28. Poppy
28
Poppy
I t’s only been one week, but I’ve already had more of the guys reach out to order lunch from me. After seeing the food that was served on Monday, my phone completely blew up. Wyatt also suggested reaching out to his neighbors, Kyle and Violet, who run a company with a large team of their own, but I told him to hold off until we’re doing this properly.
What I didn’t say was I’m not sure if we’ll ever get to that point, not when every commercial kitchen I’ve looked at is an unfathomable amount to rent, even with the extra money coming in from more orders. And I definitely didn’t say that I keep thinking about how I could have used the money Kurt stole from me to make it happen. That would only get Wyatt fired up again.
But I’ll try to make this work. I’ll find a way. I have to. And the first thing to do is to get the licenses I need.
My alarm goes off at 5 a.m. and I roll over, silencing it before it wakes Wyatt. Ever since we made things official a week ago, I’ve slept in here. Well, we spend half our time sleeping, half our time having sex, but that’s a pretty good deal. I’m happy to miss sleep for him.
Wyatt’s arm snakes around me in the dark, pulling me into the heat of his body.
“You’re not getting up already, are you?”
I sigh, nestling back into his warmth. So much for not waking him.
“I’ll have to get up soon,” I tell him, wriggling my ass against the hardness I can feel there. “You have ten minutes.”
His hands stray down to squeeze my breasts. “I can work with that.” He tugs my nightgown up, sliding a hand between my legs to stroke my clit, his breath hot on the back of my neck, his cock growing harder against my backside. After a few minutes of teasing, he wordlessly thrusts into me, hands gripping my hips as we move together. It doesn’t take long for us both to reach our climax, then I roll over to kiss him good morning before disappearing to the shower, despite his protests. I’d much rather stay in bed with him all day, but I have much to do.
In the kitchen, I set about making the lunches for today. I have four different sites to drop orders to, and while it’s convenient to use Wyatt’s truck, that’s not exactly a long-term plan. I should really have a vehicle of my own, as well as possibly hiring some help, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
He appears at the bottom of the stairs a little while later with a yawn, fresh from the shower, his hair damp and mussed. I run my eyes over him appreciatively, then follow with my hands. It’s such a novelty that I get to touch him whenever I want now, and I’m still getting used to it.
He walks me back against the counter. “It kills me every time you put this apron on,” he says roughly, his hands skating to my hips, where he squeezes. “I don’t know why, but it’s so Goddamn sexy.”
I giggle, rising to my toes to kiss him. I’ll have to remember that.
With a sigh, he pulls himself away from me, grabbing his coffee. “I’ll see you at the site around twelve?”
“Definitely.” And I watch him go, counting the minutes until I’ll get to see him again.
It’s 1:45 by the time I finally get home from delivering the lunch orders, and I have to rush to meet Daisy outside the house at 2 p.m. She’s been busy all week with work and a couple of photography gigs, but that’s given me time to take the first steps of my plan, including putting together the basics of a marketing plan and a new website for Wyatt’s proposed business. He knows nothing about my secret project, and that’s exactly how I want to keep it until I’m ready to show him.
“Hey.” Daisy waits on the stoop when I step outside after a quick play with Sugar and a bite to eat. “You ready?”
I nod, smiling as she pulls me into a hug, her camera around her neck between us.
“Thanks so much for agreeing to do this,” I say, and we walk toward the Fruit Street Community Garden. When I told her about my idea to create a website and marketing plan to show Wyatt what’s possible with his passion for vegetable gardening, she was eager to help.
“Of course. I think it’s so generous you’re doing this for Wyatt.”
I nod, keeping my gaze fixed ahead as we walk. She doesn’t know that things are different between me and him now.
And by different, I mean so freaking wonderful I actually still can’t believe it. Can’t believe I get to be with him, to kiss him every morning, fall asleep beside him every night. I never could have dreamed I’d be this lucky.
“ So generous,” Daisy repeats with emphasis, and I slide her a glance. She’s studying me through slightly narrowed eyes, as if she suspects there’s more to the story than I’m letting on.
Would it be the worst thing in the world to tell Daisy? Falling in love with Wyatt is the most exciting thing to happen to me since I don’t know when, and usually Bailey is the first person I’d share any news with, but in this case, obviously, I can’t. And while I definitely feel guilty about that, the guilt is eclipsed at the prospect of telling Daisy. I’m sure she would keep it to herself, and besides, she’s got an older man of her own. She’d probably understand better than anyone.
