CHAPTER FOUR
Cord
The supply rep came two days later, right on schedule.
His name was Danny. He drove a company truck and had the kind of easy, practiced smile that told you he knew exactly what he was doing with it. He came through twice a season. I would thank you, sign his paperwork and never give him another thought until he pulled in for another delivery.
That was before Poppy.
I heard her laugh first. That full, unguarded laugh she had—the kind that made people stop what they were doing and look.
I came around the side of the greenhouse and there they were.
Danny leaning against the hood of his truck with his arms crossed, smile going full wattage.
Poppy standing across from him with her head tilted back, dark hair catching the morning light, laughing at something he’d said like it was the funniest thing she’d heard all week.
She was wearing a green flannel shirt that was obviously new and those damn leggings. There was a smear of soil on her forearm. She looked like she belonged here. She looked like she’d always belonged here.
I’d spent ten years on this mountain alone, building a life that didn’t have room for a woman who I knew would taste like sunshine and smelled like jasmine. I was supposed to be the man who didn’t need anyone, yet here I was, my pulse hammering in my throat just because she was breathing my air.
I’d known her for a week, and I was already losing my damn mind.
It wasn’t just her smile. It was that freaking gorgeous body and the way she interacted with everyone.
She wasn’t some rail-thin city girl. She was all lush, heavy curves—the kind of woman made for a man to disappear in.
Every move she made was a slow, rhythmic pull on my sanity.
She knew everyone by name, and most of their history by now. I’d seen her asking questions about how things worked, pitching in at the end of the day to make sure everyone got home on time. And the people who worked for me? Everyone loved Poppy.
Everyone.
Again, that twinge in my chest I didn’t know what to do with.
My attention turned back to my current dilemma. Danny was looking at her the way a man looks at something he’s thinking about reaching for. He was staring at the way that flannel strained against the swell of her breasts, and I felt a primitive, violent urge to roar.
Every muscle in my body went tight and still, the way they did right before something went very wrong.
I was across the yard before I thought about what I was doing.
I didn’t say anything when I got there. I didn’t have to. I stepped up beside Poppy, close enough that Danny’s smile flickered—just a fraction, just enough—and I looked at him with the particular expression that had been clearing people off my mountain for years.
He straightened up off the hood. “Cord. Good timing, I was just about to come find you for the paperwork.”
“Good thing I saw you, then.” My voice was a low frequency warning. He gave me a weak smile and handed me a clipboard. I signed it and handed it back without breaking eye contact.
“Alright. I guess I’ll see you next trip, then.” He gave Poppy a sideways glance but didn’t smile. Smart man. I stood there, arms crossed and watched as he got into his truck and drove away.
Poppy watched him go, then turned and looked at me.
“That was rude,” she said pleasantly.
“He’s here to deliver supplies, not chat up my staff.
” I’d been running from this since the sorting shed.
Truth was, I’d been fighting it since the day she’d pulled onto my property and stood there with her chin up and called me a brooding mountain man like it was a dare to prove her wrong.
Most women left me alone. She’d walked straight into the thick of me and started poking around.
She tilted her head, reading me the way she always did—fast and direct, nothing getting past her. “He was being friendly.”
“He was flirting.”
Poppy gave me a brilliant smile. “Yes, I believe he was.”
I wanted to put her over my shoulder and carry somewhere where no man would ever see that smile. I wanted that smile to be for me alone.
My jaw tightened. Did she want other men to flirt with her? Did she have any idea what it did to me, seeing another man notice the way her hips swayed?
I grunted.
She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, waiting.
“Don’t get fooled by the smile and the company truck, Poppy. Men like that are charming because it works. Not because there’s anything behind it.”
She went quiet, those dark eyes steady on my face. Then the corner of her mouth moved.
“So I shouldn’t let a man’s attitude fool me?” she asked. “Good advice. I’ll keep that in mind. Because by that logic, I probably shouldn’t think you’re a broody mountain man either. I should think there’s something else behind all that glowering.”
“You’ve been pushing me since the second you stepped out of your car.”
“Pushing you how?”
“You called me a brooding mountain man.”
“Well, if the beard fits.”
I’d had enough. I reached out and caught her hand, dragging her behind me as I rounded the side of the green house. I pushed her up against it, bracing one hand near her head, surrounding her.
She didn’t push me away. She didn’t tell me to back up. She stood her ground the way she always did, her body a silent challenge. Those dark eyes saw more than they should have, more than I wanted them to.
I leaned down, my face close to hers. “You know what almost happened in the shed, don’t you?”
She nodded. Her lips parted, just enough to show the tip of her tongue. She wasn’t scared. Poppy was never scared. But she was very still, waiting.
“I’ve been trying to be a decent man about it.”
Another nod.
I brought my hand up and cupped her jaw, my thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone, and felt the breath stutter out of her. Then I kissed her because I couldn’t wait another heartbeat to feel her lips against mine.
I crashed my mouth against hers, rough and hungry, pouring every ounce of frustration and possessiveness I’d been feeling into the kiss.
She tasted sweeter than I’d imagined. And I’d imagined kissing her every night since she’d arrived.
I groaned into her mouth, my tongue tangling with hers as I deepened the kiss, my hand sliding down to her wide, soft bottom to haul her up against the rock-hard length of my cock.
I wanted her to feel how much she wrecked me. I wanted her to know that my dick was straining against my fly just from the scent of her. I wanted to mark her, let everyone around know she was mine.
Especially damn deliver men who thought a smile would win her over.
She didn’t fight me. Her arms wound around my neck, her fingers pulling my hair as she arched her back, pressing her ample, breathtaking body into mine.
I could feel her nipples peaking under the fabric, rubbing against my chest with every ragged breath.
She was making small, desperate sounds against my lips, and it was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard.
When I pulled back, her lips were swollen, her eyes dark and heavy, her fists still twisted in the fabric of my shirt.
The morning light fell across her face and she looked undone, vulnerable and fierce all at once.
I wanted to slide my hands down those leggings and touch her.
I wanted to see if she was as wet for me as I hoped.
“Okay,” she said, a little breathless. “There’s definitely something behind that broody glare.”
That made me laugh. A sound I hadn’t heard myself make in a very long time. I’d just kissed a woman senseless, and she was making me laugh.
But that was Poppy.
Something shifted in my chest—loose and warm. I wanted to claim her, to protect her, to keep her in my bed and never let the world touch her.
I made myself step back. Not because I didn’t want to kiss her again, but because I sure as hell did.
She stood there, leaning against the greenhouse as if her legs wouldn’t quite support her.
“What now, Cord?”
“Now we get back to work.” I turned and walked away, my cock still throbbing, my head spinning with the realization that I wanted her. Above all else, I wanted her to be mine.
Mine.
The word settled in me quiet and certain, the way all the things I was sure of settled.
Outside, the sky had taken on that particular weight at the edge of the peaks—the pressure that meant weather was coming. Fast-moving, the kind that didn’t announce itself.
Just like Poppy. She’d arrived without warning.
I’d weathered more storms than I cared to count, but her… she was something else entirely.