25. Poppy
Poppy
T he dark skies and echoing thunder outside are fitting for my mood. It’s as if I conjured the storm through sheer stubborn indignation.
At each turn, my plans have been thrown to the wayside by our chipper showrunner.
I have barely had the chance to talk about my bakery, my upbringing, and my motivations.
And the only reason I have spoken about it at all is because Hayden went off script.
While I have enjoyed the turn of events that put him by my side for this, I am decidedly not okay with the most recent twist she wants to introduce.
Everyone is together, ready to start as soon as Trevor gives us the signal. I steal a sideways glance at Hayden, amazed by how calm he appears. After all, it’s his painful past they are wanting to drag up for entertainment value.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
“No. I want to smash a pie on Tara’s face.”
A deep laugh escapes him, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I think that would make for good TV.”
“Alright, we’re on in five, four—” Trevor starts, getting cut off by a high-pitched alarm.
“What is that?” I look to Hayden frantically because the sound is coming from him.
“My dispatch alert for the rescue team,” he tells me, withdrawing his phone and answering. I hear the words mayday and capsize before the pit in my stomach bottoms out and I stop trying to listen.
“Pick me up at the wharf, bring my kit,” he’s telling someone on the phone. Hanging up he turns to me and explains, “A group of teens went out thinking the clouds would pass, and they’re stuck out there capsized. I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“Of course,” I say quickly, allowing him to take my hand to lead me through the bakery to the front door. I can already hear the sound of a helicopter approaching. Everything is happening at a dizzying rate, and my heart is pounding frantically.
“I’ll call you after,” Hayden assures me, looking down the wharf.
I press my hands against his chest, as if my body is refusing to let him leave like this. “Hayden, please be careful.”
Pulling me in and planting a kiss at the corner of my lips, he says, “I promise I’ll be back, baby.” And then in an instant, he disappears into the storm.
Heat surges through me from the kiss and the sound of baby on his lips. I shouldn’t feel this feral over a simple slip of the tongue. And yet the next thing I know, I’m stepping out onto the wharf as well.
Sideways rain pelts me as I watch a rope with something like a harness drop from the helicopter, and then Hayden slides it on and is lifted in the air.
They are far over the angry sea, nearly out of sight, by the time the rope, with Hayden attached, is pulled into the aircraft. That didn’t look careful to me.
The door to my bakery swings open and Hannah’s voice calls to me through the storm. “Poppy? What are you doing out here?”
I don’t answer her because I’m honestly not sure. But I’m soaked to the bone from the mere minutes I’ve been out here, and my feet are still having a hard time carrying me back inside. I turn back to shore and see Fitzy standing at the start of the wharf with an umbrella and raincoat.
“Hannah, here!” I throw my keys to her and wipe at the water dripping down my forehead. “Lock up, please? I have to go.”
“Sure, okay,” she replies in confusion. “What about?—”
“We’ll reschedule.”
I’m confused by what I’m doing as well, I just feel like I need to do something . And the mayor’s appearance gives me the perfect excuse to avoid Tara until Hayden returns.
Hannah doesn’t try to stop me. There’s one person from Small Town Table I can appreciate it seems. It would be useless of her to try anyway; I’m already running down the wharf.
“Fitzy! Wait!” I call, my voice drowning in the forceful wind and rain. I wave an arm in his direction, successfully catching his attention.
Mayor Fitzgerald moves towards me, pulling his raincoat off and wrapping it around my shoulders when he reaches me. For this episode, I had donned a matching linen shorts and sleeveless top set, and my muscles are tense from the combination of chilling rain and minimal clothing.
“What are you doing out in this?” he asks, leading me to his waiting car.
“I—”
Thunder rumbles overhead, and I glance over my shoulder at the terrifyingly dark sea. It’s just so… angry.
I have always felt that the ocean was alive with its own personalities. But I never made a point to study this terrifying one.
My words feel caught in my throat as I take in the scene. “I chased Hayden,” I admit a little breathlessly.
