Chapter 39
The Wi-Fion the plane is spotty at best, but by some miracle, I manage to send off a long, descriptive text to my mom and an email to Nathan. It’s early in the morning in Toronto, too early for Nathan to be awake yet, but I don’t need a quick reply from him.
Mom, on the other hand, I’d prefer one sooner than later. I glance at Poppy curled up in the chair opposite mine with a thick, fuzzy blanket over her shoulders and smile. She’s at ease, her features soft as she sleeps through the sudden spurt of turbulence.
The change in flight plan is still unknown to her. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision last night after tucking her into bed and lying beside her awake for hours. I’m selfish, I’ll admit that. And when I thought about never introducing her to my mom, I knew in my gut that it would be a mistake.
When I think back to every mistake I’ve ever made in my life, most of them only came to be because I ignored that instinct. Instead of trusting myself, I put what a CEO should do at the forefront of my mind. I refuse to do that again. Not with Poppy.
My phone vibrates on my lap, and I read it with a relieved sigh.
Mom: WHAT? You’re surprising me with this now?!?!? I’d give you hell if I wasn’t so damn excited!!! A girlfriend!! My boy!!
My chest warms at her reaction. I was expecting something along these lines, but confirming her excitement is exactly what I needed.
There’s only a small chance Poppy will be upset with me for not telling her about the change beforehand. If I know her the way I think I do, she’ll be more excited than anything else. And if not, then I’ll cross that bridge when we get there.
Typing out a message for my mom, I can’t seem to keep the goofy smile off my face.
Me: Try not to scare her off. I have a few more weeks with her and I don’t want to spend them trying to apologize on your behalf.
Mom: Don’t make me smack you upside the head. A few more weeks? We’ll be speaking about this when you get home.
Me: Have at it Mom. See you in three hours.
Mom: I love you.
Me: Love you too.
I don’t ask about my father. If he’s home, Poppy’s going to make it her mission to meet him. It’s only fair that she has the chance to do so. If I ask about him, Mom may try and get rid of him for the day, and if this is the only chance Poppy has at meeting him, I don’t want to take it from her.
Like they’ve been programmed to do so, my eyes are drawn to her again, and my breaths turn stuttered. Fuck, she’s beautiful. Her plump, pink lips are parted on soft breaths, long lashes fluttering as she dreams. The blanket slips down her shoulder, exposing a strip of skin from beneath the collar of her loose-fitting sweatshirt. Freckles have appeared across her cheeks and nose from the days in the sun, and they fit her perfectly.
My phone vibrates again, but it’s not a text this time. Nathan’s email address appears above the list of company updates I requested. It seems he was ready for my email this morning, probably having started collecting these updates over the past few days.
I should have been reaching out to my assistant for this information, but I’ve never loved having one of those. The only people I trust to take care of my affairs are myself and Nathan. Rachel is on the company payroll, but I hardly use her for more than fetching coffee and scheduling meetings. Some would be envious of how easy her job is these days.
Locking my phone, I ignore the email reply for now. It can wait until we get back to Cherry Peak. Right now, I’m content not knowing.
“Why are we at Pearson International?”Poppy asks once we’ve come to a stop on the airport tarmac.
She slept majority of the flight home, only having woken up a handful of minutes ago when we landed. Her messy hair and sleepy eyes are adorable, even as she narrows them on me suspiciously as I pull our luggage from the overhead bins.
“I was going to tell you before we got here, but I didn’t want to wake you up,” I start, pulling up the suitcase handles. “I thought you could meet my mom. Potentially my dad as well. We’d stay the night and get back to Cherry Peak early tomorrow morning so you can still head to work if you want to.”
I stare ahead out of one of the tiny windows, waiting for her reply. When it doesn’t come, my stomach shrivels up, regret sinking in. With a weighed exhale, I turn to apologize but stop short.
She’s grinning. Her hazel eyes sparkle as we stare at each other, no words said until she breaks the silence.
“You want me to meet your parents?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t exactly look my best right now.”
“You’re gorgeous.”
She tucks some hair behind her ear, rolling her eyes to play off my comment. “You’re obligated to say that.”
“I’d have to be blind not to think so. But you can take a few minutes to get ready before we step out if you want to.”
“I’ll be quick,” she replies instantly before grabbing her suitcase and rushing into the bedroom. The door shuts partially behind her but not completely.
An hour later, Harvey drives through the gate at my parents’ house and parks on the looped driveway. He gets out and unloads our luggage while I unbuckle my seat belt and reach across the gap in the back seat to squeeze Poppy’s thigh.
She’s a vision in a pair of light-wash jeans, tan sandals, and a flowy top. The auburn colour of her hair has begun to darken at the roots to a natural brunette. It’s in a fancy braid from the top of her head to just past her shoulders.
