Chapter 6 #2
She was newly single. And while she didn’t regret running away from her wedding, and she was more relieved than heartbroken, she did feel a little raw.
Slightly bruised. And, because she tried to be an adult when it came to her love life, she had to consider whether her attraction to Thom was just a rebound thing—were they sparking because she was lonely and untethered?
Because it had been a long time since she’d felt attractive, seen, and wanted?
Or worse … was her attraction real, a grown-up version of the adoration she’d always felt for Thom?
And how was she supposed to get to the truth?
She knew he wanted her. It was there in the rough edge of his voice, in the way he looked at her, the way he seemed to be holding himself back.
It would be so, so easy to fall into him, to fall for him.
To sink into the memories and let the attraction blur the jagged edges of rationality.
He felt solid. Warm. Steady. The kind of man a girl could lean on and trust that he’d hold her.
Which was exactly the problem. Because Poppy had a history of mistaking temporary approval for forever. It was, as he’d said, too soon…
Too soon after the wedding-that-wasn’t. Too soon after humiliating herself by arriving in H-Town in only her ruined wedding dress. Too soon to know if she wanted Thom … or just someone who made her feel safe. And chosen.
Until she worked that out, she needed to keep her distance.
But she really didn’t want to.
She took another tiny sip of beer, leaned harder against Wren, and wished—fiercely—that her life could be simple. Quieter. Less tangled up in choices and consequences.
She was so grateful to have Wren in her life, by her side.
Earlier, Wren had delivered the boxes she and Dane had collected from Benji’s apartment, then Poppy, Thom, and Wren had moved them into an empty bedroom on the second floor.
Wren still didn’t know the real truth of why she’d left Benji at the altar.
Wren—fearless, blunt, gloriously authentic—would never marry to appease the people around her. Even the suggestion would make her snort-laugh and walk away. She wouldn’t get it. Wouldn’t even try to get it. It would be a hard no from her best, oldest friend.
So how could Poppy tell her? But how could she not tell her?
Poppy sighed, deciding to push it aside for now.
Wren had flown back from LA for her, dealt with her mother, picked up her stuff…
She was truly amazing, and Poppy was so grateful.
She curled her arm around Wren’s calf and squeezed, a gentle, quiet thank you.
Wren, always in tune with her, stroked her hair and carried on talking to Hayes and Thom.
It was a pity Dane wasn’t here, but he was at County Hospital operating on car-crash victims. Wren wasn’t expecting him home anytime soon.
Poppy looked at Hadley, who was looking toward the lake, her eyes a little clouded, her attention on something only she could see.
She nudged Hadley’s trainer with hers. “What is it, Hads?” she quietly asked.
Hadley looked around to see who else was listening. “A woman is sitting on the swing,” she whispered. “She looks angry-sad.”
Poppy looked at the swing but didn’t pick up the ghost Hadley was seeing.
Hadley was far more sensitive, and able to see and hear so much more.
Her psychic powers weren’t something Hayes encouraged—and he genuinely believed that Hadley was simply sensitive and too easily influenced by growing up in a town obsessed with Halloween and the paranormal.
Poppy reached over to squeeze Hadley’s hand in a show of support.
She knew that Hayes—who became a dad at nineteen and had raised Hadley on his own—adored his daughter, would die for her.
But she wished he was a little more open to her psychic abilities, though he was an incredible dad, and Hadley handled her abilities with maturity and sensibility.
“What does she look like?” she whispered.
“Black hair, red lipstick, biker jacket, and boots.”
The ghost from the mirror?
“She’s looking at you, Pops.”
Yeah, Poppy imagined she was. But why was the ghost hanging around, and how long had she been here? “What else can you tell me about her?” she asked.
“She misses her dog.”
Poppy smiled and looked behind her to see Felony stretched out behind Thom, his nose almost touching Thom’s butt. They acted like they couldn’t stand each other, but Poppy knew the bond between them was stronger than either would admit. Typical boy behavior.
“By the way, Wren, I am about to murder your godmother.” Hayes interrupted their ghost talk, and Poppy lifted her eyebrows at his frustration.
“Get in line,” Wren replied, not even remotely surprised by his harsh statement.
Then again, Luna often made people want to pull their hair out.
She was a steamroller in human form, someone who used a combination of threats, manipulation, charm, and hexes to get her way. “What has she done now?” she asked.
