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“You really should start wearing a bell around your neck,” she said easily. “And here I thought a kid wandering off some day would be my biggest issue.” Poppy’s cart bumped the front of mine, and her eyes widened when she saw the contents. “My goodness, I didn’t peg you as an impulseshopper. Are we facing down an apocalypse I don’t know about?”
I ignored her, lifting my chin toward her cart. “Did he sell you shit we don’t need?”
“Undoubtedly. But he was so sweet, I couldn’t say no.”
“Not sure I’ve ever had that problem,” I told her.
Poppy rolled her eyes, but a glint of affection was buried in her expression, so I decided to take it as a compliment. She walked around the carts to show me two more paint chips, each one starting with light sky blue and ending in a deep, rich navy. “What about these?” she asked, tapping on the middle color of each swatch.
“Whatever you want,” I said.
Tilting the swatches toward the light coming in through the front windows, Poppy didn’t notice the way I was staring at her. The light dusting of freckles over her nose started to come in more during the warm weather, a sure sign she spent more time in the sun. There was one above the right side of her mouth, and my pulse sped up the longer I studied the lush, pink curves of her lips.
What would they taste like?
Sweet. I knew that for sure.
Sinful. Didn’t doubt that one either.
Poppy would taste like forever, and the truth of it terrified me to my core. The way I wanted it did too.
What would she do if I curved my hand around the back of her neck and simply … kissed her?
God, the way my chest ached the longer I thought about it. What if I went my entire life and didn’t know the feel of her lips on mine?
It was inexcusable. Unpardonable.
If I’d missed that opportunity out of habit or fear or some ridiculous notion that kissing her would somehow make it easier to let her walk away.
“This one,” Poppy declared.
I blinked. “Sure. It’s great.”
She glanced up at me. “Did I lose you there?”
“Just thinking about something else.”
Instead of sweeping away that disappointed feeling, I let it settle deep under my skin, knowing full well that if I ever had the opportunity to kiss this woman, I’d be fucking taking it.
Poppy smiled. “Dreaming of a blue bedroom, are we?”
Tugging the paint swatch from her hand, I checked the name on the one she’d chosen. Smoke. A bit farther down the chip, I studied the deepest color and made a small humming noise. “I wanted a dark room like this when I was younger,” I said. My thumb rubbed against the dark greenish-blue on the bottom.
“You didn’t get it?”
Lost for a moment in the memory, I shook my head. “My mom thought I’d get sick of it after a year. Didn’t want to hassle with it.” I swallowed hard, the memory crawling up my throat like a spider coming through a pipe. “Couldn’t blame her, really. My mom worked two jobs most of my life. She was always busy and tired.”
The money to buy paint and the time necessary to do it were a luxury she didn’t really have.
Poppy’s shoulder brushed against my bicep when she shifted out of the way of someone going down the aisle, my eyes falling closed at the feel of her skin on mine.
“Does she live around here?”
“No.”
The thoughtful twist to Poppy’s lips told me this conversation wasn’t quite over. “Would you want me to invite her to the baby shower my sisters are throwing this summer?”
A cynical laugh threatened to slip past even the staunchest of my defenses, but I swallowed it down. “Not sure that’s necessary, no.”
