Chapter 23
Chapter 23
P oppy was mid-conversation with a rancher’s wife when Sully opened the door of Huck’s and made a beeline for her. As much as she tried to keep her focus on the woman in front of her, it was diverted to him when he steamrolled up to her, bypassed the counter, and clasped her hand, tugging her alongside him toward the exit.
“I’m with a customer,” Poppy said, trying futilely to resist his leading.
“Excuse us, Mrs. Marsh. She’ll be back in a minute,” Sully said, relentlessly leading Poppy out the door and around the corner.
“I’m going to have to have my name engraved on this wall space,” Poppy said, leaning there now.
“Don’t joke right now, Poppy,” Sully said, his tone angry and dangerous.
“What is your problem?” she asked.
“You went out with Diego Cortez,” he said. He had been at his morning briefing when the picture of her came up, startling him so badly that he jolted forward and nearly upended his coffee. If they hadn’t had a tail on Cortez, he might never have known until it was too late.
She blinked at him. “Right, and? You knew that. I told you I had a date.”
“You said you had terrible taste in men, and I thought it was hyperbole, but it wasn’t. You literally walk into a room and find the lowest specimen humanity can offer,” he said.
She blinked at him, hurt. “I didn’t deserve that.”
He blew out a breath and reminded himself she had no idea. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t get my job, but I am not the kind of cop who sits in my car all day and hands out tickets to old ladies going five miles over the limit. I’m an investigator, the sort who handles big cases, the biggest cases in the state, really. Diego Cortez is part of my work. He’s a bad man.”
Her face looked like she tried not to smile. “Are we talking about the same Diego? A man who held every door for me and kissed my hand goodnight?”
He put his hands on her biceps, resisting the powerful urge to shake some sense into her. “It doesn’t matter, none of that matters. What matters is who he is, and he is a bad man, the worst sort of man. His family has been an organized crime syndicate for generations, involved in racketeering, witness tampering, kidnapping, theft, drug running, money laundering, and murder.”
She swallowed hard. “Murder?”
“Yes, Poppy, murder. I have reason to believe, good reason, that Diego has personally done a few to earn his street cred. He’s the head of the family now. You don’t get there merely by nepotism. He had to earn his spot. He purposely targeted you because of me.”
“Oh,” she said, her face going slightly pale.
She looked exactly like someone whose innocence had just been shattered, and Sully felt immediate regret that he’d been the one to do it.
“He seemed so kind, so gentle, so intelligent and cultured,” she said.
“He is intelligent and cultured. That’s what makes him lethal. He’d be a whole lot easier to catch if he were ignorant and stupid.”
“So he doesn’t actually like me. It was all for pretend.”
On the one hand, he couldn’t believe that was her primary concern at the moment. Did she not understand how much danger she had been in, might still be in? On the other hand, she was pregnant and vulnerable and a man she liked had used her. “If it’s any consolation, I like you, and it’s not for pretend.” His arms slid around her and drew her closer. Her bump pressed against him, and he swallowed hard, a wave of desire hitting him like a fist to the gut.
“It’s fine,” she said, forcing a smile. “We had one little date, not some epic romance. It’s not like I’m carrying his child or anything.”
“No, not his,” he agreed. Her face tipped up to his, trying to smile to cover the hurt. His knuckles brushed her cheek, and then he kissed her, fear and relief and attraction all mingling together into some powerful force that erased any reserve from the kiss. Poppy responded as if she’d been waiting for it, standing on her toes and slipping her fingers into his hair to urge him closer. He picked her up, bringing her within easier reach of his face, pressed her to the wall, and kissed her again. She kissed him back, hungrily, as if she had been starving for his touch. A horn beeped, and they broke apart, breathless, startled to realize they were still in an alley in the middle of the afternoon.
“What was that?” Poppy asked, her voice whispy and unsteady.
“I don’t know, I just…Marry me, Poppy.” She opened her mouth to reply, and he pressed his thumb to her lips. “I want you in my life, in my house, in my bed. Let’s put aside everything else and be together.”
She kissed his thumb. He smoothed it gently over her swollen lips and moved it aside, allowing her to answer. “No.”
“Why?”
“Asking me out of a knee jerk reaction because you’re jealous and afraid is no way to start a marriage,” she said.
“You know that’s not the only reason, and it’s not as if I haven’t asked before when I was both reasonable and rational,” he said.
“That’s true, but that time was too reasonable and rational. This time was too emotional and reactionary. There has to be a balance, Sullivan.”
He ran a hand wearily over his face. “I don’t understand what you want from me.”
