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“It’s not going to bite,” I told her wryly.
A crack of thunder made her tense, and her eyes pinched shut as she set a hand on her chest and laughed under her breath. “Sorry, the storm has me jumpier than I thought.”
“I thought you might be.” The words came out lower than intended, a slightly desperate edge making my voice husky like I’d chewed nails on my ride over.
Her brow furrowed delicately as she studied me, then slowly reached out for the bag gripped in my hand. Her fingers brushed over mine, and she swallowed visibly before opening it up.
Poppy’s mouth fell open as she stared down into the bag. “How did you…?” She shook her head a little. “How did you know?”
“You told me.”
Her eyes snapped up to mine. “I did?”
I nodded. “When you got to my house that night.” I cleared my throat. “You told me about you and your dad and storms.” The edge of her white teeth dug into her lush, pink bottom lip as she stared up at me. “I didn’t want…” I paused, trying to figure out how to say it. “I hated the thought of you sitting here alone when it started storming.”
The words didn’t come easily, but I said them instead of locking them up or holding them back. Each step forward felt a little bit less scary.
“So you drove in the middle of a storm to bring me ice cream,” she said slowly, like she was trying to understand exactly what was happening.
With a tight jaw and an ache in my throat, I managed a nod.
Poppy’s eyes were huge in her face, searching mine so deeply that it dissolved that ache, melting it away bit by bit by bit.
“Will you come in and have some with me?” she asked, chin tilted and gaze direct.
I think she expected me to say no. That I was just dropping it off, and I’d retreat behind the safety of our established lines.
I took a step closer, and she sucked in a sharp breath at my nearness. “I’d love to,” I said roughly.
Poppy’s eyelids fluttered slightly as she backed up, a tiny shake of her head like she couldn’t quite get her bearings.
I left my boots by the front door, and I followed her into the house, breathing in the scent of her that already lingered in the air. The couch and chairs faced the flickering TV over the mantel, and the fuzzy blanket tucked in the corner told me where Poppy’s favorite seat was. Behind one of the chairs, she had a soft lamp on, which cast a warm light over the room. She’d lit a candle in the kitchen—something clean and citrusy. Boxes were still stacked in the dining roombehind the circular table, but the house already looked like a home.
In one day, she’d managed to fill the space with some inviting energy that I’d been unable to master in the twelve years I’d been in my place.
Poppy set down the bag and pulled open the drawer in front of her, laughing quietly when she had to open the one next to it. “Still don’t know where my silverware is,” she said, handing me a spoon. She fished a couple of bowls from the cabinet to the left of the sink, and as she reached up to grab them, I couldn’t stop myself from admiring the curve of her backside in the shorts, the lean length of her legs. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun at the nape of her neck, tendrils of dark hair around her face and shoulders.
“What sounds good?” she asked, eyes locked on the two containers of ice cream.
You. I’ll take you on the counter.
Roughly, I swallowed, tapping the top of the cookie dough. “That one, please.”
“I should have known,” she said lightly. “The one with cookies in it.”
“You know, I never thought I could be turned off from cookies, but Ivy came really close to proving me wrong.”
Poppy exhaled a laugh, shaking her head as she pried the top off the first container. Using an ice cream scoop with a mint-green handle, she dished up a couple of scoops into a bowl and pushed it toward me, sucking a small spot of ice cream off her thumb.
There was no tearing my eyes away from that mouth.
As she dished up the chocolate into a second bowl, I noticed her rotating her ankle with a slight grimace on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
Her eyebrows popped up. “Oh, nothing. My feet just hurt from moving this weekend. I didn’t wear the right shoes towork, and I was in the warehouse more than usual today. We had drama with some of the new software, which was messing up all the shipping processes.”
Dropping a spoon into each bowl, then setting the ice cream scoop into the sink, Poppy turned to put the ice cream into the freezer. I stepped back to let her lead the way.
