudge against you for it. Do it again and we’ll be having a different conversation. Right now, though, you don’t need my forgiveness.”
“What if I want it anyway?” I croak, my eyes darting back and forth between hers. “What if I need to hear you say that you forgive me for it?”
She reaches up and takes my jaw in her hand, holding me turned to face her. It’s unnecessary. The last thing I want to do is look away.
“Then I forgive you,” she whispers. “You’re far more incredible than you give yourself credit for. I wouldn’t mind spending years showing you just how much.”
“Years with you sounds like a dream, Poppy.”
Her smile is beautifully fragile. “I see you. All of you, and I love it all. Every piece, smooth and jagged. Cruel and sweet.”
I press my cheek into her hand and shut my eyes, reeling at the mess of emotions pounding within the confines of my chest. I’ve never been in love with someone before, but it doesn’t matter.
There’s no mistaking it for anything else.
I love Poppy, and I don’t know what that means for us going forward.
Water dripsfrom the ends of Poppy’s hair down her spine and into the thin material of her bikini bottoms. From there, it cascades down her thighs and calves before hitting the white sand, soaking deep within it. It’s hard to walk in a straight line behind her when I keep looking at her ass.
Bryce packed the fucking worst swimsuits. It was her way of getting payback. She’s probably drinking a beer with Johnny at this very moment, cackling about how I must be losing my mind. And they’d be completely right.
Poppy’s ass is something else. Completely out of this world with thick round cheeks that bounce and shake with every step she takes. The thin strip of fabric she calls a bikini bottom has been tucked between those cheeks, only a small triangle left to be seen at the top. Neon green against her deep brown tan. I tip my head back and groan.
She glances at me over her shoulder and smirks. “Something wrong?”
“Clench for me, honey,” I say, smirking right back.
Her glare is immediate, but I don’t miss the slight shiver that works through her as she quickens her steps.
“Feeling a bit stuffed?” I call.
“I think you’ve forgotten about the other toy you bought me. Don’t be getting too cocky.”
Chuckling, I follow her into the bungalow, wet feet padding along the wood floors. She grabs the thick beach towel from the back of one of the dining chairs and starts drying her hair.
The sun has begun to set along the horizon behind us, and after an afternoon spent in the water with snorkelling gear, I’m exhausted. A good tired that speaks of long days in the sun and a mind full of new memories. The slight burn on my shoulders is a welcome pain as I find my towel and pat myself dry.
“You’re the only one getting fucked in the ass tonight, gorgeous.”
Her freckles are dark on her cheeks despite her blush. “Keep teasing me and it won’t be happening.”
“You don’t want to have worn a plug all afternoon for nothing, do you? What a waste that would be,” I say coyly.
“I’m going to punch you.”
“I prefer scratching.”
“You’re a psycho.”
“Yet you still love me. Does that make you a psycho by association?”
“I suppose it does,” she answers without missing a beat. “How romantic. A pair of psychos. Maybe someone will make a movie about us one day.”
“Maybe. Plan on doing something movie-worthy? Murder, perhaps?”
Her eyes twinkle with such a blinding happiness that I feel my heart physically skip. “Depends. Know anyone deserving?”
“Do you?”
She lifts a shoulder and drags her towel down her front, between her tits and over her belly. I bite my tongue to keep from groaning again.
“I’ve already warned my mother that I may steal a weapon from Dad’s tool box to whack my landlord on the head a couple too many times.”
I wrap my towel around my waist and then grow still, giving her my full attention. “What did he do?”
“He’s just an old bastard.”
“Poppy,” I scold. “Explain.”
She huffs. “He’s just being a stubborn ass. My hot water is out in the studio, meaning my showers are all but a waste of space until he calls someone to fix it. I tried enlisting my brother’s help, but he’s as useless with plumbing as I am.”
“How long has it been out for?”
“I dunno. A month or so.”
“A month? That’s unacceptable.”
She nods in agreement. “Totally. But for now, it is what it is. There isn’t really another space for me to rent in Cherry Peak that would work for the studio. I got lucky with my current space already. I’m a bit short on other options,” she says, sounding resigned.
That pisses me off. “I’ll speak with him when we get back. Get it taken care of. You’re paying this man for the studio space, so he’s legally required to fix what’s broken at any time. I’ll bring my lawyer into it if I need to.”
Her giggle surprises me. I do a double take.
“You’re sweet, Garrison. If you want to talk to him, then by all means, go for it. Just don’t get me kicked out, or I’ll definitely not be moving in with you for the next three weeks.”
“You’re not going to try telling me not to get involved? And did you just finally agree to staying with me?”
“I will stay with you only if you manage not to get me evicted from my studio space. And no, I’m not. I know I don’t need you to take care of my problems for me just as well as you know I don’t. I’ve tried to deal with it on my own, and clearly, it hasn’t gotten me anywhere.” She pulls all of her hair into one hand and twirls it around her finger before draping it over her shoulder. “Wanna help me take my bathing suit off now, or do you want to talk about this more?”
I blink at her, collecting my thoughts as my cock twitches in my swim trunks. She arches a trimmed brow and nods to the hallway leading to our room.
“Well?” she asks.
“The conversation is done just like that?”
She lowers her brow. “Did you have something else to add first?”
“No.”
“Then yes, I’d prefer spending our time doing something that doesn’t include talking about my asshole landlord. Like getting this plug out of me, maybe?”
I scratch at my hairy jaw and prowl closer to her, legs eating the distance between us. She starts taking a step back with every one I take forward, leading me to the bedroom.
“We take that plug out and I’m filling your ass with something much bigger. You ready for that?”
Her throat bobs before she licks her lips and says, “There’s only one way to find out.”
And then she’s spinning on her heel and taking off down the hall, the ass in question making me curse the entire way after her.