Chapter 40
Forty
Poppy
“See you in a few hours,” I tell Storm, brushing my lips over his and trying not to blush.
It’s been a week and a half since the tiny red bikini and the things this man has done to me…
Yeah, definitely blush-worthy.
But also…incredible.
Even if we’ve had to be sneaky and quiet considering the six-year-old down the hall.
He nips at the hinge of my jaw. “My turn tonight.”
“You said that last night.”
A grin. “Your point?”
Considering that man had tied me up and ate me out until he’d had to smother my cries of pleasure with his lips, I’m not about to complain.
Plus, he lets me have my fill of him…
For a few minutes, anyway.
“Go meet Rain,” I murmur. “The sooner the house is done, the sooner bathtubs will stop falling through the floor.”
His eyes warm. “And there will be plenty of new places to break in.”
My belly flutters, and I feel my cheeks heat again. “Trouble.”
“Nah, that’s Shep.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Holly and I will see you after you’re done with the girls.”
He steals one more kiss and then I’m watching him walk away before I turn toward the museum and the planning meeting that awaits.
Today will be frenetic with a boatload of last-minute details to confirm.
The game is in less than three weeks and the addition of the guys from the Eagles, Storm’s teammates, and Smitty’s crew from the Grizzlies mean that we’re getting a lot of attention online.
Tickets are sold out, along with every room at the inn.
Even the campsites down at Cedar Hollow Beach are fully booked.
I have the feeling this is going to be the best Home Ice Classic ever.
“I’d be smiling too if I just hooked a man who’s my meal ticket.”
I still, frowning, and turn to face Paige. She’s sneering at me—as is typical—so I ignore her, continue on my path.
“Don’t be like that,” she says.
“I’m not being like anything,” I tell her. “I need to get to the planning meeting.”
“Yeah, well, I need to land a hockey player with a fat wallet too.” She smirks. “So hook a sister up. I don’t even care if he’s hot like Storm, so long as he’ll pay.”
I just shake my head at her.
At least she’s honest?
But no way in hell am I letting any of Storm’s teammates or friends get within a mile of this woman.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“No, I haven’t.” She lifts one slender shoulder. “These men are used to relationships being transactional. They pony up the cash. You provide the blowjobs.”
My stomach twists.
Because I think of the hundred-dollar bill that keeps finding its way back into my pocket or my purse, my wallet, even once my shoe.
And feel sick.
Storm has bought dinner and groceries more often than not. He’s worked most every night beside me at Sully’s—when he’s not working with Rain on the house or hanging with Holly. He paid for Holly’s skating lessons and her hockey equipment and every time we went to Molly’s or Scoops or The Shack.
God, I didn’t even offer.
Does Storm think I’m like Paige?
Does he think he has to do that to make up for the years he wasn’t here?
My throat grows tight.
I need to do better, be better.
Even if it’s Paige who reminded me of that fact.
“We’re late,” I mutter. “We need to get to the meeting.”
“How long until you give up Sully’s?” she calls as I continue walking. “Transactional or not, I can’t imagine your hockey player will like you working till three or four in the morning when he’s on the road.”
My heart convulses.
Because Storm won’t like it.
He doesn’t like it now, keeps fussing over how little sleep I get on the regular.
Hell, he’s gotten up and let me rest more often than not since that first night he slept in my bed, getting Holly ready, taking her to camp.
What happens when he’s on the road or hell, even playing in Harrisburg?
The drive isn’t that long, but it’s not short either.
What if he wants us to move there?
No.
He’s fixing up the house. We’re building a life here.
And what if he decides he doesn’t want it? Or…God. What if he gets traded again?
The money is one thing, being away for forty-odd games is another. But a trade?
How would we survive a trade?
“I see you understand what I’m saying,” she drawls as she walks over to me, voice dropping. “Kind of hard to be there for your hockey player boyfriend if you’re tied to a Podunk town in the middle of nowhere.”
Horror knots up my insides, worry gnaws at my bones, panic nips at my heels but I just turn away from her and start for the museum. But I have no clue how I get there, not with the maelstrom of thoughts in my mind.
The money. The need to make sure things are fair.
Sully’s and Storm’s worry about the late nights, the way he keeps close and does too much.
And…the buzz of the bar beneath my feet as I soothed an infant Holly.
Her first steps across the worn rug in the living room.
The many times I cried myself to sleep in my bed after Sully died.
Messy Monday night dinners and cartoons on the TV and baths that splashed more water out of the tub than remained in it…
And Storm’s arms around me as I fall asleep. The smell of fresh pasta and French toast and lasagna in the air. His laughter mingling with Holly’s as they watch a movie or color together.
A family we’re building together.
But what if he’s like all the others, what if he leaves?
What if we have to leave?
What if it all goes wrong and Holly—
“Poppy?” Clem calls. “You coming?”
I shake myself, realize I’m standing outside the meeting room’s door. Slapping a smile on my face, I call back, “Yup! Be right there!”
