Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
When Poppy woke again, the sun was bright in the sky outside the barn windows. She yawned, rolling over in the snug sheets. Something crumpled against her, and with sleepy eyes she reached to find a note on the pillow.
See you at June’s. X
It wasn’t exactly a declaration of undying love, but she’d take that scribbled X any day. Poppy stretched, feeling the satisfying ache in her limbs.
God, that man was good with his hands . . . and his mouth . . . and—
Other things.
She lay in a warm haze of memories, until her stomach rumbled, and she remembered that her clean clothes and a hot breakfast were still a drive away.
Cooper’s barn was empty, and it took a moment to adjust to the sound of trees and birdsong outside instead of the steady crashing of the waves.
Poppy scrambled out of bed, her feet bare on the cold floors.
She hunted around for her clothing, following the trail downstairs and back to the kitchen table.
She quickly redressed, flushing as the passionate images flooded her mind.
It’s a good thing that table was as sturdy as it looked.
Poppy lingered by the table. He’d cleaned up the shattered glass, but all of Cooper’s paperwork and blueprints were still scattered on the floor. She carefully collected them and placed them back into neat piles, remembering how he’d swept them aside in a moment of passion.
That man sure knew how to make her heart beat faster.
She couldn’t keep from smiling. It felt like her connection with Cooper had gone to a whole new level last night, and not just the physical side of things either.
Seeing him here, in his natural habitat, she understood him better.
Even though he’d hidden himself away out here in the woods, there was a part of him that wanted to take the leap, the same as she did. Open up to something new.
She wasn’t sure what any of it meant, but it felt good to be taking that risk again. With him.
Poppy yanked on her jacket, found her keys and opened the door, only to come face to face with—
“Debra?”
Poppy blinked. One of the older women from book club was on Cooper’s doorstep—hand outreached towards the doorbell. She had a Barbour jacket on, chic grey hair, and a crate full of apples in her arms.
Poppy stifled a groan. Just her luck that someone was making a neighborly delivery at ten in the morning!
“Poppy.” Debra’s eyes widened, and then a mischievous smile danced onto her face. “Good morning. I didn’t know I’d find you here.”
“I’m not! Here!” Poppy blurted, desperately thinking for a reason she would be emerging from Cooper’s house.
A reason that didn’t involve a night of torrid sex. And three orgasms.
“I . . . umm, was just dropping something off. For Cooper,” she kept babbling. “He said to just leave it inside. So that’s what I was doing.” Poppy grabbed her purse and lunged out of the door. “Great seeing you!”
“Dearie?” Debra stopped her. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“No! What? How?” Poppy gulped.
Debra smirked, and nodded to Poppy’s bare feet.
“Oh. Right.” Poppy looked around inside for her shoes. She found one sneaker tossed behind the couch, and another resting halfway up the stairs. When she re-emerged, shod this time, Debra’s smile had grown.
“See you around,” Poppy managed to mutter as she slinked past.
Debra laughed. “You have a great day now!”
No! Poppy glanced in the rearview mirror as she hightailed it out of there, watching Debra recede in the distance.
There was no way the other woman bought her story about an early-morning barefoot delivery.
At this rate, half the town would know about her sleepover before she even made it back to the beach!
She gulped and tried not to feel like she was back in college again, doing the walk of shame back to her dorm. She was a grown adult woman, she reminded herself firmly. She was allowed to have a sex life.
An amazing, bone-melting, spine-tingling, beg-for-more sex life.
Poppy grinned. She couldn’t help it. So, their secret hook-up had been busted wide open before it even had a chance to be secret. She didn’t care. Because wow, that had been good.
And she already wanted more.
Back at the beach house, she found the crew working hard on the house next door.
But Cooper—and his truck—were nowhere to be seen.
Probably getting supplies, she guessed, and took the opportunity to have a long shower and wash her hair.
She still cautiously tested the water before stepping under the spray, but thankfully, there had been no more “ice bucket” incidents since that first time with Cooper.
Her mind drifted, rinsing her hair. The shower was plenty big enough for two, so maybe Cooper could come join her one night after work, all sweaty from his labor . . .
The sound of her phone ringing interrupted her steamy thoughts, and even though Poppy was tempted to let it go to voicemail and stay happily locked in her fantasyland, she knew her hot water supply wouldn’t last forever.
She grabbed a towel and shut off the water, trying not to drip on the floors as she sprinted for her bedroom.
“Hello?” She picked up, and found Summer on the other end.
“Am I, or am I not, your best friend?”
