Chapter 13
POPPY
I shut the door behind me and lean against it while I listen for the sound of Jett’s footsteps disappearing down the hall. It’s followed by the soft click of his bedroom door, and as soon as I hear it, I release the breath I’ve been holding.
I press my hand to my hot, flushed cheeks. Whether it’s warm from the heat of the fireplace earlier, or the interaction I’ve just had with Jett, I can’t be sure.
It might have been my imagination, but it looked like he might have wanted to kiss me just now, standing outside my door. His eyes flicked down to my mouth for a split second before he listened to whatever it was holding him back.
Now that I have a moment alone, I pull out my phone and call Wren. She picks up almost immediately.
“About fucking time!” The sound from a TV in the background stop suddenly as if someone’s paused it. “I have been dying over here!”
I laugh, and I’m about to start filling her in, but I can’t seem to find the right words.
“How’s Cordelia?” I ask instead, because I’ve been missing her tonight, and because it seems like a safe topic of conversation.
“Cordelia’s fine, we brought her home with us,” Wren tells me. “She and Ruby aren’t exactly besties but they’re tolerating each other.”
“You could have fed her and left her at my place,” I say. Cordelia is a bit like me in that she enjoys her own solitude. She only befriends a select few individuals. Apparently, Jett being one of them.
“We thought about it, but when we saw the competition—” she emphasizes the last word, letting me know that’s the only thing she wants to talk about “—We didn’t know how long you’d be tied up for.”
I am grateful for her making the decision. She’s not wrong that this is going to consume a lot of my life for the foreseeable future.
Brooke was adamant that the wedding has to happen soon. We have to stage an engagement and whatever else she thinks is necessary to make our whirlwind romance seem believable to the press.
Which means I’ll also have to take time away from the café. I make a mental note to call Ethan and make sure he can look after everything.
As much as I hate the thought of not being there, I know he has a handle on things, and this is for the greater good of Thistle + Thorne. A necessary inconvenience.
“Thanks,” I say, and then I launch into the story of how Jett and I figured out we could help one another, how we came to the agreement, what we’re going to have to coordinate over the coming weeks.
I pace around Jett’s guest room, needing a physical outlet for the buzzing energy within me.
When I finish explaining it all, Wren lets out a breath that sounds like she’s blowing it through pursed lips, like it was a physical effort to take all the information in. It’s a fair response.
Wren knows me the best out of anyone, besides Aunt Dahlia, and she’s also known Jett forever. If he and I were the last two people on earth, I don’t think anyone would ever predict we’d marry each other.
She’s quiet for a long while, and I lift the phone away from my ear to check if the connection has gone dead. I only realize that I’m holding myself tight waiting for response once she finally speaks.
“I’m just glad you’re not jumping into a marriage with Neck Beard from your dating app.”
“Me too.” I let out a laugh, releasing the last of the tension. “Although I hope you know I never matched with that guy.”
“Thank god,” Wren answers in agreement. “I never thought I would say this, but I think Jett might be the safest option.”
“He’s kind of my only option,” I add. “Not everyone wants to get married to someone they’ve just met.”
“No, I mean, he’s safe for what you’re trying to do,” she says, and I’m still struggling to follow her point. “It’s never going to get messy because you and Jett would never work for real. I’m just surprised he wants to even pretend to settle down.”
A sharp pang shoots through my chest that I can’t interpret. But Wren has a point. There are a million reasons why Jett and I would never work outside of this agreement.
We’re too different to ever work in a practical sense. I would never be able to keep up with his lifestyle, nor would I want to. There’s no room for the kind of rest and self-care that I need, and he would quickly become bored of my quiet life spent in Heartwood.
It’s not like he would ever be interested in me either. He could have any woman he wants. He’s attractive almost to the point where you have to look away, it’s like looking into the sun.
“You’re probably right,” I agree. “But he’s not who everyone thinks he is, Wren.”
In the short period of time I’ve spent getting closer to Jett, I’ve seen enough to second guess my assumptions about him. To wonder if there’s more to him than meets the eye.
The memory of him covering me with a blanket on the couch and making me a cup of tea after his event ignites something in me that wants to defend him.
“He’s sweet. He can be cocky, and overconfident, sure. But I can see why people gravitate to him.”
“Look, we all know who Jett is. He’s a man-child in kind of an endearing way.
But he’s not husband material. He’s not even boyfriend material,” Wren says playfully.
“Remember back in high school? When he spent all year talking to Maddy and ended up asking Esther to the prom? He’s still doing shit like that, clearly. ”
“Yeah, I remember.” None of this changes the fact that I need a husband. And the only person I’ve found who needs this as bad as I do is Jett. “I just need to know you’re on board, because I need my best friend to stand at the end of the aisle with me.”
“Of course, Pops. Of course I will be there,” Wren answers, her tone shifting so I know she means it, and my shoulders drop with relief. “Have you set a date yet? Are you thinking spring? Summer?”
“Um, we were kind of thinking next week?”