Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Poppy
A week later, Poppy, Thom, and Felony wandered down from Solstice Deep to Blackweather Green.
It was Friday night, and they’d agreed to meet up with Wren, Dane, and Hayes, to join them on the green for a mini version of H-Town’s famous Moonlight Night market.
Instead of the craziness that was the real Christmas market, there was just a sprinkling of activity: Cilla, the tarot card reader was working, and the Boozy Broomstick, a drinks truck she recognized from past events, was peddling cocktails and homemade cider.
Other stalls sold charms, homemade soaps and slices of cake and pie.
Old Mrs. Reynolds was wondering around, offering blocks of her chocolate-brownie cookies.
An incident from years ago reminded Poppy to check whether these were dope-enhanced or not.
With Mrs. Reynolds, as old as God and an original hippie, you couldn’t always be sure, or that she’d tell the truth.
“If we don’t want to be absolutely lit, it’s best we avoid Mrs. Reynolds and her brownies,” Poppy told Thom.
Thom looked around. “Who’s that again?”
Poppy pointed to the old lady, who’d swapped her summer bikini for skinny jeans, leopard-print boots and a bright pink, fake-fur jacket. “Got it,” he said, unfazed.
“It’s a pity, because they are damn good cookies.”
Poppy returned her attention to the activity on the green, thinking that tonight the town was flirting more than trading.
People, both residents and tourists, paused to chat, lingered, breathed.
Some people sat on blankets chilling, others stood in groups, catching up.
Madame Calliope, Luna, wearing a—Poppy squinted—Witching Rest Face T-shirt, and Andrea, the head witch from her coven, were sitting on a bench discussing weighty H-Town matters. Or plotting world domination.
Or complaining about the menopause. You never knew.
Poppy hummed along with music coming from the band playing in the iron bandstand.
She didn’t know the tune, but what did that matter?
She felt lighter than she had in months, relishing the freedom to enjoy being with Thom, this crazy, vibey town, and being in the moment without having to perform, free from expectation.
She wasn’t used to feeling calm and grounded. And safe.
Poppy winced as Felony darted off, chasing what he thought was a rabbit and nearly jerking Thom’s arm out of its socket.
Her week-long lover sent her a dark look, and she winced.
He’d told her that bringing Fel to this event was a really bad, terrible, awful idea, but she’d insisted.
She knew how much Fel hated to be alone, and she was also worried about leaving him unsupervised with her shoes.
So far, he’d nibbled away at one pair of leather boots and her favorite Vans.
“I hate you, McMaster,” Thom said, as Felony barked at a massive pumpkin with foot-long eyes and a sinister mouth. Thom wrapped the leash around his wrist to keep Felony at his side. “I’m not going to be able to use my arm tomorrow.”
She shrugged and sent him a naughty smile. “As long as you can use your mouth, I’m golden,” she said, referring to the very steamy, in more ways than one, shower they’d shared earlier.
Thom groaned. “I don’t need you misbehaving too, either.”
Poppy grinned and looked down at his half-demented dog. He was turning circles, and his leash was a lot shorter than it was before. Okay, enough was enough. Dropping to her haunches in front of him, she waited until Felony locked eyes with her and lifted her index finger. “Felony, enough. Sit.”
She looked up to see Thom’s expression as his huge, impossible, unruly dog plopped his butt on the grass, his expression now suggesting that he was heaven-sent.
“He’s never done that before,” Thom stated, looking down.
Poppy stroked Felony’s ears and rubbed his chest. “He’s always done it for me,” she said, sounding offhand. Thom didn’t need to know that when she was supposed to be sanding windowsills or stripping wallpaper, she spent most of that time training Felony.
“Do you have any idea how much effort I put into training him? How many hours, and treats he ate? I gave up, assuming he was too stupid to learn!” Thom said, sounding pretty pissed off. She grinned.
“He was dissing you.”
Thom bent down to look Felony in the eye. “You’re an asshole,” he told him, frowning.
Poppy immediately covered the dog’s ears with her hands. “Don’t say that,” she hissed, sotto voce, “you’ll hurt his feelings.”
“He’s a manipulative, disobedient shit,” Thom retorted, doubling down.
Poppy dropped a kiss on his furry head. “Shh, baby, don’t listen to him,” she murmured, rubbing his neck. “You’re gorgeous and my boy.” Felony stood and snuggled into her, trying to wiggle all the way in. Yep, they were besties now.
