Chapter 19 #2
Thom hesitated, pulled off a sticker, and tapped the floating wooden dock anchored off the beach at Solstice Deep.
He smoothed down a sticker of him—they’d obviously been recreated from photos because the sticker boy looked exactly like Thom did at twenty, and she remembered the lurid-green boardshorts he’d worn that day—and placed him on the floating dock.
Her sticker was her lying on her back, resting on her elbows, looking more shapely than she remembered, her hair tumbling down her back, and wearing only a skimpy white and navy bikini.
“That’s when I ran,” he said softly. “I won’t apologize for it. I still think it was the right thing to do. I’m just sorry it took me so long to find you again.”
She crossed her arms, her heart banging against her ribs.
When he held out the page of stickers for her to take, she raised her eyebrows, not wanting to drop her eyes from his face, to miss one micro expression.
“Why are you giving me the sheet of stickers?” she asked, half scared, but very curious to know his answer.
“I filled in our past, I’d like you to fill in our future,” he quietly said. “On that sheet are stickers of everything I want from you and for the years to come. I’m hoping there are things you want on it as well.”
Poppy curled her fingers around the paper and dropped her eyes to the sheet, skimming over the stickers.
Felony was represented, stretched out on a couch, his head on her knee.
There was another of a back view of a couple, the man was tall, holding the hand of a small, blonde-haired woman.
Poppy’s throat closed and she swallowed, tears blurring her eyes.
One rolled down over her cheek as she took in a bride in a boho dress, the exact opposite of her previous dress, flowers in her hair, and barefoot, walking up a flower-strewn path to the bandstand.
She’d always wanted to get married on Blackweather Green, in the summer, wearing a flowing dress and no shoes.
She couldn’t remember telling Thom that, but she and Wren might have discussed it within his earshot and he’d remembered.
There were more stickers. Her with a discernible bump; a red-haired little girl with bright blue eyes and a blond boy with gray eyes.
She shook her head, amazed that Thom had managed to create their future selves. She waved the sheet in the air. “How did you manage to do all this?” she demanded, swiping the tears off her face.
“I got the map from Luna and had it made into wallpaper. I know someone who’s a graphic designer, and she sorted the stickers for me, working from scanned photos.
” Thom tucked his hands into his armpits and rocked on his heels.
“How I did it isn’t important. I’d rather know whether all this, any of this”—he waved at the sheet—“is something you want.”
She did—of course she did—but he was the one who’d told her that they couldn’t have a relationship. What had changed?
Poppy placed the sheet on the desk and boosted herself to sit on the desk, her legs swinging.
She looked at the wall and sighed, internally issuing a stern warning not to get carried away.
“I appreciate the effort, Thom, I do, but I need to know why you’re doing this, and what has changed?
You told me you didn’t want us anymore.”
He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, that.” He linked his hands behind his neck and stared past her to look out the window. “I was scared, Poppy. You scare me, you always did.”
She was younger than him and half his size. “How on earth do I scare you?” she demanded.
“When you were little, it was instinct to protect you. Nothing made me happier than seeing you happy, and nothing pissed me off more than you getting hurt. I goddamn hated your siblings for picking on you, and I worried about you when we weren’t together.”
She saw his distress and jumped in to reassure him. “During school time, they were too busy being brilliant to waste time on me,” she told him. “They mostly left me alone.”
Some of his anxiety faded, and he dropped his hands. “When I found myself attracted to you, I freaked out, because that was never part of the plan. But I did want to reconnect, I thought I’d wait until you were out of college. But then you moved to New York and started living with someone.”
She thought about telling him that the guy he was thinking of was only a roommate and shared his room with his boyfriend, but he spoke before she could.
“When you came back to Boston, I had just started seeing Ingrid. After Benji screwed me, I came here to lick my wounds. When I heard you were dating Benji, I decided it was a huge sign that you and I were never supposed to be together.”
“Then I rocked up at Solstice Deep in my wedding dress.”
He smiled, and Poppy’s heart fluttered. Actually fluttered.
“I was astounded, thrilled, and terrified. And dumb-founded. It took me a while to accept that you were back in my house and my life.”
“You were never great at surprises,” she commented.