“It’s not what I want from you, it’s what I want for you, and for myself as well. I want magic for both of us. Sully, we have something here, some attraction and some friendship, but is that enough to sustain a lifetime of togetherness? I don’t want either of us to wake up five years from now and realize we’re together only for the sake of the baby. I want us to feel like, regardless of our child, we would want to be together. Can you honestly say you’d want to spend your life with me if I weren’t pregnant with your baby?”
He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t form.
“Exactly,” she replied, but her tone was more sad than triumphant. “I really need to get back inside.” Despite her words, she stood on her toes and kissed him again, gently and sweetly this time. “If life were only about kisses, I’d marry you in a minute, Sully, because I think I could kiss you every day of forever and never lose heart.”
He pressed his face to her neck and inhaled. “Poppy.”
“I bet I’m making you crazy, huh?” she asked, her tone sympathetic as she ran a hand soothingly over his head.
He nodded and clutched her closer, her bump nudging his abdomen.
“I’m not trying to,” she said.
“I know,” he said. He forced a deep breath. “You need to tell me if Diego contacts you again.”
“What should I tell him if he asks me out again?” she asked.
“Tell him you have a crazy jealous partner who will literally lose his mind if you so much as talk to him again,” Sully said.
“Is that really what you want me to say?” she murmured as his lips began absently kissing her neck.
“No.” He stood upright away from her. “Tell him it’s not going to work out, something innocuous and gentle. You don’t want to provoke him.”
“Okay.” She pressed her palm to his cheek. “Are you doing okay?”
He nodded. “But, Poppy, I don’t think I can stand the thought of you with another man right now. It’s too much.” His hand settled possessively on her bump.
“It was probably too much to hope that I could date someone else while pregnant with your child. The good news is my prospects in that regard are pretty dim, minus the psycho who was only interested in me to get to you.”
“That’s not the only reason he was interested in you. It was an added bonus. He was interested in you because you’re beautiful and sweet and charming and pregnancy has somehow made you insanely more appealing.”
“Only to you, I think,” she said.
“Maybe so, but isn’t that enough?” he asked.
She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I don’t actually enjoy the thought of you dating anyone else right now either.”
“I just asked you to marry me, and you think I’m going to go trolling for another woman?” he asked.
She shrugged. “You can’t remain a monk forever.”
“That’s not on my radar. Not now, not any time in the near future. I’m solely focused on you and the baby.”
“You’re a good man, Sully Langford, and I’m lucky to have you in my life. You’re going to be an amazing father.” Despite her insistence that she needed to get back inside, she hugged him, resting her head over his heart.
He slid his arms around her and rubbed a gentle little circle in the center of her back. “I know neither of us chose this path on purpose, Poppy. But if I had to do it with anyone, I’m glad it’s with you.” He kissed the top of her head.
“That feels so good,” Poppy said, leaning into his touch. “My back hurts all the time.”
The words made Sully feel guilty on a number of levels, first because he was the one who had done this to her, and second because Bailey had told him Poppy’s back must be hurting, had told him how much physical touch meant to her. He had held off touching her because he hadn’t wanted to push their relationship somewhere it wasn’t ready to go. But Poppy needed him, now more than ever.
“Tonight, after work, I will rub your back for as long as you want, okay?” he said.
She made a little sound, somewhere between a grunt and a sigh.
“I should get back,” he said, but he made no move to go. The feel of her against him was doing confusing things to his senses. His hand still made a little circle at the base of her spine. With each pass, Poppy melted into him a little bit more. His heart began to thud painfully as his breathing became shallower. How could he possibly let go of her and walk away? Not just today, but ever?
“Hey, y’all, I’m sorry to bother you, but Poppy’s getting quite a line.” Mrs. Baker stood at the end of the alley, watching them with a wry smile. Sully had no idea what the town said about them, but he could imagine what they’d say now after Mrs. Baker got done relaying their canoodling session.
“Thank you,” Poppy said, easing away from him without making eye contact. She still held his hand, and she gave it a squeeze. “I’ll see you, Sully.”
“Supper tonight,” he said, holding on to her hand as she took a step away.
For a moment he thought she might refuse, might try to run away from whatever was now brewing between them, but she nodded instead. “Supper tonight.” She pivoted back to him, stood on her toes, and kissed his cheek, pausing to whisper in his ear. “You have magic fingers.”
He laughed. “Clearly,” he said, motioning to her burgeoning belly.
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Oh, my, Sullivan Langford.”
“You think I need to go back to Sunday School?” he asked.
“Clearly,” she said, motioning to her bump again. He laughed again, the last vestiges of attraction clearing away.
“I’ll see you tonight. Try to stay out of trouble in the interim.”
“No promises,” Poppy said, tossing him a little wave as she disappeared from view.