Chapter 22
22
Poppy
“Holy shit!”
Laird jumps from the bed, ready to take down an intruder as every light in the house comes on, the appliances beep, and the alarm rolls through its reset tune.
Trying to figure out where my heart leaped, I sit up in bed, panting like a wildebeest, and slowly realize what’s happening. “Oh my God, Laird. You scared me.”
He slips on jeans, not bothering to fasten them, and is almost into the hallway when he reaches toward me in protective mode. “Stay here.”
“Guess the electricity is back on.” The clock flashes beside the bed, so I have no idea what time it is. I can still tap our phones since we charged at Maggie’s while at dinner. 3:46 a.m.
My head pounds, so I drink the water Laird put on the nightstand for me before bed and then slip on my sweatshirt and pajama pants. Padding down the hall into the living room, I find him resetting the alarm box at the door. He glances back. “Who knew we left so many lights on?”
“My heart is still racing.”
“Not a good way to wake up.”
I stand there, crossing my arms over my chest, noticing how domesticated this scenario is. I had a flash of a memory last night before it vanished, but this is a real peek into the future. I could only be so lucky.
Instead of standing there doing nothing, I work my way through the kitchen, resetting the clocks on the ovens and the microwave. I head down the hall to the room where I was staying and set that clock as well. As soon as I flip off the overhead light, I hear Laird’s footsteps, though I don’t see him.
He’s a figure in the dark hallway when he approaches. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Rubbing my shoulders, he asks, “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” Reaching out, I find the comfort of him to hold on to, already knowing my hand is over his guitar tattoos. “It’s good to have electricity again. Gives us more options for things to do, and I can cook for you.”
Only the bathroom light in the bedroom where we were sleeping remains on. It’s enough light to get my bearings in the house but, more importantly, to see Laird when my eyes adapt to the lower light level. With a knuckle under my chin, he lifts until our gazes latch together. “I meant your head. You had a headache earlier and then a memory.”
“I had a flash. That’s it. I’m not positive what triggered it.”
“Me saying I’ll buy you anything.” Chuckling, he kisses the bridge of my nose. “I would too. Anything you need. Anything you want, baby. ”
My tummy tightens in sheer response. Is it the words, the smooth dulcet tones, or the man himself? I’m betting everything that it’s Laird. I pull against him, wrapping my arms around him, and listen to his steady heartbeat. “You know what I need?”
“Sleep?”
I tilt my head up as astonishment gets the best of me. “How did you know?”
“Maybe because it’s the middle of the night, and we were just woken up by the power surging back on?”
“Guess it’s not that wild that you knew the answer.”
“Good guess. Come on,” he says, taking my hand. “Think you can fall asleep?”
“I’ll be asleep before my head hits the pillow.” Laird falls asleep faster, but I doze off tucked in his arms right after.
“We have two options.”
Cupping my mug, I let the scent of coffee waft in the air in front of me. It’s so good to have a few things in working order. Mugs. Coffee. Birds chirping. Best of all, the snow is almost gone. It’s pretty much downhill from here. Resting against the opposite counter as him, I ask, “Which are?”
“We stay, buy groceries again, and make the most of the remainder of the week together. Or we don’t bother with that and spend the rest of the week in Malibu.”
“What’s in Malibu?”
“My house.”
“Of course, it is.” I laugh and then take a sip from the mug. “On the beach?”
“No. We’re not The Resistance. Our band’s still fighting their way to the top. But I have a pool and a killer view. ”
I love his honesty. I love that he’s not arrogant. He’s just stating facts, like he did last night when he said most women want him. I’m starting to feel guilty for appreciating his appearance so much. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything, Poppy.” He picks up his coffee to drink, but his gaze stays fixed on mine. I can’t say worry crosses his eyes, but he shifts in unease.
“Does it bother you that women look at you like you’re the sum of your physical appearance?”
A crinkle divides his forehead as the left side of his mouth lifts. “That was unexpected. Um…” He looks at the ceiling before back at me. “Does it bother me when women stare or hit on me without knowing anything other than what I look like?” He chuckles. “No. I’m used to it.”
“Just like that. You’re used to it, so it’s fine and dandy.”
“I didn’t say it was fine or dandy, but why would I get worked up over it at this point?”
“What does ‘at this point’ mean?”
He shifts again, straightening his back this time but resting his hands on the counter behind him. He looks ready to dash, though his words contradict it—open to have the conversation. “I’m not going to waste my life worrying about what they think of me. There are only a handful of people whose opinion I value, but only one who makes me care if they think I’m attractive.” He pushes off and cages me in. “You.”
A fire is lit in my chest, warming me through my extremities. Creeping up my chest, I feel my cheeks heat as well. “I feel bad for being so attracted to you.” I cup his face and add, “But know it’s who you are under this incredibly sexy body and face that won my heart.”
His million-dollar smile makes my knees weak and my heart beat faster. Swooping in to catch me, he whispers, “ You wouldn’t feel bad if you knew all the things I’ve imagined doing with you, to you , and that sweet body of yours.” Getting a good hold on each cheek of my ass, he squeezes. “Trust me, none of them included that beautiful brain of yours.” His eyes dip to my mouth. “A lot had to do with that mouth, though.”
And then I crash to the ground, nothing but a limp bag of jelly . . . “Really?” I ask, wrapping my arms around him. I stare up, wondering how I got so lucky. Since I met Laird, I’m starting to believe I am one of the lucky ones. “Do tell.”
Taking my hand, he starts leading me toward the hallway. “I’d rather show you.”
