Chapter 26
Chapter 26
S ully and Poppy stood side by side staring at Sasha and George who stood side by side on the other side of the threshold. They were like mirror images of each other, except Sasha and George were beaming while Sully and Poppy remained speechless with shock. In those tense few seconds before anyone spoke, George’s eyes flicked quickly over Poppy, wincing with pain at the sight of her bump, before fastening accusingly on Sully.
You did this to her, he seemed to say.
Sully, who suddenly sensed he was about to enter the fight of his life, narrowed his eyes and sent a message of his own. That’s right I did, and I’d do it again so back off. Outwardly of course he smiled as he eased his left arm around Poppy’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze.
“Welcome to Texas, Sasha and George.”
“Yee-haw,” Sasha replied, already nosily glancing around him to spy the interior of his house.
“What am I doing?” Poppy asked, finally unfreezing her tongue. She sprang forward and hugged her friends, Sasha first and then George who lingered a bit too long in the hug for Sully’s taste. Sully stood very nearby, scowling his displeasure, in case anyone had doubts. Poppy let go of George and grabbed Sasha’s hand, dragging her inside.
“You haven’t officially met Sully. Sully, this is Sasha.”
Sasha was tall and willowy with the same dark hair and eyes as her brother. But unlike George, there was no hostility in her eyes. Her smile was warm, if frank and a bit sarcastic. She thrust forth her hand and gave him a hearty shake.
“The baby daddy, we meet at last,” she said. “I believe you know George.”
George and Sully exchanged heads up nods while Sully reassessed his opinion of Sasha. She wasn’t there to run interference for her brother or play matchmaker; she was there to cause trouble. If possible, Poppy now seemed like the temperate one in their relationship.
“The two of you together must have gotten into a heap of trouble,” he noted, glancing between them.
“If only,” Sasha bemoaned. “Believe it or not, this is our first time meeting face to face.”
“What? You didn’t tell me that,” Sully said, darting Poppy an accusing glance that made George snort in delight. “How is it possible? You said she’s one of your best friends.” See, George? I know things. Poppy and I talk.
“Pen pals,” Sasha volunteered. “Since the time we could both write. Poppy and I have a lot in common, our dads to begin with, but so much more.”
“And what do you do?” Sully asked. It occurred to him he should probably know. He refused to look at George and give him the satisfaction of realizing it was one more thing he and Poppy hadn’t discussed.
“I’m an assassin,” she said, so deadpan Sully didn’t know if she was joking. He thought she was, but given what Poppy’s dad did for a living, he couldn’t be certain.
“A corporate assassin,” George volunteered, sensing his confusion. “Sasha goes into troubled companies and takes care of all the dead weight.”
Sasha made a slitting motion across her throat, not bothered in the least by her brother’s dim assessment of her job.
“So,” George continued, clapping his hands and rubbing them together as if in gleeful anticipation. “What have you got planned for us, P? Some rotten adventure, I’ll bet.”
“Yes, I have this new game called, ‘Helping Poppy Survive Poverty.’ We’re all going to take a pie and wrap it in cellophane,” Poppy declared.
“Bring it,” Sasha said. Sully was willing to bet she had it tattooed somewhere. They headed toward the kitchen while Poppy gave them each a pie and instructions on how to wrap. Despite the heavy tension in the atmosphere, it was fun. Then again, there wasn’t much Poppy couldn’t make fun. Even so, she was practically dead on her feet by ten, and they still had more than two dozen pies left to go.
“Poppy, go to bed,” Sully said.
“When we’re finished,” she said, hiding a yawn in the crook of her elbow.
“I’m sorry, did you think that was somehow optional?” He came to stand beside her and turned her to face Sasha and George. “Say goodnight to the nice people. We’ll finish wrapping the pies, and I’ll get them settled. You’ll see them in the morning and the next few days after that.”
She wanted to argue, he could tell by the way she attempted to hold herself stiffly away from him. But she’d also been awake almost twenty four hours, and her body couldn’t take it anymore, not with a baby growing inside her. “I’m sorry,” she explained to Sasha and George. “I have no control anymore. It’s a misery.”
“Yeah, you’re suffering for certain,” Sasha said, her eyes sweeping approvingly over Sully from head to toe. “We’ll see you in the morning, chipmunk. Get some sleep.”
“I’m really sorry,” Poppy added to George who had been quiet and watchful all evening. Sully guessed they would need some time to clear the air between them, but it definitely wasn’t going to happen tonight.
“Get some sleep, woman,” he said, rolling his eyes with a smile that only looked half forced.
Sully put his arm around her and half-carried her up the stairs. Now that she realized she was headed to bed, she began to shut down. “I need to wash my face,” she protested when he bypassed the bathroom and ushered her to the bedroom.
“I’ll wash it for you.” He rifled in a drawer and tossed her one of his t-shirts. “Change and I’ll be right back.” He disappeared, loaded a washrag with some fancy soap his mom had purchased for him, and returned to the room. Poppy was just slipping between the sheets, his t-shirt still too large for her, even with the bump. The sight of her in it gave his stomach a jolt, as did the vision of her in his bed.
“This is your room,” she whispered as he sat on the edge of the bed and commenced scrubbing her face with the cloth.
“Yep,” he agreed.
“Are you planning to stay in here with me?” she asked, half-joking, half-concerned.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, smiling in anticipation of her comeback. When one failed to emerge, he pulled away the cloth and studied her face. She gave him the look again, the adoring one. He decided on the spot he wanted to see that look again, possibly for the rest of their lives. “Would you?” he whispered.
“I…” her glance slid to the door and she shook her head. “Probably better not. The town will flap its gums off.”
“I know,” he agreed, absently folding the washcloth to give his hands something to do. “That’s why George and I are going to stay with my mom.”
“George won’t like that,” she said, biting back a smile.
“Ask me if I care,” he said, and she burst into a giggle that made his heart drop to his toes and pitch back up.
“Hey, Sully,” she whispered.
“Hey, Poppy,” he whispered in return, smoothing her hair off her too-sleepy face.
“Thanks for tonight. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I’ve got your back,” he said.
“I’m starting to believe it.”
He gave her one more smile and turned toward the door, intending to stand. She clutched his shirt in her hand, pulled him close, and kissed him senseless until he broke off with a shaky gasp.
“As I said, thank you.” She tapped his cheek and smiled at his breathless discomposure.
“That was so much better than a card,” he said, causing her to laugh.
“You should go back to our guests. Sasha gets in trouble if left alone too long,” she warned.
“In a minute. I’m just going to…”
“To what?” she asked, her thumb sliding over his bottom lip.
“Sit here and stare while you fall asleep,” he said.
“Won’t take long,” she whispered, and it didn’t. Three blinks later, she was out. Sully eased to the door, turned off the light, and leaned against the wall in the hallway outside. What just happened? Was it his imagination, or did things with Poppy feel like they were finally on track? Then again, it had become their M/O to take one step forward and two steps back. He had stopped trying to convince himself they were anything more than they were—good friends drawn inexorably together by the baby they’d created.
He shook his head and pushed away his thoughts. There were two guests downstairs, friends of Poppy’s, currently wrapping her pies. It was up to him and him alone now to play host and make a good impression. And make good and certain George understands he’s here as a pal and nothing more.
When he reached the kitchen, George looked up at him and a current of understanding passed between them. Game on.