So, I decide, as we reach the garden and enter through the creaking gate, that’s where I’ll start.
I motion to Wyatt’s veggie patch, explaining that I want her to take a variety of shots to capture what he’s growing. There are huge, bulbous cauliflower that look great, and beautiful sweet peas climbing a metal frame, their flowers blooming in a riot of color. All this will look amazing on his website and social media.
Daisy sets about shooting her pictures, explaining that she’s using a digital camera instead of her usual film camera, because it will allow her to upload them quickly and play with the colors and filters. She says something about the light being perfect too, as it slants between the buildings and brightens the garden. I nod along, half listening, half thinking about the best way to launch into what I want to ask.
“So, Wes is nice,” I say blandly, picking at a clump of rosemary and holding it up to my nose. “How did you two meet?”
Daisy pauses in her work, glancing up at me with a cringe. “It’s… kind of a long story.”
I shrug. “I’m happy to listen, if you want to tell me.”
She contemplates this for a beat, then lifts the camera to her eye, focusing on a patch of cabbages. “Well, the short version is that he was a customer at Joe’s for a year, then I dated his son without realizing, then…” She stops to adjust something on the camera, as if buying for time, and adds, “Then… we got together.”
I blink. She dated his son? So, he’s her ex-boyfriend’s dad? I can’t stop the surprised laugh that issues from me.
Daisy lowers her camera with a frown. “I know it sounds bad, but I’d known Wes a lot longer, and we—”
“No, sorry.” I reach out to touch her arm, feeling bad. “I’m not judging you, trust me. It’s just… I’m in a similar situation, and it’s good to know I’m not alone.”
Daisy’s eyes sparkle. “You and… Wyatt?”
I nod, chewing my lip. “He’s not my ex’s dad, but he’s my best friend’s dad.”
She chuckles. “Seriously, I have to introduce you to Violet. She got together with her dad’s best friend, Kyle.”
My head spins. “For real?”
Daisy nods, then shrugs. “Honestly, I think we know what we want. And it’s not some twenty-something guy who’s going to behave like a child.”
“Amen,” I murmur, and she laughs. I join her, adding, “Wow, I feel so much better.”
“Let me guess.” Daisy sighs. “You feel guilty about lying to your friend, right? And I bet Wyatt feels bad keeping it from his daughter?”
I give a humorless laugh. “Got it in one.”
“Yeah.” She glances at her camera, fiddling with it for a moment, then looks back at me. “I’m sorry to say, but you need to tell her. Especially if you want any kind of future with Wyatt.”
“I know.” I swallow, my stomach flipping nervously.
“And it’s best she hears it directly from you or him, rather than discovering it on her own.” Daisy winces. “Trust me.”
I blow my breath out slowly. God, I’d hate for Bailey to find out somehow. She’d be horrified, and not only would I probably lose her as a friend, I’d lose Wyatt, too.
But am I getting too far ahead of myself, thinking about a future with Wyatt? Has he thought about a future with me? Has he considered telling her?
Daisy turns back to her camera, crouching to shoot the rainbow chard. “You’ll know when the time is right,” she murmurs quietly, as if reading my thoughts.
I can only hope that’s true.
Daisy sends through a few of the photographs an hour later, surprising me. I thought she’d need longer to get them ready, but the shots she sends are gorgeous, capturing the details and colors of the plants, a feast for the eyes. They look great as I excitedly load them up onto the website, then prepare some posts for social media. The more I can show him the possibilities with this idea, the better.
My phone vibrates on the counter, and I pick it up, wondering if it’s Wyatt. But when I look at the screen, I see it’s an unknown number. I hesitate, not wanting to answer, but it could be someone inquiring about the lunch catering. With a sigh, I accept the call.
“Hello?” I wait, listening, but no one responds. “Hello, Poppy speaking,” I try again, pulling the phone away to check the call is actually connected. It is. Weird. Pressing it back to my ear, I try one more time. “Can I help you?” The sound of breathing comes through the speaker, then the call drops out.
