Chapter 17
Nick woke with Poppy in his arms. At some stage during the night, she’d rolled, and her injured wrist was now resting on his chest, her head using his shoulder as a pillow. Nick thought he could get used to being Poppy’s pillow. She was still out. Eyes shut, mouth open, hair everywhere.
Cute.
His body woke as he’d expect it to with a sexy woman pressed to his side, and the memory of his hands on her last night didn’t help.
But, much as he wanted to wake her with his mouth and hands, he knew she needed sleep to heal.
Plus, sleep meant she wasn’t thinking about her life and that asshole who’d sent her into hiding.
Poppy had avoided people to keep them safe. Her aunt was one of those, and that wasn’t right. It had to stop.
Anger burned inside him that Poppy thought Davy had given up tormenting her, but had just been watching her and waiting to strike again.
Nick felt something heavy settle in his chest watching her sleep. He did have a hero complex, and maybe this feeling was because she needed him. Or maybe it’s more.
He leaned closer and inhaled her hair. Soft and citrusy. As his body was enjoying this way too much, he kissed her nose softly and then eased his arm from beneath her.
Nick did several maneuvers to get off the bed quietly. Pulling up the covers to her chin, he then picked up the cat and left the room. It was early, this he knew, as Nick always woke with the sun. He’d usually be heading out for a run or to the gym, but right now, he had a call to make.
After turning on the coffee maker and feeding the cat, Nick showered and dressed. He stopped to listen at Poppy’s door, but there were no sounds coming from inside, so he headed back down the stairs.
Stepping out the back door into the cool morning air, he held his mug in one hand and called Billy from his cell phone with the other.
“I’m trying to sleep,” the groggy voice said down the phone.
“Can you believe this shit?” Nick said. “I mean who gets away with stalking someone for as long as Davy has Poppy.
“Plenty of people, now can I go back to sleep.”
“I’m worried about her, Billy.”
“I know, but, Nick, it’s not only her that concerns me. Davy may already know she’s staying with you. You need to watch your back.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“No one can dodge a bullet, bud.”
“I’ll be careful and watch over Poppy too.”
“I know you will because you care about her,” Billy said.
“As I would any friend,” Nick added.
“Sure, if you want to see it that way. Stay safe.” Billy ended the call.
Nick then took a walk around his yard while he drank his coffee. He usually felt peace here, but not this morning. Worry for Poppy gnawed at his gut. It hadn’t eased when he finally headed back to the house.
To keep her safe, he had to keep her close or have his family watch her when he was working. Nick just knew she’d love that idea about as much as a dose of the flu.
“Hey.”
She was standing in the doorway when he returned. Hair tousled, eyes sleepy, she’d pulled on a long cardigan over her pj’s.
“Hey. How are you feeling this morning?”
She retreated the nearer he got, backing into the house and putting distance between them. Nick saw the walls that he’d broken through last night were once again in place.
She wasn’t like him. Used to touching and being hugged. Used to being cared for. It would take time to make her accept that from him. Do I want her to accept it?
Yes.
“I’m good, thank you. Ready to head home and clean up the mess.” Her smile was forced.
“You can’t go back there yet, Poppy. It’s not safe.”
“I’ll go to a hotel.”
“Are we going to run through this entire argument again?” He walked around her and got down another mug. “Sit. You still look tired and pale.” He poured her a coffee.
“I’m okay, and I need to go to a hotel, Nick.” She sat, and Hercules leaped into her lap.
“Why? I have the room, and you’re safe here. You’re staying.”
Her chin rose. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Patience, Nick. She wasn’t used to having him throw orders at her like his family. Not that they listened, but with so many of them, it was often the easiest way to get things done.
He placed the coffee in front of her, then went to get out the fixings for breakfast.
“I’m worried about you being alone, Poppy.”
“I can look after myself.”
“Stop running, Poppy. You can’t do this alone anymore, and especially not now with that wrist.”
“Nick—”
He faced her. She was cuddling the cat, eyes wary.
