Chapter 5
Gibb
Irealize about five seconds after she comes out of the washroom that she knows who I am.
I mean, I don’t really hide it. There’s an entire music room here at the cabin, she just hasn’t seen it yet.
I forgot about the records in the washroom though.
It was kind of a joke at the time. When I left, I really left.
My sister took over my place in L.A. and shipped a bunch of stuff to me, including a ton of Velvet Riot memorabilia.
Most of it is still in boxes, but Gramps wouldn’t let me shove those records in the attic.
He was always encouraging me and Mel to show off our achievements.
I’m pretty sure my Grammys are sitting under the frame holding the First Place Ribbon for my high school talent show.
He was adamant that being here didn’t mean I had run away from who I was, and he made me hang those damn gold and platinum records somewhere. So I hung them in the main floor washroom which was mainly reserved for guests, not that I had many of those.
Poppy avoids eye contact, hopping out on one foot and looking far better in my clothes than I should be noticing.
Then she stumbles, wincing and I reach her in about two strides, bending to lift her in my arms.
She gasps and her fingers curl into my shirt. “You can’t keep doing that.”
“I didn’t rescue you just to have you fall in my house.”
I walk her to the couch, hating how stiff she’s holding herself. “Are you hurt?”
Poppy shakes her head. “No more than before.”
I settle her on the leather. “Blanket? Pillow?”
“No thank you.” She glances around. “Maybe my phone?”
Grabbing her backpack, I pass it to her, noticing she still won’t meet my gaze. I sit on the edge of the couch and stick out my hand. “I guess we haven’t been formally introduced,” I say. “Gibson Hart.”
Biting her lip, Poppy shakes my hand. “Poppy Johnson.” She takes a deep breath. “Are you—”
Nodding, I keep ahold of her hand. “I am. But I’m not that anymore.”
I expect her to ask a bunch of questions, but she doesn’t. Instead, her big, blue eyes search mine and I feel exposed in a way I never have.
A spark flares in my stomach, and lower.
Poppy is beautiful and kind and I’m intrigued way beyond simple attraction.
Back in the clearing, it was easy to chalk it up to the fact that I’ve been alone for a long time, but that has been by choice.
There’s never been any shortage of interest, whether I was the frontman for Velvet Riot or whenever I head into Hollow Peak, but nothing ever made me want to put myself out there.
Something about Poppy whispers to me, which is crazy because we’ve just met.
Nothing about it makes sense, but I want her. My skin itches to be near her. My hands want to touch her. Her voice initiates something deep inside of me that previously only music has had the power to do.
I want her but I don’t want to scare her. I’m a stranger and she’s injured. She’s been abandoned by her friend and by the looks of the weather outside, she’s going to be trapped here for a couple of days at least.
I lean back, to put some distance between us. “Is there anyone you should call?”
Poppy blinks and spares a glance for her phone. “Yeah, I should probably call my friend.”
If she says she’s going to call the asshole who abandoned her, I don’t think I’ll be able to prevent myself from stealing her phone and tossing it out the window. “The guy you were hiking with?” My tone sounds aggressive, even to my ears.
Shaking her head, she looks away. “No, not that guy.”
The fire crackles and pops in the silence that follows her words. Poppy breathes a sigh and faces me. “Matt’s not—” she pauses. “He’s nothing, really.”
“Not your boyfriend?” I don’t really care how it sounds, I just want to know for sure.
“No.” She shrugs. “I guess we had a situationship, but it was never serious. Even today, I don’t really think it was a date.” Her nose wrinkles and I almost give in the urge to kiss it.
“I think…” Poppy points at the washroom. “Those records, in there. I think Matt knows who you are. I think he was looking for you and found your farm.”
Grim confirmation settles in my chest. The fence I can fix. I'll need to call about getting an extended system installed, something that makes it harder for someone to get close without me knowing.
That particular item has been on my list since my agent called three weeks ago to mention there'd been inquiries about my whereabouts, and I'd filed it away as something I'd deal with eventually. I should have dealt with it immediately.