Thom, obviously thinking he needed to yank back some control, lifted his finger and pointed it at Felony’s nose. “Sit!”
Felony sniffed and buried his head under Poppy’s arm, moving his body to point his butt in Thom’s direction. Lol, cute try, but not even close. Poppy stroked Fel’s back from his neck to his rump, and Felony wriggled in delight.
“It’s not his fault he doesn’t say it right, Fel,” she murmured, giving Thom shit with a smile.
“I do say it right! I say sit just like you do.”
Poppy rolled her eyes and Thom threw his hands up in the air. “My woman and my dog have teamed up against me.”
Poppy smiled at him, telling herself not to read too much into my woman.
They were having a fling, were temporary housemates, exploring their chemistry.
That was all there was to this … whatever this was.
Poppy took Thom’s hand and he pulled her to her feet.
She was surprised when he kept her hand in his.
Were they announcing the shift in their relationship to H-Town? How did she feel about that?
Before she could answer her own question, Thom nodded to the people hanging around on Blackweather Green. “Would you and His Lordship like to carry on?” he asked.
Poppy lifted her nose and tried to look aristocratic “How come he gets a title, and I don’t?” she demanded.
Thom tried to hide his smile, but she saw it, and her heart stuttered at the humor in his eyes. “Come along then, Duchess.”
“Better.”
“Thom!”
Poppy saw a woman, about her age and pretty, running across to them, a little unnerved by the excitement in her eyes.
She looked slightly familiar, but Poppy couldn’t place her.
Who was she, and why was she looking at Thom like he hung the moon and all the stars?
Poppy tried to pull her hand from Thom’s and shot him a look when his hand tightened around hers.
So, okay, he didn’t seem to care who knew they were together.
Right.
She sent Thom a smile full of admiration. Thom responded with one of his more lethal smiles, the one Poppy loved best: a little flirty, a lot fun. Poppy narrowed her eyes. Seriously, why was he smiling at another woman while holding her hand?
Even Felony was going a little nuts for her. What was she—chopped liver? Though, to be fair, Fel rather liked chopped liver.
The woman reached them and instantly dropped to her knees, throwing her arms around Fel’s neck. As he had with Poppy earlier, Fel burrowed in. Poppy rolled her eyes. Fel was so damn easy.
“Oh, I’ve missed you so much! How’ve you been, darling boy? Have you been good, huh?”
No, of course not. He’d eaten her favorite green Vans. Her left shoe now had a hole right above her big toe.
“Poppy, meet Edie, she’s Fel’s dog-walker. Edie, meet Poppy.”
Fel’s dog-walker? Well, then.
Edie smiled at her. “Hi.”
Hi, back, dog-walker person.
Thom handed Edie Felony’s leash. “If you’ve missed him that much, you can take him. I’ll pay you double your hourly rate.”
She looked up, narrowed her eyes, and cocked her head. “Triple.”
“Deal,” Thom said, and without further argument, tugged Poppy into a jog. When she asked him why they were running, he looked down at her. “I don’t want her to change her mind,” he admitted.
“Poor Fel,” Poppy said, trying to keep up with his long strides. “You’re abandoning your baby.”
“He’s, as we both know, your baby.” Thom stopped and smiled down at her.
“And you really don’t have to worry about him.
Edie will feed him hot dogs and spend a few hours patting him and stroking him, telling him how marvelous he is.
When he comes home, his head won’t be able to fit through the door. ”
Poppy laughed at his grumbling. “You and your dog have the weirdest relationship,” she said.
“Tell me about it,” he said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at it. “Shall we text Wren to find out where they are?”
“She said they’d be on the lake side of the meadow, close to where Hayes broke his leg.”
Thom instantly nodded. That was the thing about having a history that went back to their childhoods: they had references that most people didn’t.
With her hand still in Thom’s, they hurried through the crowds to the big oak tree—the same one Hayes’d tumbled from when he was thirteen.
Hayes and Thom had a bet to see who could go highest, when Hayes slipped and fell and ended up breaking his tibia, putting him in crutches for the rest of the summer.
“Remember how grumpy he was?” Thom asked, picking up her train of thought.
“He was impossible,” Poppy replied, laughing.
“I also remember sneaking him into Dr. Morris’s rooms to get his cast replaced because he got it wet in the lake, and him trying to bribe the doc into not telling his mom.
” Thom grinned, pulled her in for a side hug, and, holding hands, they approached their friends, who were lounging on a picnic blanket under the tree.