He opens the passenger door of his Cadillac and ushers me inside. Then coming around the other side, Fitzy climbs into the driver’s seat with a stern look on his face. “It’s not safe to be out in this,” he tells me.
“You’re out in it,” I point out.
“I had to see the inaugural rescue takeoff. And oh my, am I glad I did. Wait,” he turns to me in surprise. “You were out here for Hayden?”
“Yeah, he was with me when he got the call.” I brush my wet hair back off my face and lean forward towards the heat blowing from the vents.
“Oh, so you two made up then. I’m glad. I thought it was silly, him asking me to keep it a secret. It could have ended your fight if?—”
“What secret?”
“Come again?” Fitzy falters.
“What secret did he ask you to keep from me?”
“Well… just that he withdrew his claim to the building voluntarily. Hayden asked me to give it to you instead, there was nothing unsuitable about it for him. But he wanted me to keep that detail out of things.”
I sit back and stare into the storm raging on. Pretty girl, nothing was wrong with it. I asked Fitzy to give the building to you . Hayden had said just as much. The night he stayed over to take care of me, he’d told me the truth and I’d been too out of it to hear him. Or too stubborn.
But his words were unwavering, even then. As if there’s never been doubt in his mind that I come first. The realization is enough to tilt my world off its axis. No, it would seem, I certainly haven’t known Hayden at all.
A crackling noise echoes in the car, pulling me from the memory. “Is that a radio for first responders?” I point to the box mounted on his dashboard.
“It is, that’s how I heard the dispatch call.”
“How did you know to come to the wharf?”
“I can get the emergency comms on it too. I heard one pilot tell the other that they were taking off without Hayden and picking him up here.”
My hand flies forward. “What channel?”
Fitzy locates the channel Hayden’s team is using, and together, we sit in the harbor parking lot listening to everything playing out.
Roger. Seven souls reported on the vessel in distress .
We don’t have visual with the water above 300 feet today, boys .
Roger. Won’t be able to drop to 15 either .
Position’s good, easy down.
Easy down.
Easy down.
Swimmer’s ready.
I haven’t heard Hayden at all. But I recognize that last voice, it belongs to Wes. And I already know the swimmer he’s referring to is Hayden. I grip Fitzy’s arm and my knuckles are white. Our mayor looks down at my hand, and I see worry in his eyes.
“Maybe we should turn this off?”
“No, please don’t. Please,” I beg.
He nods hesitantly, patting my hand. The grateful smile I flash feels more like a grimace, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Dropping the conversation, we turn our attention back to the radio.
Roger, swimmer deployed.
Swimmer away.
I hold my breath as white noise crackles over the radio, filling the silence that stretches on. Then I hear Wes’s voice once again.
Swimmer’s okay .
A long exhale escapes me. For now, he’s okay.
We listen in tense silence for each update. One saved. Then two. Three. Four. Five. Hayden keeps sending them to safety, all the while keeping himself in treacherous conditions.
Six saved.
Lost visual on the swimmer , I hear Wes say. No. No, no, no. Sickness floods me as tears threaten my eyes.
The torrent of rain and crackle of the radio are the only noise as the minutes stretch on. I hold my breath. I can’t lose Hayden before I truly have him.
“Breathe,” Fitzy murmurs beside me. “Just breathe, Poppy.”
I’ve got him! Swimmer at five o’clock. Looks like he found our seventh soul.
Wes’s voice is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard as he confirms that Hayden is okay. He reports that the seventh teenager is safe with them. And then he reports that the swimmer is back in the helicopter.
I feel the iron knot in my chest loosen and finally take a deep breath, attempting to send release through my muscles. Hayden’s out of the water. He’s okay.
“Fitzy, can you take me to their department?”
“You got it, kiddo,” he replies warmly, throwing the car in reverse. It’s a short drive, but visibility is nonexistent once we get moving. I can’t even imagine what they’re experiencing in the helicopter right now.