And I am right there. But I’m not all there. The whole time we discuss vendors and concessions, ticket sales and the post-game concert that will be put on by the high school’s band, my mind is spinning.
Thinking.
Worrying.
I’m never giving up Sully’s. Never.
Not only is it Sully’s but it’s also my livelihood.
I won’t ever choose to be completely vulnerable, won’t rely on anyone—not fully.
The world is too fragile a place.
“You good, Pop?” Clover asks softly and I shake myself a second time. Realize I’ve autopiloted my way over to Molly’s for our hangout.
“I didn’t volunteer for anything truly atrocious, did I?” I mutter.
Clover bumps her shoulder against mine. “Nah, I had your back.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, breaking off the edge of my double chocolate chip cookie.
“Want to talk about it?” she asks.
I exhale, shake my head, push the worry out of my head.
I’m spiraling for no reason. Storm and I have figured out so much already. Why wouldn’t we sort this?
He knows how important Sully’s is to me.
He won’t jeopardize that.
“I’m good,” I say. “Just a small moment of panic.”
“I’m impressed it took you so long.”
My brows fly up. “What?”
“Pop, your entire life has changed in just a few months, and I’m happy that you’re happy.
But Storm left you all those years before.
And I understand why,” she adds when I start to protest. “If what happened to him happened to me…” She takes a breath.
“But that’s us being logical, being reasonable.
It’s your heart that’s talking now, and it was broken, babe.
So, it’s going to take some time and patience for it to trust what you guys have. ”
I exhale. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”
“I think I’m thrilled to see how happy you and Holly are,” she murmurs. “And I’m confident that’s the most important thing to Storm, that he’ll break his back to give you that.”
The twisting in my stomach eases.
Because she’s right.
Because…I feel the same.
I love him and just want him to be happy.
Exhaling, I bump her shoulder with mine this time around. “You’re pretty smart.”
“I know,” she says lightly as Clem sits down across from us, Daisy and Blossom right behind her.
“So help me God,” Clem declares, “if I have to organize another one of these, I’m going to launch myself off Grizzly Rock.”
“You’d do that anyway,” Blossom says.
A dramatic sigh. “Yes, I would.” A beat. “Because I love the thrill.”
I giggle and I’m not the only one.
The conversation turns from thrill-seeking to the Home Ice Classic then over to what’s happening at Bits & Bobs and Happy Tails, Blossom’s craft shop and Daisy’s pet store, respectively.
Clover chimes in with a funny story about a delivery gone wrong (and Shep miraculously stepping in to help make it right).
“Turns out he’s allergic to Baby’s Breath of all things,” she says with a giggle.
I smile, know that for all her blustering, there’s a part of The Enforcer who’s already let Shep in.
And I can’t wait to see how that all shakes out.
Clem winks at me, clearly thinking the same thing.
Then we’re discussing the upcoming school year and Holly’s excitement for first grade and soon enough it’s time to go our separate ways.
We exchange hugs and goodbyes and then I head over to Sully’s to get ready for the evening rush.
Storm and Holly come in right around dinner time and they pitstop for hugs and kisses before heading upstairs to cook.
Which means I get to pop up those same stairs to eat a delicious meal of pasta, zucchini, and peas a little while later.
“It has green stuff but it’s delicious, Mom,” Holly declares.
And she’s right, especially when paired with Storm’s yummy garlic bread.
“I didn’t have time for dessert,” he says, winding an arm around my middle and drawing me back against his chest as we do the dishes. “But I’m thinking you had that earlier in the form of double chocolate chip cookies.”
“My single double chocolate chip cookie was simply a snack, not dessert,” I tell him haughtily.
He grins, nips the top of my ear. “Maybe I’ll have dessert later.”
“I hope you do.”
He presses his hips forward and I shiver when I feel the hard length of him.
“Dad!”
I chuckle.
He groans.
But exhales and kisses the side of my neck before going off to play a round of post-dinner UNO with Holly.
I finish the dishes, kiss them both, and leave them to their nighttime routine of games, hockey (replays for the moment that Storm wants to study), bath time, and books while I give Cassie a break and then we both bustle our way through the rush.
Time flies and gossip sails through the air.
Then Storm shows up with the best thing ever—homemade double chocolate chip cookies, still warm from the oven.
“They’re not Molly’s,” he says. “But they’re pretty good.”
God, I love this man.
“They’re not pretty good,” I tell him. “They’re incredible.”
He just flashes me a smile. “I need to go clean up, but I’ll be down in a bit to help with last call.”
“You don’t have to—”
A long, hot kiss that sends catcalls our way.
Then he taps my nose.
“I know.” Another tap. “But I want to.”
I see Paige leaving as he heads upstairs and think of her words from earlier.
Then I think about dinner and dessert and a future I’m not willing to let go.
And definitely not because some bully is spouting nonsense.
Maybe I should sic The Enforcer on her.
Clover could take her down for sure.
Or maybe I’ll ignore her toxic bullshit and live the life that makes me happy.
Yeah, I think I’ll do that one.
Only…of course it’s never that easy.