It would be oh-so easy to tug on while fucking her mouth, but that’s absolutely not what I should be thinking about moments before walking into my parents’ house.
“Ready?” I ask.
She pulls her stare from the view of the house and smiles reassuringly. “Yes. So ready. I already have a dozen questions I want to ask your mom about baby Garrison. She probably has a million stories about you.”
“I’m sure she’s been preparing far more than a dozen questions to ask you too. I’ve never brought a woman home to meet her before. I apologize in advance if she oversteps.”
“Never? How did I not know this?” she asks, mouth gaping.
“You never asked.”
“Okay, that’s fair, but still!”
“Did you really think that I’ve had the time or desire to date casually?”
“Well, not recently. But ever? Not even when you were a teenager? Before the company came to be?”
I slip my other hand to her cheek and lean across the gap between our seats. She follows my lead and ghosts her lips across mine.
“No, Poppy. You’re the first one. Nobody has ever compared to you. Now, come with me and put my poor mother out of her misery.” You can hear the smile in my words, and I’m growing less flustered by it as it becomes a more common occurrence.
“Kiss me first.”
With a light press of my lips, I do. It’s a test of my self-restraint to keep from deepening it, but if I do, we’ll never make it inside.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Poppy squeaks before pulling back, unbuckling her seat belt, and hopping out of the SUV.
I follow suit and meet her at the trunk. Taking her hand in mine, I stroke my thumb along her knuckles as we each grab a suitcase. The front door opens the moment we begin the walk up the driveway, and suddenly, I’m forgotten.
Mom takes the front steps too quickly for my peace of mind but doesn’t falter as she rushes toward Poppy. My hand is dropped like a hot potato, her suitcase abandoned on the pavement.
Poppy meets Mom halfway and swoops her into a cautious yet excited hug. Mom is a couple of inches shorter than Poppy, but you’d hardly tell when my girlfriend crouches enough to put them on an even playing field and laughs into her hair.
“Look at you!” Mom cries, rubbing a steady hand up and down Poppy’s back. “You’re beautiful. So, so beautiful.”
I swallow, ignoring the sudden urge to rub at the erratic thumping sensation in my chest as I watch them together. Poppy holds my mom in her arms with no sign of letting go anytime soon. Like she’s content in this moment. So am I.
“I’ve been hoping that I’d get the chance to meet you, Mrs. Beckett. Your son sings your praises,” she says.
“Cynthia. Please, call me Cynthia. You’re family now.”
My knees go weak. I shift on my feet, trying to gain back my balance before I fall face first.
“It’s amazing to meet you, Cynthia. Your home is . . . wow. It’s stunning.”
“You’ve seen nothing yet. I suppose I should let you go so we can give you a proper tour.” Mom tuts her tongue but doesn’t pull back from Poppy’s embrace.
“I think we can wait a minute longer,” Poppy tells her.
Mom looks at me over Poppy’s shoulder. Her expression says all I need to know, but the unshed tears gleaming in her eyes are the nail in the coffin. They only make it harder to stand back and give them their time together without begging them to let me join.
“I’m so happy you got to make the trip here. I’m probably a bit too excited, if I’m honest,” Mom admits when they break apart. She takes Poppy’s hands in hers and brings them to her chest for a second before releasing them.
Poppy grins. “I wouldn’t have missed the chance for the world.”
“Come here, Garrison. Join the conversation,” Mom calls.
I arch a sarcastic brow. “Are you sure you’re ready for me to interrupt?”
“Don’t feel left out, babe. We both love you,” Poppy teases, not seeming to realize what it is she’s just said.
I don’t miss it, and neither does Mom. She does a better job of hiding her surprise than I do because I choke on my own spit while she smiles wide enough that she could rip her cheeks.
Poppy rubs a hand up my spine and asks, “Are you okay?”
“Oh, he’s just fine,” Mom answers for me before looping her arm through Poppy’s and tugging her away from me. She leads her up the steps and into the house, leaving me behind.
Poppy glances back at me and winks before mouthing something I can’t make out, then disappears from view. I’m left outside in the sun, attempting to clear my throat enough to suck down a solid breath before I pass out.
“Are you okay, Garrison?”
The question startles me, but it’s just Harvey. He lingers with the two suitcases and my carry-on beside him, awaiting further instructions.
“I’m fine. Thank you for grabbing our luggage. I’ll let you know if we need you before tomorrow morning.”
He nods but does a shit job of hiding his amusement. More than a few people would love to watch me so out of my comfort zone, so I can’t even say that I blame him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
I wave him off. The only way he’ll see me tomorrow is if I can make it past today.