Is he actually okay? Or is the flight back dangerous too?
We finally pull into the fire station that has the new addition for the air sea team and I’m peeling off the raincoat and returning it to our mayor before he comes to a stop.
Once parked, I thank him and jump out of his car.
I can see the helicopter landing around back, and ambulances waiting for the teenagers.
At the back corner of the station, I find a place where I’m out of the way but will be able to clearly see Hayden once he exits the helicopter.
I just need to see, with my own eyes, that he’s here and okay.
I wrap my arms around myself, soaked and freezing once again. Despite the storm, I’m prepared to wait all night if I need to. But it’s only a matter of minutes before all the teens are unloaded and then he’s there.
Jumping down to the ground he has his wetsuit stripped from his chest and tied around his waist, and a T-shirt clinging tightly to him. His hair is slicked back, and he’s breathtakingly handsome and intoxicatingly in command of the operations.
Lifting his gaze beyond the commotion, Hayden’s eyes catch on me, as if sensing my presence. “This is your show now,” I hear him shout to Wes. He breaks into a brisk stride, pushing past everything to head my way.
My heart is in my throat. I’m desperate to have his hands on me. To be able to grab for him and feel that he’s physically back here on land. But when he reaches me, he doesn’t hug me. Instead, Hayden grips my shoulders, a frantic look in his eyes.
“What are you doing out in the storm? And dressed like this? You’re frozen! This isn’t safe, Poppy!”
“You’re worried about me being safe right now?” I shout back at him. “I watched the training; I watched you fling your body out of a helicopter into the water! And in a storm like this today? Hayden, what the hell !”
“You’re… mad?” He blinks at me in confusion.
“Yes, I’m fucking furious!” I didn’t even realize it until the words started tumbling out. But I can’t stop now.
“You’re mad at me.”
“Yes,” I shout louder.
“You’re here because you’re mad at me for saving seven lives today?”
“No, of course not. The fact that you saved them is amazing.” I wave my hand dismissively.
How could I be mad about that part? Instead, I take a shaky breath and blurt out the truth.
“I’m mad at you for making me worry about you.
For making me care that this is what you do.
I was so terrified for you tonight; I’m a fucking mess over it. Look at me!”
Hayden slides his hands from my shoulders, one moving to cup my jaw and the other dropping to my waist. He pulls me towards him and murmurs, “Kiss me, pretty girl.”
“What?” I pull back from his embrace, my brain hazy from the rush of emotions.
“I am looking at you, Poppy, baby. I always am. And you’re here right now. So, when are you going to stop pretending you don’t feel this?” he growls, attempting to pull me towards him again.
This time, I move towards him. Taking a step to close the distance between us, I press my body tight to him. As I do, his mouth crushes against mine frantically. It is utterly exquisite to finally kiss him, and I reach up to tangle my fingers in his hair at his neck, holding him to me.
Water rolls off his face to mine, and the rain is still pelting us furiously.
But I don’t feel it. Instead, I feel the way he grips me like he never wants to let me go, his fingers curling in to clutch me in his strong grasp.
I feel the way his mouth slants against me and tastes how he is salty as he kisses me deeply.
I open further, eager for his tongue to claim its territory.
Because every inch of me is his territory.
Reading my opening for what it is, his tongue moves to taste more of me with urgency. I sink into him, moaning when he slows his pace, taking his time with the kiss, with me.
Only when I’m past breathless and verging on dangerously needing oxygen do I tear my mouth from his. Resting my forehead on his chest, I work to regain my composure. He wraps his arms around me and drops his chin to the top of my head, shielding me from the storm with his body.
“Let’s get you inside and in some dry clothes,” he rasps against my drenched hair.
“But do you need to?—”
“What I need is to get you inside. I’m all yours, and I’m not leaving your side.”
Hearing the words that he’s mine, even if he means only in this moment, a flame of hope ignites within me. Because I think I’ve been his for some time.