Chapter 18
“He’s not as bad as you think he is. And you kissed him—in front of an audience! It doesn’t change anything,” Poppy said, giving herself a stern lecture. The bathroom mirror was still foggy from her shower, so she swiped her hand in a face-sized circle. What she saw concerned her.
A goofy smile, bright eyes, and glowing features. Then there was how light her heart felt. It started when Decker had hugged her and it went up like a helium balloon when she’d kissed him. But the sweetest part was when he said he had her.
It had been a long time since someone was there to catch her. Opal would forever be her rock, but lately Opal seemed to be slowing down in her age. Which was why Poppy had taken on the role of the protector. Opal protected Poppy for years, now it was her turn. Only tonight’s protector was Decker.
The way he held her, called his family to arrange care for Opal, even lacing his fingers through hers on the ride home, it all had something deep in her soul that had once been snuffed out flickering to life.
And that excited her as much as it scared her.
If anything, tonight showed her just how quickly life could change.
Sure, Opal just suffered a sprain, but it could have been worse.
And Poppy knew firsthand how quickly things could go from bad to debilitating.
That’s how it had been with her mom. After the crash, she’d battled to stay alive for Poppy, but in the end the injuries had been too great.
Within minutes she had passed. Poppy still wasn’t sure which was worse, a long, drawn-out goodbye or an instantaneous one.
But she did know one thing. In a few weeks she’d have to say goodbye to Decker, and she wasn’t sure how.
“Which is why you’re going to act like nothing has changed and you’re going to crawl into that bed and go straight to sleep.
And you’re not going to look into his mesmerizing eyes.
You’re certainly not going to look at that sexy mouth.
And let’s send a plea to the Wish Fairy that he’s wearing a shirt. ”
With a fortifying breath, she creaked open the bathroom door and nearly jumped out of her pajamas when Decker said, “The Wish Fairy didn’t answer your wish.”
He was sitting against the headboard, shirtless. Her eyes dropped to his chest, and he made his pecs bob up and down—sweet baby Jesus—letting her know she was caught staring. “You, on the other hand, are wearing armor. What’s the matter, Angel, don’t trust yourself?”
She looked down at her sweats and baggy shirt. Thrusting her shoulders back, she said, “I’m just cold.”
His gaze ran the length of her, and she felt a shiver follow in its tracks. “Maybe you are cold,” he said. “Or perhaps turned on?”
She looked down and dammit, her nipples were poking through her shirt, ready to break out their party poppers.
“You wish.”
“Well, the Wish Fairy is listening to one of us, because you aren’t wearing a bra.” She covered herself with folded arms. “You’re only making it worse.”
She looked down and her cleavage was up around her neck. She climbed into bed, nuzzling her feet beneath a sleeping Taters, then placed two pillows between them like the Great Wall of China and laid down.
“Goodnight, Decker,” she said and flicked off the light.
“Goodnight, Angel.”
Silence fell over them as an intimate darkness blanketed the room. A sliver of moonlight broke through the part in the curtains. Poppy was so exhausted, even her bones ached. She closed her eyes but her mind was spinning so fast with possibilities that they sprang back open.
Possibilities like crawling over and snuggling deep into his chest. Or, perhaps, getting rid of the wall altogether and letting her fingers glide over the ridges of his eight-pack. Maybe even kiss him again, now that the emergency had passed, and see what he did next.
Only, she knew what came next. Sex. Sex came next. And if she were bold enough, she might come, too.
“I can hear you thinking,” he said, his voice gravelly in the night air.
“There’s something I want to tell you.”
The bed shifted and he came up on his elbow. Even in the darkness she could make out those cobalt blue eyes. “Does this have anything to do with you being cold?”
“No, I— Yes, um— Stop distracting me!”
“Stop talking about being cold. It brings an amazing image to mind.”
She picked up the pillow and smacked him in the face. But he was too fast and palmed it out of her hand and threw it on the floor.
“That’s my wall.”
“You broke the first brick. I just put it someplace more useful.”
