31. Hayden
Hayden
P oppy smells like salt water from the pool and smoke from the fire.
Today’s gone better than I could have ever imagined, and I tighten my arms around her as she nestles herself between my legs.
It felt like I was pushing my luck, pulling her down into the Adirondack chair with me.
But here she is, pressed against my chest, wrapped under a blanket with me in the growing darkness.
Across the fire pit, Ivy yawns from Tripp’s lap. He whispers something in her ear, then the two of them rise. “We’re taking off. Thanks for today,” Tripp says, turning to me and then Beckett. All that remains around us are Wren, Stevie, and Beckett. And they stand with Tripp and Ivy.
“We’ll head out with you,” Stevie says. She and Wren look at Poppy, not so subtly asking her a silent question. They’re waiting to figure out if she’s going with them. I really hope she’s not.
“I can take you home later,” I offer, desperate for more time. I never feel like I can get enough of it when it comes to her.
She twists to look up at me. “Okay. I’ll take you up on that.”
Beckett stands as well, mumbling something about walking them out.
And by doing so, he’s effectively left the two of us alone.
As they disappear into the house, I tuck the blanket in tighter around her.
Poppy sighs contently in response, and then the only sound for some time is the crackle of the fire and the steady break of the waves beyond the cliff.
“Thank you for being here today,” I whisper after a moment.
“I should be thanking you for continuing to invite me. For not giving up on me.”
“I would never give up on you,” I say, nuzzling my face in her hair. The truth is, I couldn’t . Even when I tried time and time again.
It hadn’t been as hard when I was in the Coast Guard, we hardly interacted before then. She was simply the pretty girl back home that I found myself thinking of time-to-time. Once I came home though, and really started getting to be around her, I knew I couldn’t leave her ever again.
“We need to talk about the show,” she murmurs. “I’m going to tell Tara no.” There’s pure determination in her tone. As far as Poppy is concerned, this isn’t up for debate.
Too bad for her.
“What happened to us talking about it?”
A fierce little huff escapes her. “Why would we consider this?”
“Have you decided to take me up on the offer to help with the bakery?”
Poppy adjusts the blanket, pulling it up to hide the majority of her face. “Not particularly,” she mutters.
“Then we find out what Tara thinks she knows about my family.”
She turns in my arms, looking up at me skeptically. But she doesn’t press me for details. Poppy has no interest in prying me open for her own personal curiosity. I pull her into a kiss, urgent to convey my appreciation for that.
But I realize, as her lips lock with mine, that I want to tell her everything that happened. Things I’ve never wanted to tell anyone, not even Beckett.
“My parents weren’t going out to dinner that night,” I start, tucking her against my shoulder. “My dad was evading arrest.”
She sucks in a breath, taking my hand in hers under the blanket.
I squeeze her tight and continue. “I know it came out that he was on the FBI’s radar before the accident, but it was more than that.
My dad wasn’t a good man. He was embezzling customer funds, and the feds were closing in.
That night, he’d gotten a tip that they were coming for him, to finally make an arrest.”
“Hayden—”
“It gets worse,” I assure her. “Beckett was out at the time, so his original plan for all four of us to flee the country wasn’t going to work.
Or so he said. I always thought that was his excuse to leave us behind.
Mom believed him though. She thought that the two of them would go first and then send word for Beck and me to follow. ”
This is the first time I’ve said this aloud, I didn’t even tell Beckett these details.
I didn’t think it would do him any good to know he had been blamed for our being left behind.
I still recall all the details that night, like it was yesterday.
Mom crying and hugging me, Dad rushing around and yelling at her to pack.
He was frantic, an animal that was about to be caged at last.
“My parents never said goodbye to him. And really, it was only my mom that said goodbye to me. Then they were gone. I’m not sure what happened, but there were skid marks on the road and the guardrail was busted through.
They found the car at the bottom of the cliff, just a few miles up the road from here. But there was never any trace of them.”
Chest tight, I can hear the strain in my own voice. Poppy must hear it, too, because she takes her hand that isn’t holding mine and lifts it to cup my jaw. “I’m so sorry, that must have been awful to deal with alone—and that young. I just can’t imagine.”
I lean into her touch, letting it ground me. “Early the next morning, the FBI woke me up with the news. Then they bombarded me with how close they actually were with busting him. I’m the one who made up the dinner story in the moment. Beckett was standing right there, I couldn’t?—”
“I understand,” she says softly, placing a series of kisses on my shoulder.
The gentle act carries staggering comfort, and I close my eyes to savor the feel of her lips brushing across me. Without fully pulling away between kisses, Poppy adds, “I’m sorry you were put in that situation.”
“Everything that followed was pure chaos and speculation,” I continue, spurred on by her support.
“Eventually the case against the company fell apart with my dad gone. I didn’t trust any of his advisors though.
So, with the help of Mrs. Silberman, I hired all new people to run it.
When that died down, news reports pivoted to talking about the crash being planned. ”
“Wait. They thought your dad purposely crashed?”
“In a manner of speaking,” I croak.
“What manner?”
“There are some that believe he staged the crash.”
Poppy jolts up, awareness washing over her. “Are you saying that people actually think your parents faked their deaths to get away? Without you guys? That they’re just living carefree on an island somewhere, letting you grieve for them?”
“It is one of the more popular theories out there.”
Her eyes shine with anger in the light from the fire. Anger on my behalf. “That is disgusting.”
“Some of the true crime podcasts really spun interesting stories. Impressively elaborate details are why I know they’re wrong though. They are giving my dad too much credit in those theories. But I also know Mom couldn’t have ever agreed to that. I just… I know she’s gone. I can’t explain it.”
“You don’t have to. I understand.”
“Anyway, that’s what we need to find out before deciding. Tara’s angle. What she wants to speculate about, if it’s about what I think really happened to them.”
“I’m not letting her anywhere near this angle,” she says firmly.
With a kiss to her temple, I reply with the same certainty. “And I’m not letting you lose your bakery.”
I’m also not going to let her go, but I don’t share that thought yet. My heart beats for this stubborn woman; it has for longer than she would believe.
“This is different, I pulled you into the show. You didn’t make me open a bakery.”
“What’s your point?”
“What happens if I don’t let you swoop in and save me?” Poppy whispers the question like she’s worried she could scare me away.
“I look forward to every heated conversation,” I promise.
“I look forward to it too.” She’s moved from my shoulder to plant a kiss on my jaw.
Like every other force of nature I come up against, I’ll continue to battle Poppy with a fervent respect for how powerful her magnificently fierce drive is. There’s a reason they used to name hurricanes solely after women, and I’m all too happy to be swept away in her wake.