Chapter 5 #2
It's especially worrying after Renee handed in her resignation today, advising me that she won’t be returning to work.
I’ve instructed a couple of the nanny agencies to send me a list of suitable candidates who can start in the new year.
We close the bar early on Christmas Eve and don’t re-open until the second of January.
I know we miss the New Year’s Eve income, but Lucinda and I always thought it was important for the staff to spend that time with their families, so ever since the first year we opened, the bar has been shut, and I pay them for the holiday week as their Christmas bonus.
The longer I stare at the photo of Nash and Kade, the more I surprise myself by wishing Poppy was in the photo as well.
She may have called me a “Bah Humbug” when I grumbled about all the house decorations that first night as I came home, but I can’t stop thinking about how cute she looked in her gingerbread onesie this afternoon.
She is igniting my sex drive to a level I had forgotten, but she also has this hidden sweetness that my boys seem to bring out of her.
It’s like there are two Poppys inside her.
Weirdly, the Poppy I’ve encountered is someone I always look forward to returning home to each night. But I can’t have that. Because her vacation will be ending shortly, and she’ll no longer be part of my world, except for an occasional visit to see her mom.
I quickly count the takings and add them into the safe, and then secure my office before heading out to where the staff are also finishing up.
Although tonight wasn’t as busy as the weekend, it was still chaotic.
The closer we get to the big day the man in the red suit stumbles drunkenly down the chimney, the crazier the nights will get in here.
“Great job tonight, everyone. Now let’s get out of here and get some sleep so we can come back and do it all again tomorrow.” I follow my staff as they head out the back door to where John is waiting to set the alarm system.
“How much sleep is happening in your house?” Charlene elbows me as we walk to our cars in the parking lot.
“Not a lot, but that’s nothing new. How about you?” I try to sound nonchalant as I throw her question back at her.
“Why is that? Is the new nanny keeping you up at night?” She raises her eyebrows at me.
“Charlene,” I growl in warning.
“What? We both know that a one-night thing is totally okay. You aren’t looking to replace Lucinda, I get it, but you also deserve some fun too.
” She leans against her car before continuing, “Time is a-ticking, Landon. When the clock strikes Christmas, you might miss your opportunity, and she will disappear back to where she came from, leaving your cock hard and standing tall enough to hang decorations off, while your balls may as well explode from being so full.”
“Fuck off,” I grunt back at her. “I’m not talking to you about my cock. Seriously, when did we cross that line?” I lean around her, trying to open her car door for her, then pushing her to the side so I can get it fully open.
“The time you finally broke down and spent the night on my couch. You were the drunkest I’ve ever seen you and told me things about your sex life I did not want to hear. So this is payback, buddy.” She chuckles to herself as she slides into the front seat, and I slam the door after her.
“Ughhh, when are you going to forget about that night?” I can’t help feeling embarrassed because I know I won’t be forgetting it for a very long time to come.
It was the worst hangover I’ve ever had, and I was just thankful my in-laws were staying with the boys so I could sober up and get my sorry ass together before I went home.
“Never.” She winds down the window and laughs at me.
“And don’t think I didn’t notice you avoiding my question about the little fuck-buddy you have tucked up at home waiting for you. When are you going to let him loose?” I ask, pulling my coat tighter around me as a cold shiver runs through my body.
“When I get bored of him, but right now, I appreciate the warm bed at midnight and the benefits that go with a naked body that is ready and raring to go under the covers.” She smiles and salutes me.
“You should try it sometime. Night, boss.” The window slides up as she pulls out of her parking spot and drives away before I have a chance to think of a reply.
Charlene lives her life free of constraints, and I admire her for it.
But I can’t help hating her for putting thoughts of coming home to a naked Poppy in my head.
I pull out of the parking lot as a light flutter of snow starts to fall, and I know it means a slower trip home than I was hoping for, but maybe that’s a good thing.
I don’t want visions of a naked Poppy still in my head when I walk into the house.
Because I’m too scared to even think what tonight’s pajamas will look like.
I’m fifteen minutes later than usual when I finally walk into my house.