“You were the best surprise of my life,” he said. He placed his hands on either side of her hips, flat on her desk, and dropped his head down to look in her eyes.
“But you pushed me away, Thom. Why?”
He lifted a hand to push a strand of hair out of her eyes with the tip of his index finger.
“I didn’t understand your need to leave Solstice Deep.
Because I have a big ego, I thought it could only be about me, when it was all about you.
I’m a decisive guy, Poppy, with a strong personality, and it would be easy for me to make decisions for you.
But that’s not what you need. You want to have a voice, you want to work out what you want to say, who you want to be.
I’m sorry I didn’t understand that before, but I get it now.
Take all the time you need, I can wait. I just need… ”
His voice cracked and he bit down on his bottom lip. “I just can’t live life without you in it.”
It would be so easy to slide into his arms, to push this aide and move on. But it was too important, and if they didn’t deal with it now, it would keep causing havoc.
“I don’t want to stand in your shadow, Thom. I want to be strong enough to stand next to you, to be able to express my opinion. But in order to do that, I have to figure out who I am and what I stand for.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I understand that now, sweetheart, but I was terrified at the time, that’s why I reacted like I did. You, and only you, scare me. You have the ability to split open my soul, to eviscerate me emotionally. You always did.”
He put his hand back on the desk, and Poppy watched as his throat bobbed.
“I have only truly loved one woman my entire life, first when she was a girl and I felt like her brother, then as an adult woman who I wanted as my lover. That woman is you. Watching you walk away nearly dropped me to my knees.”
Poppy closed her eyes, unable to deal with the emotion in his eyes, the truth, the sheer importance of what he was saying.
“Open your eyes and look at me, Poppy,” he gently commanded.
When she did, his mouth quirked into that half-smile she so adored.
“You have been the biggest pain in my ass, my twenty-year-old wet dream, the one I let get away, and my lover.”
“And now?” she asked, bringing her hand up to rest the tips of her fingers on his jaw, but Thom’s eyes didn’t leave hers.
“Now you’re the only person I want to live the rest of my life with,” he told her, managing to radiate both sincerity and determination.
“Full disclosure, I want to live with you here, in this house. This can be your office-slash-studio, I want you to sleep in my bed with me, and train Felony to be less of a psycho, though I fear that’s impossible.
“Sometime in the future, in a week, or a month, or next year, I want to marry you in the bandstand, with you wearing a fun dress and carrying a bunch of wildflowers.”
“Luna would insist on marrying us,” she said.
His eyebrows flew up. “Is that you agreeing to my plan?”
“Just saying, since you might want to take that into consideration as you are making all these grand plans.”
“I would allow a three-headed lizard to marry us if it meant putting a ring on your finger and making you mine,” Thom informed her. He planted the gentlest kiss on the side of her mouth, and his whisper hit her lips. “Shall I carry on?”
“Please do,” Poppy murmured, her heart beating so loudly she was sure he could hear it banging away.
“A few years after we marry, I’d like a couple of kids, two, three, five, six—”
“Whoa, dude! I’d like a life, too.”
He grinned. “I haven’t heard any objections to my plan yet, so I’ll keep going.” He stroked his thumb down her jaw, across her cheekbone. “Raising kids, and more delinquent dogs, you painting and drawing and creating, me dividing my time between running this house as an inn and consulting again—”
“You’re definitely not going back to Sheffield Strategy?”
“I’d rather rub honey over my chest and staple myself to a beehive,” he told her. “No, I want flexibility, to have a decent work-life balance, to be present.”
She nodded, loving his ideas so far. Except for the six kids. He was going to have to seriously lower his expectations in that department. Two. At a push, three. No more.
“Have cookouts on the beach, parties with our friends, ignore the ghosts … everything, including growing old, with you. Only and forever with you.”
His voice cracked at the end, and he lowered his forehead to hers, closing his eyes, probably so that she didn’t see the tears in his.
This was, she realized, Thom at his most vulnerable, tentatively handing over his heart and future and hoping she’d accept it.
For a man who loathed feeling vulnerable, she knew how much courage it took for him to be this open and brave.
She kissed his mouth and kept her lips there. “Okay,” she told him.