“I casually mentioned the Thanksgiving grudge match when I bumped into her last week, and the next day, I received a ten-page presentation on how she plans to ‘Halloweenify’ the match.”
So Luna hadn’t moved on from her Thanksgiving plans.
You’d think that with Halloween around the corner, she had enough to do, but no.
Poppy sat up straight and leaned back against a balustrade.
It wobbled before taking her weight. “It’s the one town activity that’s normal,” Hayes continued.
“And by normal, I mean untouched by bats and broomsticks.”
If Luna got her way, that would change.
“She wants to promote it as a tourist event. Her ideas include the players running out through fog machines and glowing pumpkins. She’s tasked a graphic designer to come up with a haunted version of the team logo, and she wants the marching band to be dressed as zombies, and to play ‘spooky’ music, whatever the hell that is.
And to do a zombie shuffle, whatever the fuck that is!
” He looked at Hadley and sighed. “Sorry, Hads.”
Hadley shrugged. “I have no objection to you swearing, as you have to pay me every time you do. So please, carry on.”
“How much do you owe Hadley, dude?” Thom smiled, and Poppy’s stomach rolled over.
Dear God, that smile, open and authentic, could power a few small towns and an AI server farm.
It made the fine lines at the corner of his eyes deepen in the most delicious way.
Her childhood hero was a very, very attractive man.
A man who could kiss to Olympic standards. Don’t go there, McMaster.
Hayes scowled at his daughter. “More than I should, but far less than she claims.”
Hadley waved her phone and handed him a smug grin. “I keep a record … dude.”
“Smart ass,” Hayes muttered.
“I get it from you,” Hadley cheerfully agreed.
Poppy smiled, soaking up their banter and their easy closeness.
It wasn’t something she’d had with her own parents.
As the youngest child, she’d sensed they’d run out of interest—and energy—by the time she arrived.
And because she wasn’t academically gifted like her siblings, parental enthusiasm had been thin on the ground.
Without her grandparents, this house, and this town, her childhood would’ve been an unbroken stretch of loneliness. Knowing she could escape back to H-Town during school vacations—to a place where she was loved, indulged, and genuinely seen—had kept her going.
It was no wonder she’d felt so untethered after their deaths. Grandpa and Grandma M. had been her compass points. Without them, it felt as though someone had dialed down the sun.
Then Benji—bold, charming, and very much parent-approved—had turned his spotlight on her. With him at her side, she’d received the positive attention from her family she never experienced as a child, and she jumped in fast.
Not, as it turned out, her smartest decision.
On hearing the growly sound of a deep-throated bike, they all turned simultaneously to watch Luna, minus a helmet, barreling down the drive on what Poppy thought was a too-powerful motorbike.
Wren shook her head and pointed an accusing finger at Hayes.
“I blame you for this,” she said, scowling. “Why did you restore it for her?”
Hayes raised his hands. “Business is business, and it’s her grandfather’s Harley. I wasn’t going to let anyone else touch it.”
Luna pulled up, slammed on the brakes and gravel flew from her back tire.
She cut the engine, climbed off, and slapped her hands on her hips, looking delighted.
Poppy knew her well enough to know that a happy Luna was one about to cause trouble.
“Excellent, you’re all here!” she said, her voice booming.
Walking over to them, she plopped herself down next to Poppy and rested her wrists on her knees.
“Luna, you cannot ride without a helmet,” Hayes stated, frustrated.
“Pfft, the goddess protects me.”
“If that’s true, then the goddess protects stupid people,” Hayes retorted.
Luna whirled around to glare at him, Hayes glared back, and Poppy sighed.
Luna and Hayes reminded her of two massive bison bumping heads.
It would be interesting to see who won the battle for the soul of the Thanksgiving football match.
Luna was sneaky, manipulative, and charming, and not above using the odd spell to get her way.
But Hayes was as stubborn as hell. The odds were even.
Thom stretched out his long legs and crossed his ankles. “Two questions, Luna… Do you want a beer? And why are you here?”
“No to the beer, I’m on a detox diet. No alcohol, sugar, carbs, or dairy.”
“Basically, all the joys of life,” Wren muttered, just low enough for Poppy to hear. “She’s currently a monster. But she’ll only last another day, at most, before she caves.”
Luna swatted Wren’s knee. “I heard that, and I will complete the three-week program!”
“You so won’t,” Wren countered.