“Malibu,” I say, getting out of the truck at Willie’s Mechanic Shop a few miles past Maggie’s Café. We cut through the small downtown, which consists of a bank, a post office, a teeny grocer, one fast food place, and a dollar store, though a diner that looks straight out of the fifties was just on the outskirts of the downtown area.
It’s cute, but only if visiting and coming fully stocked already.
Laird comes around the front of the truck and stops to wait for me. The smile has me thinking I made the right choice. “Why is that?”
“I came here to cook, but with most of the food spoiled, there’s really not much for me to do.”
“I have ideas to kill some time.”
Rocking my jaw back and forth, I then say, “Your ideas only include one thing. Sex.”
“And here I thought variety was the spice of life.”
I laugh, walking right into his arms. They come around me and hold me tight. “I’ll never tire of being with you however we decide to play, but I think I’m ready for warmth again.”
A kiss is planted like a seed of hope on the top of my head. “Malibu it is, then.”
We walk into the shop holding hands, but when Willie slips out from under the hood of an old truck, his eyes go straight for the bond. Laird doesn’t change a thing despite my thinking we would hide our relationship. He asks, “How’s the Honda?”
“The Honda . . .” Willie starts, though my attention is still on how possessively Laird is holding my hand. I should be listening, but I’m distracted by his words the other night and his actions coming together. “At least two weeks. It’s on backorder, and they can’t confirm a delivery date. That leaves me hunting one down in the meantime.”
I say, “We won’t be here.”
Laird looks at me. “I’ll send someone to get it when it’s ready to be picked up.”
Willie glances at me but keeps most of his attention on Laird. “I can call you.”
“It’s my car, actually,” I point out, “so I’ll leave my number with you.”
“Sure. Let me get a pen.”
When Willie walks inside a small office off the shop floor, Laird says, “If you’d rather not leave it, we can have it towed on a bed back to LA.”
“I don’t know any reliable mechanics there, so I’m not sure it makes sense to go to the trouble.”
Willie returns with a clipboard. I fill out the paperwork, and then after a quick goodbye to my car, Laird and I return to the truck. Exchanging I love yous doesn’t mean he owes me anything, not a public display, or that we’ll share our personal lives for consumption. But he did it anyway. Sure, it’s in Deer Lake and only at Willie’s Mechanic Shop, but it was more than I expected to show the world.
Tugging the door open, I spy him across the bench seat. He smiles, and it’s so genuine, so full of happiness that I’m taken aback by it. “I didn’t know if you were comfortable with PDA.”
He settles on the seat and sticks the key in the ignition with a laugh. “With you? Fuck yeah, I’m comfortable. Everybody can be jealous of me as the guy who gets to hold your hand.”
I land with a thump on the seat, though my heart soars above. “But you’re famous?”
Starting the truck, he turns to me, those lines digging deep between his brows. “What does that have to do with anything?”
My seat belt clicks, but I’m left here staring like he has a third eye. “What about this getting out?”
He scans outside the truck and then looks back at me. “We’re in Deer Lake. No one’s calling the paparazzi. No one is selling stories to the gossip sites.” Shifting into drive, he pulls forward, his attention going with him. “We grew up coming here, but we’re not the only famous people with properties in the county. The locals let us live our lives.” With a shrug, he adds, “That’s why we go to Maggie’s. No one asked me for an autograph or a selfie. You got drunk, and I enjoyed every minute, but we won’t have to read about it in the press.”
“What happens once we get back to LA?”
There’s a pause that stretches as long as the road ahead. “We already know.”
We do. I even do.
My best friend is an actress. Her husband is a P1 race car driver. Her family has been in the spotlight for the empire they’ve created. My own dad is hounded when he’s yachting in Europe, and my mom loves being featured.
I take a breath, needing to sober myself to the idea. “What will we do?”
Reaching over, he takes my hand again. “Face them together.”
Not two hours later, Laird left to take the trash to the nearest drop-off station while I finished packing my stuff. I set my knife bag down and walk out to see the lake. The urgency I felt to call Marina a few days ago faded as I settled into this extraordinary life with Laird in the mountains.
There’s a comfort I’ve found in him, one that I haven’t been able to ignore. So despite us rushing forward in every aspect of this relationship, it’s felt normal and right from the start.
It’s not me, though. It’s him. Something about him has me willing to throw caution to the wind and try to make something from nothing.
But what did I really have to lose?
The waves lap at the shore, the wind causing choppier waters. I don’t believe in those kinds of signs. I believe in Laird. That’s all I need.
I rub my arms to warm up because it’s still too chilly for my liking, but it’s still a beautiful view. We didn’t enjoy it much, but I’d love to return during the summer.
Life is changing, and I’m leaving behind the comfort I’ve found in Deer Lake. I take one big breath, hold it for a few seconds, and then slowly exhale. I’m ready.
When I turn around, Laird’s standing on the front porch with his hands tucked in his pockets. His posture is relaxed, and he wears a lazy grin. So much handsome, so much love to give in one person .
He was dark, and his soul was heavy. Anger tinged the edges of his temperament. I may never truly know what changed him, but he’s leaving here a different person. We both are.
I go to him, closing the distance and embracing him fully in my arms. “I love you.”
He tilts his head to the side, and his smile cracks his cheeks. “You do?”
“I do.”
“I love you, too.”
Maybe we’re young. Maybe we’re foolish.
Maybe . . .
Maybe . . .
Maybe . . .
Maybe I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. I love him as if it’s my destiny. So why am I nervous?
We close the doors to the truck and fasten our seat belts. The truck is shifted into gear, but as I take one last look at the lake, he says, “No matter what happens, it’s us against the world.”
Us against the world . Releasing a shaky breath, I nod. “No matter what.”