Trying to be as quiet as possible, I place my keys and phone down on the kitchen counter and walk into the living room.
The woman who is fast asleep, with her mouth open and in total disarray, is not who I was expecting. But I think I have my sons to blame.
Poppy’s gingerbread onesie is covered in streaks of different-colored icing, she has powdered sugar in her hair and on her face, and she has a smudge on her right cheek that looks like some sort of chocolate has run down to the corner of her mouth.
The living room floor is scattered with toys, a few books, and two empty glasses that seem to have the remains of chocolate milk pooling at the bottom.
I don’t want to knock Poppy for the mess, but I feel a little better knowing she’s not as perfect as she seems when it comes to controlling my two little ferals.
I sit down on the coffee table in front of her while she sleeps and then notice her phone on the floor. As I pick it up and place it down on the table next to me, I accidentally bump the home screen and the phone lights up with the last message she received.
Autumn: I don’t care what you say, we are going to Lucinda’s. It’s your 30th birthday, ffs woman!
With everything that has happened since that first night, I had forgotten that Poppy’s thirtieth birthday is two days before Christmas.
I wonder whether Mrs. B could have the boys that night, because I already feel like shit for taking over Poppy’s vacation.
I’ll be damned if I make her miss her own birthday too.
She lets out a little sigh and then turns on her side to face me, pulling the blanket up under her chin and settling back into her deep sleep.
I don’t want to wake her, but she needs to get home so she can sleep in her own bed.
But I’m stuck sitting here, mesmerized by that damn smudge of chocolate that I just want to bend down and lick off her mouth.
Just then her phone starts vibrating next to me on the table, and the noise of it against the wood has Poppy reaching out for it, without opening her eyes.
But instead of her phone, she touches my leg with her first hit, and before she reaches any higher up my thigh, I grab her hand to stop her.
Which of course scares the hell out of her, and the moment she opens her mouth, I know she’s about to scream.
I lunge forward and slap my hand over her mouth to muffle the noise before she wakes the boys, and Mrs. B calls the police because she thinks her daughter is getting murdered.
Poppy’s eyes are now wide open, and she thrashes her arms and legs against the would-be attacker she is imagining me to be.
“Poppy, it’s just me. Shh, you’re safe. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” I’m on my knees next to the couch, leaning over her with my face not far from hers. I watch the fear start to drain when she recognizes me and remembers where she is.
The fight falls from her body, and I slowly slide my hand to the side of her face. My fingers linger a little too long over her soft and plump lips, and I hear her breath hitch.
The temptation in front of me is overwhelming.
Just one taste.
Can I take just one sweet taste?
Edging ever so close to her now, I can feel her breath tingling on my lips.
“I shouldn’t do this,” I murmur.
“Landon.” She whispers my name ever so delicately, like this moment might break if she says it any louder.
“Tell me no.” My conscience is pleading for her to stop this for me.
“I can’t, because neither of us want that.” She’s right.
“I just want you… just one night,” I mutter, almost begging.
“No strings, nothing changes.” Poppy whimpers as I drag my tongue over her lips, and the fire instantly rages between us.
“Nothing changes,” I repeat, and she reaches up to slide her hand into my hair, and the gentleness of the moment is gone in a split second, with one pull on my head.
Our lips collide, and I can’t think of anything else. Life doesn’t exist outside this kiss.
And I know that nothing will ever be the same again.
A rush of desire and pent-up sexual frustration pours from me.
My hand is now on the back of her neck, pulling her tighter to me as I move my lips in sync with hers.
But I want more of these lips that taste so sweet, and my tongue pushes hard at her mouth, demanding she let me in.
I don’t know how much time I can have her like this, so I greedily want it all.
A moan rushes from her mouth the moment she opens for me, and she tightens her grasp on my hair to anchor herself.
I swallow every sound she gives me as I devour her.
This is not a sweet romantic kiss. I ravage her mouth, swiping my tongue, and then bite down on her bottom lip, before we both gasp for air.
Pulling back slightly, I look down at Poppy, and my brain reminds me this is not real. I can’t allow myself to feel anything for her. My wife is gone, but that doesn’t mean I can let myself open my heart again.