Chapter 6 #2
“Consider it an apology,” Cooper tried again. “I’m sorry I went off on you back there. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know,” Poppy snapped back, and despite his guilt, he had to stop himself from smiling. She hadn’t changed at all. Still as stubborn as she was at ten years old.
“I’m trying to extend an olive branch here,” he said. “Or are you going to make me beg?”
“Would you even know how?” Poppy’s voice was still clipped, but he could see the edges of a smile on her lips.
“I’m a little out of practice, I’ll admit.” Cooper smiled. “Come on. I’d never hear the end of it from June if you went down with pneumonia your first week here.”
Poppy paused, like she was assessing the road—and the chilled wind that was picking up off the ocean—then sighed. “OK. Thanks,” she added reluctantly, as Cooper stopped the truck and she scrambled up into the passenger seat.
“There, look at us, building bridges,” he said, trying again to make her smile.
He still felt bad for being such an ass earlier, but he couldn’t bring himself to explain why.
Why her simple belief in happy endings and true love brought out the devil in him.
He’d wanted to lash out, and she’d been an easy target.
Poppy sat silently as he drove back towards the coast. The mile passed quickly, and the beach house appeared in front of them, the porch lights casting the house in a warm glow. Cooper pulled up outside the front door. “Here you go.”
Poppy reached for the door handle.
“Wait, I’ve got that.” Cooper found himself getting out and circling round to get her door. Poppy blinked, clearly surprised he was being so chivalrous, but she let him help her down from the truck cab.
“Thank you.”
He walked with her up the front path. “You didn’t say how long you were staying in town,” he said, trying to make polite conversation.
“A few weeks, maybe. I’m trying to finish one of those bullshit romance novels.” Her voice was still icy.
He winced. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure yours are great.”
“Great for a lie, you mean.”
Cooper clenched his jaw. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but you have to admit, it’s not exactly real life you’re writing about.”
“So what if it isn’t?” Poppy protested, turning. “Maybe people deserve an escape.”
“But what happens when they buy into that?” Cooper asked. “And wind up believing that’s what their lives should look like? Soulmates. True love.”
“You don’t believe in love?”
Cooper flinched. “Yeah, but not like it is in the books. Real love is messy, and broken, and hard. Not all fairy tales and Prince Charming.”
“Says you.” Poppy’s gaze was determined. “If you want your life to be messy, and broken, and hard, then go right ahead. But don’t judge the people who want something different.”
Cooper exhaled. He didn’t have an answer for that.
Sure, he’d love to believe in a world like the ones in her books, but his life had shown him that was just a fantasy.
In her books, your mom didn’t walk out when you were just a kid, and you didn’t have to watch your father die of cancer, and the one woman you tried to build a future with . . .
Well, let’s just say they didn’t write a happy ending together. No, she saved that for some other lucky guy.
“I guess we’ll agree to disagree,” he said, not wanting to fight anymore. “But I am sorry, for giving you a hard time. I’ll try not to be a total ass like that again.”
“I won’t hold my breath,” she replied, but still, her expression softened. Cooper guessed that was about as much as he could hope for, considering.
He’d take it.
She climbed the front steps, then turned back, her face level with his. “What was her name?” she asked. Her eyes were illuminated in the porch light, compassionate and steady. “The woman who hurt you like this?”
“What makes you think someone hurt me?” Cooper shot back, even as a knot twisted in his gut.
Poppy smiled ruefully. “I like to think you weren’t always such an ass,” she said. “Although, now that I think about it . . .”
Cooper laughed, hollow. He shouldn’t have said anything, but there was something about the way she was looking at him, like somehow she understood the disillusionment that had carved its way deep into his chest.
“Laura.” Her name stuck in his throat. “We were . . . going to get married. Start a family. Then she made other plans.”
“I’m sorry.” Poppy reached out and rested her hand on his arm for a moment. “Some things aren’t meant to be.”
Her touch was light, gentle on his, and despite everything, her words slipped past his defenses. For a moment, Cooper could almost believe her. That it wasn’t his fault. That he hadn’t destroyed his own chances of happiness.
That somehow, this was all part of a bigger story, instead of the same ending he was doomed to repeat.
Cooper reached for her. He didn’t understand it, the instinct that suddenly surged through him. His body moved on its own, bypassing every rational thought as he stepped closer and reached to take her face between his hands.
Poppy’s mouth fell open in surprise, but she didn’t make a sound.
He kissed her.
Her lips were soft, already parted, and damn, so sweet it was like a rush of pure sugar flooding his system, drowning out the darkness for one glorious moment as he reveled in the taste of her mouth, the soft touch against his hands, and the way her body swayed against him, closer, all heat and warm curves.
It felt right. Even as his brain caught up with him, it felt too good to be holding her in his arms. She let out a breathy sound against his mouth, and then she was kissing him back—as lost to the moment as he was, as their tongues intertwined in a sensual dance and he felt every last synapse in his body come screaming to life.
Wanting her. Wanting more.
What the hell was he doing?
He stepped back. Poppy looked dazed, her skin flushed and her eyes still half-closed. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“I, uh,” Cooper coughed. Poppy Somerville wasn’t for kissing—or anything else. She’d already made it clear what she thought of him, and “incompatible” didn’t even begin to cover it. “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “That was . . . I don’t even know. Sorry. Forget it even happened.”
He turned on his heel and left, before he took leave of his senses and did anything stupid.
Like taking her to bed.