“I understand pride, and that you’ve handled this alone for years. I even understand independence and the need for control. But you are not thinking about this rationally.”
“I’m entirely rational!”
He moved to stand before her. Bracing his hands on the table, he leaned closer, locking eyes with hers.
“You don’t want my help because you don’t trust me or want to put your trust in me,” he amended.
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t want your help because you have too many people in your life who could be hurt, including you, Nick.”
“I told you last night that he probably already knows we’re connected. First, I was at the hospital, then your house.”
“Well, we have to put distance between us, so he disconnects you.” Her voice had risen. “We can’t be seen together anymore.”
“Not happening.”
“This is my life. You have no say in it! I can go into hibernation somewhere.” She was talking fast now, words tumbling out of her mouth. “Yes. Maybe I’ll go to England, or… or France. Maybe New Zealand.”
“And what happens when he finds you again, which he will?” Nick said. “You can’t keep running. Besides, this time I’m not letting you.” He moved closer. Lifting the cat out of her arms, he lowered the pissed-off feline to the floor.
“What are you doing? Put me down, Nick.”
“I thought we’d turned a corner last night.” He sat with her on his lap. “When I kissed you and touched your perfect?—”
“Stop,” she whispered. “You know this is dangerous, Nick. If he’s not caught, then I need to?—”
“You are not running again. We’re dealing with this.”
She tried to get away. Nick tightened his grip.
“You’re not alone anymore, Poppy.”
“I don’t know how to handle this any other way,” she whispered.
“Hello!” A woman’s voice reached them.
“You have to be kidding me,” Nick muttered. He then placed a soft kiss on Poppy’s lips before he lifted her off his lap. “Brace yourself, Tinker Bell, we have company.”
“Anyone home?” The voice got louder. “Nicky, it’s your mom and dad.”
“Oh my God!” Poppy looked down at her pj’s. “I can’t meet your parents now… ever,” she added.
“In here, Mom,” Nick said, resigned. “Don’t try to run. You think I’m tenacious? You’re about to meet the person the word was created for.”
The doorway was suddenly filled with people. He saw his parents and Gracie. They were carrying to-go coffees and a large box that Nick knew would be filled with baking.
Clearly, Billy had been on the phone.
“There is no way you could have baked that since I spoke to Billy, Mom.”
Bernice Louise Atherton was a force of nature. Tall, willowy, with thick gray curls, she wore a ball cap, the habitual tracksuit, and a wide smile. She’d raised her brood with a firm hand and lots of love.
They’d nearly lost her, but after a double mastectomy and plenty of treatment, she was still with them. She was a fighter, and the hours he’d sat at her bedside had been some of the best and worst of Nick’s life.
“Well now, we thought you needed something to cheer you up, so I baked some cupcakes.” His mother’s smile was wide. “When our eldest child needs us, we’re there. Isn’t that right, Gerry?”
“Exactly right, Bernie.”
Gerry Leonard Atherton was a bear of a man in stature and personality and had the fashion sense of a five-year-old at a dress-up party. He laughed a lot and could put the fear of God into his kids with just a look. His father was the first man Nick had respected, and that had never changed.
He’d rebelled like most teenagers, but Nick had always known that he had these two people in his corner, and for a hormone-fueled boy, that had been needed. He also knew how lucky he was to have the family he did.
“And what the hell are you doing here, Gracie?”
“I have the day off and wanted to visit my big brother.” He didn’t buy that. She wanted to meet Poppy because Em had.
Poppy was frozen in place to his right. Nick placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.
“These are my parents, Gerry and Bernice, and my sister Gracie. None of them understand personal boundaries or a need for privacy. Family, this is Poppy Sylvester.”
“All true,” his dad said, lowering the tray of coffees to the table. He then moved to hug Poppy. “Hey there, sweetheart, I understand you’re having a rough time of things at the moment.”
The sob came out of nowhere, and then Poppy was crying all over the front of his dad’s highlighter-orange sweater.