“Um, yes?” Poppy trapped the phone against her ear and flipped her wet hair over, towel-drying it.
“So why am I like the last person to find out about Owen’s impromptu trip to Cape Cod?”
“Oh. That.”
“That?” Summer echoed. “Don’t tell me your life is so dramatic now that your ex-fiancé showing up on your doorstep in the middle of the night to swear his undying affection and beg you back doesn’t so much as warrant a text? Email? Facebook emoji?”
Poppy laughed. “OK, OK, I’m sorry! But in my defense, I’ve been . . . distracted.”
Summer gasped. “I know that tone. Who is he? What’s his name? Did he duel Owen for your affections in the middle of the Sweetbriar Cove town square?”
“Not quite.” Poppy couldn’t help but laugh at Summer’s dramatics. “His name is Cooper. He’s . . . an old friend. And we’ve been getting reacquainted.”
“You got laid, didn’t you? I can tell it from your voice.
You sound all happy and shiny and bouncing with well-banged hormones.
” Summer giggled. “Not that I’m not happy for you, but seriously?
You go to the ends of the earth to be alone and work, and you still manage to find a hot guy. He is hot, isn’t he?” she added.
“Smoldering.” Poppy grinned. “He just looks at me and I feel like I’m about to spontaneously combust.”
Summer sighed happily. “I remember how that feels. God, I love the butterflies.”
“It’s amazing,” Poppy admitted. “I wasn’t sure anything was going to happen. He kissed me, but then he acted like nothing happened. So I just went over there last night.”
“You seduced him? Look at you.” Summer sounded impressed. “I knew my bad influence would rub off one day.”
Poppy laughed. “You’re not so bad.”
“Only because I don’t have the time,” Summer said, rueful. “It’s hard to live wild and reckless when you have to be up at five a.m. to start baking bread for the day.”
“I told you, take a vacation,” Poppy said sternly. “Come visit.”
“Does this Cooper have hot friends?”
Poppy paused. “Actually, yes,” she said, thinking of Riley and Grayson. “Maybe it’s something in the water around here, makes the men all scruffy and gorgeous.”
“Scruffy and gorgeous sounds good to me, but I’ll come see you just as soon as Andre gets that stick out of his snooty French ass.”
“You should tell him that,” Poppy said, teasing.
Summer hooted with laughter. “Can you just imagine his face? Or worse still, my mother’s?”
“Maybe not.” Poppy winced. Summer’s mom was a famous TV chef who gave Martha Stewart and the Barefoot Contessa a run for their money. Summer had spent her life in her mother’s shadow—and trying to win her approval, too. “Anyway, tell me what I’m supposed to do now, with Cooper.”
“You’ve done it once. You shouldn’t need a diagram.”
“Summer! You know what I mean . . .” Poppy walked over to the window, which looked out over the construction site next door.
Cooper was back: she could see his truck parked there now, and a new level of energy in the crew working on the roof.
“I haven’t dated a guy in years. And this doesn’t even feel like dating, it’s just . . . Cooper. You know?”
“Nope,” Summer replied cheerfully. Poppy could hear pans clattering in the background, and knew she was already back to work. “But you’ll figure it out. And if you run into problems, just follow my one simple trick.”
“What’s that?”
“Take off all your clothes. And if that doesn’t work, take off all of his, too. Usually that gets you through the bumpy parts.”
Poppy laughed. “Good to know.”
“It’ll be OK.” Summer’s voice turned serious for a moment. “You sound happy, that’s the important thing.”
“Alright.” Poppy took a breath. “No awkwardness, no freak-outs, and when in doubt, get him naked again. I can do that!”
“Atta girl.”
Summer rang off, and Poppy slowly lowered the phone. As she watched through the window, she saw Cooper emerge from the site. He grabbed some lumber from the back of his truck, moving confidently through the chaos back inside.
A text came. Cooper.
That towel’s looking good on you.
Poppy leapt back from the window with a yelp. She didn’t realize he could see her watching!
She took a breath, collecting herself, and typed a reply.
Want to come help me dry off?
I wish. Let me finish the roof today, and I’m all yours.
Poppy felt a happy shiver. See you later. She paused, then added an X.
Bet on it.
Was it just Cooper’s imagination, or was the clock running at half speed? His work day seemed to drag on forever, knowing that Poppy was just across the yard, curled up in that study writing all kinds of steamy scenes . . .
“You want the timber stacked inside?”
Cooper heard a voice and turned. One of his guys was waiting, looking impatient. “Sorry?”