Page 12 of Her Devoted HERO

Look, I appreciate hearing that you have friends who’ve made it for the long haul despite the time apart, but they must have something really special. I don’t think I’m built for special. I’m ordinary and complicated. Mundane even.

Don’t take this as a challenge, just as the truth. Didn’t other women respond to you? I’m sure there are far more suitable matches.

-Poppy

It had taken five days to get home after the mission was completed. Five days where Dex had the dichotomy of Noreen Anders and Poppy rolling around in his head. Thank God, she had responded, it helped wash out the vile memories of the repugnant mother.

After thirty, he had lost count of how many times he read Poppy’s response. It had helped to soothe him when he remembered the look on little Clara Anders’ face when she had sought comfort from her mother and gotten slapped in return.

Even now, it enraged him to think about it, and was why concentrating on Poppy and the here and now was so important.

As soon as they’d docked, he’d gotten the hell out of there damn near as quickly as Aiden and Griff. Hell, Dalton still had his mouth open to give him shit about his abrupt departure, but the door had closed too fast.

He’d composed his response to Poppy while he’d been on the carrier, but he wanted to be in the right headspace so that he could handle her next reply. What’s more, if she didn’t send an e-mail, he wanted to be in San Diego so he could accidentally ‘run into her.’ He’d prefer not to have to hack the dating site, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t meet this woman.

It was nine o’clock in the evening when he hit his townhome. As soon as he turned on the lights, he chuckled. Not only had Andrea watered his plants, he saw that she had added new ones to his ever-expanding greenhouse. It was her way of making sure that she had reasons to drop by. He prayed that none of them were ‘killing plants.’ Sometimes she would purchase exotics that he couldn’t keep alive if his life depended on it. Those she would take home and triage and not bring back. However, a couple she’d told him never did come back to life.

He dumped his duffle in the living room and pulled out his laptop and booted it up. He went to the fridge to see what else Andrea might have waiting for him.

Score!

There was some Yoo-hoo that wasn’t expired. Seriously, the girl spoiled him. He knew the money came from Gramps, but the thought was from his young cousin.

What a gem.

He opened one yellow bottle and took a swig, and snagged a second to take to the couch.

Now.

Finally.

At last.

“Let’s hope this does this trick,” he said to himself.

Poppy,

I’m thirty-two years old. You know that from my profile. I’m old enough to know my own mind and know what and who is suitable. I think you’re funny, complex, and a little bit neurotic. Sorry, Poppy, it fits, and on you Baby, it’s sexy as hell.

All in all, I would say you suit me down to my bones.

Tell me what you need from me to keep this correspondence going. What do I have to say? What do I have to do, to make you take a chance on meeting me? I can e-mail over my Navy performance evaluations. Would you like my grandmother to send a letter of recommendation? It might be a little bit biased. What do I need to do, because Poppy, you need to know, I’m interested in the long game.

-Dex

Fuck! He sure as hell hoped he was reading her right. But every instinct told him that he needed to keep pushing. That if he backed down, she would just stop responding. Pray God he was right.

He sucked down the second bottle of Yoo-hoo, and put his laptop on the coffee table and headed for the shower. He needed one.

***

“Get a move on!” Kenna shouted up the stairs. Seriously, that boy had only two speeds lightning or dawdle. Mornings were always dawdle.

“I can’t find my socks.”

“Austin, there are eighteen pairs of socks in your drawer, what are you talking about?” Kenna demanded as she headed up the stairs.

“They’re my lucky socks.” She heard him say from his room. “I have a wrestling match today. I need my lucky socks.”