I knew I was getting complacent. I started to believe that no one remembered me. I expected solitude.
What I didn't expect was her.
“Why would he be looking for me?” I ask.
Poppy toys with her phone, tapping the screen absentmindedly with her fingernail. “He’s a podcaster. He specializes in unsolved mysteries.”
“I’m an unsolved mystery?” I don’t know why I thought the fascination with me would die out when I was out of the spotlight. Maybe I’ll never escape.
“Well, Gibson Hart the frontman for Velvet Riot who disappeared a few years ago is an unsolved mystery. I’m not certain that Gibb the goat farmer is.
” She gives me a soft smile that fades. “I think Matt cut your fence.
On purpose." Her shoulders hunch as she continues.
"He said he had a lead for his podcast. He came up here looking something to use.
For a story." I hold his gaze. "I didn't know. He told me we were going for a hike, that it was beautiful and that I could use the exercise.”
I’m quiet for a moment. The fire in my chest shifts and settles. “What did you just say?”
Her eyes widen. “I didn’t know, I swear.”
"I know," I say. "Your boot prints don't match the ones near the fence. Your boots weren’t anywhere near the fence.”
Poppy stares at me. "You checked my boot prints."
"I check everyone's boot prints. It's my land." I shake my head. “That’s not what I meant though. He told you that you needed the exercise?”
A flush blooms on her pretty face and she points at her ankle. “I’m not much of a hiker. Matt’s pretty fit, and I prefer doing pretty much anything other than going to the gym.”
"Matt’s an asshole,” I say.
“My friend Neveah’s been telling me that.”
“You need to listen.” I clear my throat, thinking about what to say.
Back when I was with Velvet Riot, I didn’t have to worry about coming off like a creep.
Women approached me and it was simply a matter of me deciding what I was in the mood for.
Since I’ve been up here, there’s been no one.
That life loses its luster when you realize no one actually cares who you are, other than what you can do for them.
Yeah, it all seems great until the people you trust betray you.
Back then, I was never alone. There was always a party, always someone around and I thought there was always someone I could count on.
But that was a lie. The only person I can count on is myself. Being alone here is way better than being alone in a sea of people who all claim to love you.
“I guess. I think I just figured that maybe my expectations were too high.”
Fuck it. “You should have high expectations. A woman like you should be treated like a queen.”
Her mouth falls open. “You don’t even know me.”
I stand, backing away so I don’t give into the temptation to touch her.
“I know you’re beautiful and kind. I know you risked freezing to share your coat with a little animal.
An animal you refused to abandon, only for some jerk to abandon you.
You are brave and compassionate and relentlessly optimistic when most people would have been terrified. ”
“I was scared and I’m sorry he was up here. That he cut your fence, that I’m here, interrupting your life.”
“I’m not sorry,” I say in a low voice. “I’m thankful I noticed the fence and went to look for Stevie and found both of you.”
Her head tips up at my words.
“You’re not interrupting my life. There’s plenty of space here and if the road to town isn’t closed yet, it will be shortly and you’re not walking anywhere soon.
” I look behind her at the windows, now sheeted with ice.
I think about her bare hand shielding Stevie’s face from the wet snow.
How she took care of the baby without little thought for herself. “You need someone to take care of you.”
“You’ll take care of me?” I hear the confusion in her tone, and I understand it.
I’m confused too. I don’t know what magic she’s woven around me, or why some long-dead protective instinct has risen inside me at the sight of this woman, but suddenly all I want to do is take care of her.
I was once abandoned. Not in the same way, but in every way that matters.
Instead of thinking only of herself, she protected Stevie, kept her warm until I found them.
“I’d be happy to.”
Poppy’s eyes meet mine and silence stretches between us, the crack and pop of the fire the only sound in the room and I hold my breath. If she tells me to call the Sheriff or that she wants to leave, I’ll risk the weather outside to get her down the mountain to Hollow Peak.
“You don’t have to take care of me, but I don’t think I have many options at this point. If you’re sure it’s not a bother, I’ll stay.”
“I’m sure.” Somehow, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.