I look at my phone, blinking, my mind going to the place it always does in these kinds of situations. Kurt . But why would he call me and not say anything? If there’s one thing Kurt likes, it’s the sound of his own voice.
Shaking the thought off, I set my phone aside to focus on making a roasted cauliflower dish for dinner with a head I picked up from the garden today. While it’s roasting, I pop upstairs for a quick shower, peeling my apron and clothes off in the bathroom, my mind on Daisy’s words from this afternoon as I step under the steam.
The truth is, I do want a future with Wyatt. Desperately. I want all of my future with him. No man has ever made me feel the way he does, so safe, so seen, so supported. I know it’s only been a short time since we got together, but it feels like longer. It feels like things have been brewing between us since I moved in, even if I didn’t realize it. I think of what he told me when we first slept together in Napa, that he’s wanted me since Bailey’s party, and satisfaction sinks into my bones, because I wanted him since that moment too, whether I could admit it or not. And suddenly, I understand why he was so difficult when I first moved in. It wasn’t because he didn’t want me there—it was because he didn’t want to want me there. He was fighting feelings for me and pushing me away. It makes so much sense now.
I didn’t mean to fall in love with him so quickly. It just happened, but I wouldn’t change it, and I don’t think he would either. I’m sure he wants what I want, or he wouldn’t take the risk he’s taking with Bailey. He wouldn’t make love to me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever touched. He wouldn’t have told me he loves me in a way he didn’t know was possible.
I mean, okay, he hasn’t said it since, but neither have I. Maybe he thinks I only said it because I was caught up in the moment after we made love. But I’m sure he meant it.
Right?
I recall the times Kurt told me he loved me, only to turn around and act as though I was someone he could barely tolerate. Then I catch myself, shoving the memories away.
I will not compare him to Wyatt. They couldn’t be more different.
And the reason I know that is because Wyatt is doing everything he can to help me bloom, after Kurt tried to bury me. He’s done nothing but lift me up, champion me, and I suddenly ache to give him the same in return. I’ve got the website and marketing plan for his new business, but it doesn’t feel like enough. I want to give him more. I want to give him me, all of me. Everything.
A sound from downstairs snaps me from my thoughts, and I suddenly remember the cauliflower roasting in the oven.
“Shit,” I mutter, turning the shower off and stepping from the tub, drying myself roughly with my towel. I spy my apron on the floor and quickly yank it around me, tying it at the back as I descend the stairs to the kitchen.
The cauliflower isn’t ruined, though. I breathe out in relief as I adjust the temperature, adding more time to the oven timer. Then I notice what the noise was: Sugar knocked a stack of plastic measuring cups off the counter. I gently scold her as I bend to scoop them up, placing them on a high shelf where hopefully she won’t reach them.
“You’re trying to kill me.”
Wyatt’s voice makes me jump, and I spin around in surprise. I didn’t hear him come in. His eyes rake over me, naked apart from my apron, and he kicks off his boots, heat flashing in his gaze as he stalks across the kitchen.
“From now on, I want you to greet me like this every night,” he growls, dragging his nose along my neck, his hands sliding around to cup my bare ass.
I giggle. I hadn’t meant to greet him dressed like I’m about to shoot a porn film, but I’ll do whatever he asks if he responds like that.
“Okay,” I agree, kissing his neck. He smells like earth and sweat, a primal smell that makes my core clench with need. “What else do you want?”
“You, baby. Just you.” He sighs into my hair, but I don’t want him sweet right now. I want him dirty and demanding. I want him to take from me like he never lets himself. I want to submit to him.
I shake my head, pushing him away. “I’ll give you whatever you want, Wyatt. Right now. What do you want?”
He stares at me, his eyes darkening with understanding. “Whatever I want, huh?”
I nod, swallowing. My heart beats wildly as he reaches for his belt buckle. The clink of him slowly undoing it might be the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
“You sure about that, Poppy?”
There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes, and I get a flashback to when we fucked after the shower and he warned me, be careful what you wish for . Seeing him give in to that was amazing. I want him to do that again.
And even though he looks as though he could eat me alive right now, I know I’m safe with him. I trust him more than anyone.
“I’m sure,” I purr, biting my lip in what I hope is a seductive manner. Apparently it is, because he tosses his belt aside, sliding one hand into my hair, guiding me down.
“On your knees for me, pretty girl.”