Chapter 22
She was definitely ignoring him.
How was he supposed to grovel if she wasn’t in the same room with him?
He could always go the Say Anything route but that seemed a little too cheesy for her.
Then there was the Strictly Ballroom slide, where he slid into the room on one knee and asked her to dance.
That was a good one except for his bum knee, and the fact that she might think he was proposing.
Huh. He used the word proposing and didn’t break out in a panic attack. Strange.
So Miles’s way it was. But instead of flowers he put together a bouquet of wrenches and ratchets. It was a risk, but she loved a good ratchet.
He walked the entire house and found her in the kitchen with Kiki laying tile, which was a one-person job. It seemed wherever she went she made sure to have a buffer there.
Even though the tiles were all laid out in a pattern on the counter, Kiki would hand her a tile and Poppy would apply it to the tile cement.
Decker walked into the kitchen and caught Kiki’s eye. Hers narrowed into two threatening lasers. He felt his balls shrivel up and hide. Damn, for five-foot-two that woman was scary as shit.
Kiki gave him the Hurt her and I’ll cut your dick off look and then handed him the next tile.
“Thank you,” he mouthed.
“Fuck you,” she mouthed back, and he guessed he deserved it. But she left the room. He set down the bouquet and picked up the next tile.
Poppy was so focused on her task she didn’t notice the changing of the guard. It took ten minutes for her to realize it was him handing her tiles.
“What are you doing?” she asked cooly.
Scratch that: She knew he was there all along. She’d just been ignoring him.
“Trying to get five minutes of your time.”
She refused to meet his gaze. “I’m busy.”
“You’ve been playing with that same piece of tile for over three minutes.”
“Maybe because someone came in and broke my focus.” She finally looked at him. “Plus, it doesn’t matter. I’m mad at you.”
“I know.” He took the tile from her hand and grabbed a roll of painter’s tape. “Come with me.”
He gently led her to the Diary Room and closed the door. Placing tape over the camera lens, he unplugged the microphone.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I don’t want this recorded.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “What? What is so important?” She wasn’t just hurt he realized, she was mad as hell.
“You’ve been avoiding me all day and I have something to say to you.”
“I’ve been avoiding you on purpose.”
He smiled. “I could tell.”
“Fine, you have thirty seconds. Go.”
“Thirty seconds?” There was no way he could get through all those steps in thirty seconds, so he decided to jump right in. He held out the tool bouquet and suddenly regretted not listening to Miles. Maybe flowers were the right way to go. Too late now. “These are for you.”
The tiniest of smiles twitched her lips. But she didn’t take it, instead saying, “Tick tock.”
Right. Skip to the good stuff. “This morning was a shit show. When you walked in that kitchen looking all flushed from your shower and wearing those overalls, all I could think of was kissing you.”
“Then why did you sling your arm over me like I was your bro?” she asked, and shit, Miles was right. Her voice was so small and hurt he felt like just another asshole in her life.
“I was an idiot. Because this is the first thing I should have done.”
Setting the bouquet down he cupped her cheeks and gave her a breath-robbing kiss. And, hot damn, she kissed him back. It took her a moment to join the party, but when she did it was like magic.
“What’s the second thing?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“I explain where I fucked up,” he said, taking responsibility for his ridiculous plan. “I went downstairs to make you breakfast in bed, but everyone was already up and asked for my help bringing in the island. We’d just finished when you came down.”
“I don’t care about breakfast. Why did you ignore me?” She whispered the last part and that made his chest pinch painfully.
He ran his thumb down her jaw. “Because I know what it’s like to have your sex life spread all over the place, and I didn’t want to embarrass you.”
She turned her head, breaking contact. “Well, you did.”
“I know. It took me a minute to realize that. Shit.”
“What?”
“I should have gone for flowers over this stupid tool bouquet.”
“Flowers?
“Miles told me to bring flowers.”
She smirked. “You’re taking dating advice from a teenager?”
“Emotional maturity doesn’t have an age.” He ran a hand over his face. “God, I sound like an idiot.”
“You acted like an idiot, but you aren’t one. Maybe misguided and a little slow on the uptake. But you aren’t an idiot. I have a habit of assuming the worst.”
“That seems to be a problem of yours when it comes to me.”
“I’ll work on it.”
“Maybe we both need to get in touch with our emotional maturity.”
“I like that.” She smiled shyly. Then—not so shyly—grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him in for a drugging kiss that made him feel like he was floating. “If you want, you can help me lay tile. I need a good teammate.”
Hell yeah, he’d be her teammate. He knew jack shit about laying tile, he was more of a finisher who came in and made everything sing, but he’d get his hands dirty if it meant spending time with her.
“Come on.”
They opened the door to find Diana and Jack behind the camera, with Roger holding one of those satellite-looking microphones up to the door.
“What the hell?” Decker said, putting his hand over the camera. “This is private.”
“You’re on a reality show, man. Nothing is private,” Jack said.
Decker looked at Poppy, who was horrified and beet red. “You do not have permission to use that.”
“Come on, that was cinematic gold!” Jack said.
“No, you may not use it. It’s personal. The whole thing is personal.”
“That’s the point. You want America to like you? That’s likable. Really shows you’re a stand-up guy and not some sex tape star.”
“This isn’t about my image,” Decker said.
“That’s news to me,” Jack said with a shit-eating grin that Decker wanted to punch off his face.
“Me, too,” Poppy said. She was looking up at him with a small smile.
“What’s it about then?” Jack asked.
“Making this show the best rehab show on television and treating it with the same respect we treat the house. Understood?”