Chapter 7 Poppy #2
Phantom places an order for us, and I only half hear him.
I’m looking behind us at Jax and the girls, but they seem to be having an incredible time.
Maybe this is my sign to do the same. I take another sip of that delicious drink until Phantom’s hand crosses the table and takes mine again.
He traces his fingers along the faded ink of my tiny tattoo.
“You were saying?” he asks.
If I was saying something, the thoughts fly right out of my hand at the feel of his fingers against mine. I giggle, and I realize that I’d better sip some water and slow my pace on that drink.
“So, what do you do?” I ask, reaching for a neutral topic. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I remember what my client said about his biker buddies being criminals. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it.”
A lazy smile curls over his lips, and all I can think about is running my hands through his beard.
He’s telling me about his club and the businesses they run, but I’m just staring and only half listening.
He’s staring right back, with that unbelievable intensity that makes me wish we were alone in a room and not two people at a small table surrounded by our kids and a restaurant full of people.
After I have a few more sips of my drink, the waitress puts a plate in front of me, and I take a bite of the most delicious lobster ravioli I’ve ever eaten. This is officially the best meal I’ve ever had and the best company I’ve been with in ages.
“How did you end up doing hair?” Phantom asks, motioning to the waitress for another round of drinks.
I can’t stop the smile that covers my face.
“Well, if you ask my sister, I was born to do hair.” I laugh.
“I’ve always loved makeup and hair. I tried dyeing my hair using real bleach when I was twelve because I heard my mom talking about someone being a bleach blonde.
” I laugh even harder at the memory. “Of course, that is not how it works.”
Phantom’s eyes follow my every move, and my skin pebbles under his gaze. “I went to community college for one year after high school, trying to figure out if there was anything else I wanted to do. But in the end, I went to beauty school.”
“Why would you go to community college if you knew what you wanted to do?” he asks, studying my face.
I shrug. “Michael, my husband. We were high school sweethearts. He was incredibly ambitious. He really didn’t love the idea of me not going to college, of working on my feet all day.
” Phantom’s face falls a bit, but he doesn’t say anything, so I go on.
“My mom agreed with him, but I ended up doing what I really wanted to do.”
“How did you end up with your own place?” He’s finished his dinner and is leaning with his elbows on the table, listening like this is the only place on earth he wants to be.
“That’s where my life story gets a little tragic.
” I explain to him that my dad retired from a job he absolutely hated when I got pregnant with Jax.
“He wanted to be a hands-on grandpa.” I smile and take another sip of my drink to hide my tears.
“Dad was incredibly handy. He spent the first year of his retirement building my salon,” I say.
“He was a bookkeeper his whole life. He didn’t have many skills, but he was hell-bent on seeing me be my own boss, have a place where I could pursue my dream and raise my son.
He really wanted me to have it all. And since Clara went to beauty school too, he figured building the business was something he could give to both his girls. ”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s not a happy ending to this story?” Phantom asks, his hand finding mine across the table again. I can’t believe I don’t even think about pulling away.
“Because there’s not,” I say, looking down.
“Dad died just after the salon opened. He worked his whole life doing something he hated, spent one year of retirement putting his blood, sweat, and tears into my salon, and then, he died. Massive heart attack. Mom found him at home, but he’d been gone at least a couple of hours. There was nothing that could be done.”
I use the hand that Phantom isn’t holding to take another sip of my drink. This poor man. This has to be the worst date he’s ever had. Between talking about my dead husband and my dead father.
“I’m sorry you’ve been through so much. You’re one hell of a strong woman.”
I chuckle. “It sure doesn’t feel like it most of the time,” I say. “But thank you.”
He’s looking at me, his eyes following my lips as I speak. The table feels suddenly very small, and when I cross my legs, I accidentally kick his shin under the table.
“Oops, sorry,” I say.
His face is composed, his shoulders relaxed.
His hand is still on mine, our knees so close under the table, I swear I feel his heat through his jeans.
I think I need to get up and use the restroom.
Splash some water on my face and clear my mind.
Check on Jax. Put some distance between this gorgeous man and thoughts that can’t lead me anyplace good.
I pull my hand from his. “Will you excuse me… Whoa.”
When I stand, the full impact of the drink makes itself known. “Uh-oh,” I say. “It’s been way too long since I’ve had a drink that strong. I think I’m going to need to call a taxi to get home. I’m feeling a little too buzzed to drive.”
Phantom is on his feet in an instant. He stands beside me and helps me out of my chair. “Fuck that,” he says. “I’ll get you and your car home. Are you all right? You need some air?”
I giggle despite myself. “I’m actually amazing,” I tell him, realizing that my inhibitions are a little too far gone, thanks to the alcohol.
But damn it all, I’m going with it. “This has been the best dinner of my life,” I say.
“I’m having a great time. Too good, actually.
I want to check on Jax and use the ladies’ room.
Before I say or do anything that I’ll regret when the drinks wear off. ”
Phantom’s smile reaches from his beautiful lips to his midnight-blue eyes. “I’ll take you.”
He presses a hand against my lower back, and we stop at the kids’ table on the way.
“Baby,” I say, but then regret calling him that in front of the girls. “Jax, I mean, how is your dinner?”
“Amazing, Mom. Are we going already?” Jax’s cheeks are flushed, and the table is covered with comic books, coloring books and colored pencils, and the girls’ tablets.
I stroke Jax’s shoulder. “No, I’m only going to the ladies’ room. Just checking in on you all.”
“We’re good,” Daisy says. “Just waiting for dessert.”
Phantom kisses his daughter’s head and nods at Jax, before walking me toward the back of the restaurant.
“I’ll wait here,” he says.
I turn toward him, feeling warm and full, a little buzzed and happy. Without even thinking, I reach out and cup his cheek, letting my fingers stroke his beard. “You are amazing. Not like anyone I’ve ever met,” I murmur, fluttering my eyes closed and breathing in his warm scent. “What are you?”
He growls my name, a low and hungry sound. “Poppy…” He snakes a hand behind my hair and pulls me against him, his sweet breath soft against my cheeks. “I’m a man who hopes this isn’t our only date.”
I look up into his eyes, and my body goes liquid.
I want to lean against him, crash my body into his.
God, I want to taste him. I am about to kiss this man.
This man who’s a near stranger to me. It wouldn’t be the first kiss I’ve had since losing Michael, but close enough to it that I realize how stupid that would be of me.
I snap my head back and shake it lightly, willing myself to sober up. “I’d better go,” I say, backing away on wobbly legs.
I rush into the ladies’ room, take care of business, and then splash some cold water on my face.
I look in the mirror and smooth down my hair.
I’m okay, I tell myself. I haven’t done anything wrong or stupid.
No matter how attracted I am to him, no matter how complicated this feels, I’m not doing anything wrong.
I want more.
I don’t know what this means, but I’m hoping with all my heart and some very inappropriate parts of my body that Phantom meant what he said.