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It was the first time I’d ever walked through the house and imagined myself there too, but I ruthlessly snipped the thread holding on to that idea.
Poppy continued through the room, and I pulled in a sharp inhale of orange blossoms through my nose.
The main bathroom got a quick, appreciative glance—especially the large soaker tub tucked into the corner next to the big shower and long vanity. We left the main bedroom quietly, me trailing after her like a lovesick fucking puppy. The third bedroom was the smallest, but when she walked in, her eyes got all big and soft.
“Oh, this would be the nursery,” she breathed.
The way she said it had my chest cracking wide fucking open. Because Poppy could look not that far into the future and see all of this so clearly. Where the baby would sleep and where she’d read in the morning. She could close her eyes and imagine being a mother as easily as breathing, while I was hanging on by the skin of my fingernails with no clue how this would work or if I’d know how to do any of it. From the moment she showed up at my door, I was following her lead, wasn’t I? I was so fucking lost, and the only thing that made sense was her.
“Yeah?”
My voice was rough, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Yeah. You can see the cherry tree in the backyard. And it’s got the best view of the meadow, too.” She closed her eyes, spreading her fingers wide over her stomach and breathing deeply. “Jax, this is…”
But she didn’t finish.
And I didn’t need her to.
It was perfect. She’d love it. She’d make it a home, and Henry would’ve loved that too.
Because I knew exactly how big this thing was that I was offering her. And fuck, did I want her to take me up on it. There was so much I couldn’t do. So much I couldn’t be for her, no matter how much I wanted.
This I could do, though.
“I need to think about it,” she finally finished, opening her eyes. They were bright and glossy, but no tears fell. “I can’t rush into big decisions.”
“Why not?”
She laughed.
I held her gaze unflinchingly. “I think this is the right place for you. Can’t you feel it when you’re here?”
Poppy blew out a slow breath. “Yes. So do you … would you be the property manager?”
“Sort of.”
“I’m starting to think you are genetically predisposed to cagey answers.” She shook her head.
“Oh come on, I think that’s one of my most interesting traits.”
Her eyes searched mine. “No one warned me how stubborn you are underneath all that quiet.”
My heartbeat stuttered in my ears, loud and erratic. “I think you already knew.”
Her smile was mysterious—Sphynx-like and so intuitive that my hands ached to reach for her. “Maybe I did,” she murmured. “But it’s nice to know we can still learn things about each other, right?”
Now, it was my turn not to answer. There were too many things I wanted to say.
Wanted to. Couldn’t.
Wouldn’t.
“Can I walk you out? Or do you want to keep looking?”
She took one last glance around the room. “No, I think I’ve seen enough.”
Chapter 25