“The floor is useful?”
“Yup. Watch.” He took the other pillow and stacked it against the first and made a teepee. “Taters. Floor.”
Taters farted but didn’t move.
“Floor or no treat tomorrow.”
At the threat, Taters leapt over Poppy, cleared the mattress, and landed on the floor in one fluid movement. Then he nuzzled his nose between the opening of the pillow fort and let out a yawn. Withing seconds he was snoring.
“Pretty useful. Now your feet won’t fall asleep.”
“But now there’s no wall.” And she needed that wall for what she was about to say. She felt too exposed otherwise. Then again, wasn’t that what this was all about, exposing her vulnerable side?
“I wanted to say thank you for tonight,” Poppy began. “I know I can be stubborn and difficult, but instead of pushing me you held my hand through it. No one has done that except Opal.” Her voice wobbled on the last word.
“Funny, because I also wanted to say thank you.”
“For what?”
“Letting me be a part of your team. It’s been a while since I’ve felt needed or even wanted. Ever since my injury I’ve just been floating around, and I can’t seem to get anything right. Not with my work or my brother. But with you, tonight, I felt like I got it right.”
No longer able to keep her distance, she reached out and took his hand. “You got it more than right. You got it perfect.”
“Perfect? Are you sure you aren’t thinking of some other guy?”
“Maybe a few weeks ago, but not now. Which brings me to the next thing I wanted to say. I wanted to apologize for misjudging you.”
“You already have,” he assured her.
“Not for the tape, but for thinking you were just some playboy with zero depth.”
The bed dipped as he shrugged a shoulder. “It’s no biggie, I’m used to it by now.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be. No one should be judged,” she said vehemently.
He was quiet so long she thought the conversation was over. Then his voice was hushed when he said, “Thank you for that.”
Was it possible no one had ever said that to him before? The vulnerability in his tone suggested as much and that broke her heart. And that brought on a wave of guilt. He’d shoved down all these feelings of being a victim because no one had ever validated them before.
“After my dad had his stroke, my brother had to take over the company. He blames me for going off to the NHL and living out my dream.”
“No one has to do anything. Everything’s a choice.”
“Well, I chose to walk away from my family when they needed me most.”
“To go live out your dream that you’d worked a lifetime to achieve. Everyone’s entitled to their dream. No one has to take over their parents’ company. Like I said, it’s a choice. Why aren’t you allowed to have your dream?”
“The last person who said that to me was my dad.”
“How old were you when he had his stroke?”
“I was eighteen. In the middle of the draft for the NHL. He didn’t get to see my first game.”
Poppy folded her hands under her cheek and turned all the way on her side to face him. “It’s hard when we reach milestones and our family’s not with us. How did he feel about your hockey dream?”
Decker ran a finger along her jawline. “It wasn’t my dad’s dream for me to build a company; he wanted me to play hockey. It wasn’t Brian’s dream, either, but because he was a few years older he stepped up, and all that responsibility fell to him.”
“That’s on him. Not you.”
“Brian’s a master at deflecting and putting the blame on other people.”
She laid her hand over his and stared into his eyes so he could see the truth there. “Once again, that’s his choice.”
“And what do you choose, Angel?”
“Choose?”
“The way you’re looking at me says you want to pick back up where we left off the other night.”
She absently touched her lips. “My face says all that?”
He leaned over her, resting palms on either side of her head, the mattress dipping under the weight. His body was above her. Not touching, but close enough that if she were to move slightly their good parts would line up.
“It says a lot more than that.”
“Like what?”
“You know what. But if you say stop, I’ll stop.”
Did she want him to stop? If they went there, it would be opening a door that could never be shut again.
“If you want the pillows back, just say the word.”
Poppy cupped his jaw, the scruff closer to a beard than a five o’clock shadow. Ignoring all the red flags flapping in the wind, and the fact that her lady parts had long ago turned in their resignation, she heard herself whisper, “Fuck the pillows.”
“I’d rather fuck you.”