Chapter 19
“When are you going to tell Brandon you’re back?” Sonja sat across from Poppy in the tiny coffee shop two buildings over from the boutique.
“When are you going to tell Henry he’s your baby daddy?”
“Touché.” Sonja tapped Poppy’s coffee cup with her wooden stirrer.
“I don’t know, Sonja. I keep thinking I’m letting my pride get in the way by not letting him know I’m back. But if he wanted me, he would have come after me. He hasn’t even texted once!”
Sonja reached for her second small scone and Poppy grinned. Sonja caught the smile and narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“It’s so fun to see you give in to your hunger in a normal way.” Sonja had always been nutritionally conscious, scolding Poppy’s penchant for street hot dogs and pretzels.
Sonja rolled her eyes. “Trust me, I’m lucky I have an appetite this morning. Most days my head’s in the toilet.”
“I’m sorry. That has to be hard. How far are you?”
“Seven weeks. I only knew as early as I did because I’m like a clock, and I immediately felt different. Deep down, I knew.”
“You’ve got to tell Henry.”
“I know. I also know he’ll figure it out in the next month or two anyway, as we work together.”
“How did it go today?”
Sonja shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about Henry. This is about you and how you’re going to get the guts to go after your happily ever after.”
“Whoa—I don’t do ‘ever after.’ Not after Will.” Even she didn’t believe her words. And Will seemed like a distant memory from a past life.
“Waving the bullshit flag here, girl. Will isn’t worth our breath. Now Brandon, the way he looked at you when you met—I saw something there, Poppy, even in the midst of my anxiety. That’s saying something.”
“He talked me down from a full-out panic attack in that bar, the first night.” She sipped her cappuccino.
“I wondered where you’d gone. Was it instant chemistry?”
“Downright combustible. But we didn’t act on it as soon as you’d think.” Visions of them lovemaking in Brandon’s bedroom, as lightning flashed about the room, sprung tears. “Oh. My. God. This is so inappropriate.” She bunched up her napkin and dabbed at her cheeks, her eyes. Dark mascara and eyeliner streaked the white paper. “Let me guess, I look like a raccoon.”
Sonja was laughing too hard to reply. Poppy waited for her friend to calm down and wondered if pregnancy made every emotion heightened. She couldn’t imagine feeling more vulnerable than she had these past weeks. Because the highs and lows of her emotions since she’d met Brandon were more than she thought she could handle. And she missed the rollercoaster ride.
“Oh, Poppy, you are so in love with this dude.”
“We’ve only known one another for what, a month, barely?”
“Come off it. You know the time doesn’t matter. How did you feel with him, from the start?”
“Safe. Right. As if we’d met again after a long time apart.”
“Bingo.”
* * * *
Poppy placed the half-and-half for her coffee into the small refrigerator she and Bianca had carried up the narrow staircase to the upper-level apartment above the boutique. It wasn’t much smaller than her apartment in New York, and cost a hell of a lot less. It was her temporary home until she made enough to move out to a regular house.
Call Brandon. The thought had become a mantra since the coffee with Sonja.
She wanted to, but couldn’t. Couldn’t put herself at the mercy of a man again.
Poppy wanted a full-fledged life partner. Someone who wanted to fly next to her, not push her, not drag her, but stay afloat together. She wanted Brandon. He was the man who walked side by side with her. Supported her and allowed her to support him. She threw back a large gulp of coffee, stinging her throat. What a mess she’d made of things. She was going to have to convince Brandon that she wanted him, bankrupt and all.
The chime of the boutique front door echoed over the wireless speaker on her tiny table. She and Bianca had figured out a way to allow her to keep track of the shop while upstairs. Since Bianca had stepped out for lunch as Poppy came back from her grocery run, Poppy needed to get downstairs ASAP.
The sound of the desk bell dinging reached her as she reached the last few steps, and she mentally prepared herself to be bright and sunny for her first client of the day.
“Hey! What can I do for you?” She spoke as she cleared the threshold and walked into the main retail space. Her resolve to appear professional and give out only the most positive, I-can-help-you-get-your-life-back vibes shattered when she recognized the man standing next to the pastel display of spring scarves. It wasn’t fair that he looked so vibrant, his tan in deep contrast to the fair colors, the breadth of his frame maddeningly masculine amidst the feminine decor. His smile was relaxed and her gaze could have, should have stopped on his lips. Lips that her skin started to beg for in tiny tremors as she stared at him. But her gaze was inevitably drawn to his, and the second she looked into his blue eyes all the logic for not calling him blew apart.
“Welcome back, Yankee girl.”
* * * *
Poppy froze in place except for the ends of her wavy locks that caught the air from the ceiling fan. They danced around her face, making her appear particularly angelic. Brandon only had to drop his gaze to the swell of her perfect breasts under the pale pink top she wore to remind himself his angel could do more than fly. God, he’d missed her.
“Brandon.”
“That’s me, Poppy. Is this a good time?”
“Of course.” Her gaze flicked to the door and he soaked up her shock as she realized the “open” sign had been turned around to “closed.” He’d locked the door, too. Bianca had been most helpful when he’d talked to her about his idea yesterday.
“Um, I have to keep the shop open, Brandon.”
He walked around the counter, noting that she held her ground. His stubborn, smart, irreplaceable Poppy. “Turns out Bianca had a planned closure this morning for inventory purposes.” He presented her with the bouquet of winter poppies he’d had behind his back. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind, Yankee girl.”
* * * *
Poppy stared at the fuchsia, persimmon, and rouge poppies Brandon held out to her. “How on earth did you find these?” A thrill of delight skipped across her heart.
“You’re back in NOLA, Poppy. Anything is possible.”
She blinked back tears and brushed one off her cheek. “I’ve been meaning to tell you I’m back in town.”
“Uh huh.” His hands moved to her shoulders after she accepted the bouquet. “I’ve never pegged you as gun-shy, Poppy.”
“I’m not. But it had to be right. I couldn’t just show up at your door and ask if the guest room’s still available, could I?”
“Sure you could. But it’s not.” He kissed her forehead. “Available.”
Her knees quivered and her belly swooped in time to the reverberation his touch set off. “It’s not?”
“Nope. Turns out, only the master bedroom is open for new residents.” He traced her cheek with his finger, his eyes half-lidded.
“What’s the asking rent?”
“Depends.” He gently removed the flowers from her grasp and placed them on the counter. His fingers accidentally hit the service bell and Poppy realized they were in full view of the storefront window.
“Brandon, anyone can see us.”
“Take me up to your place, Poppy.”
She led the way to the stairs that were just off her studio office, out of sight of any errant sightseers.
“Poppy, hang on.” Brandon turned her around to face him.
“Yes?” She could barely think straight, her body hummed so loudly with want for him. With need.
With love.
“Before we go up there, you need to know something. This isn’t picking up where we left off. It’s the start of something new for both of us. I can’t guarantee it’s all going to be Southern charm, but it will be us. We are the most important thing to me. Not my boatbuilding, not your styling. Us. I love you, Poppy.” He’d beaten her to it, and she loved him even more for it. It was never going to be completely “even” with Brandon. It was going to be hot and cold, rough and serene, sexy and comforting. It was going to be everything. Poppy didn’t try to keep her tears back. Trusting someone meant you could show it all to them.
“I love you, Brandon. And you need to know that I’m not agreeing to anything just because we’re both in the same place. And while you’re the most important person in my life, and always will be, I came back for me, first. I’m at home here, more than I’ve ever been anywhere else.”
“So you agree we could work on making it our home, together?”
Her breath hitched, preventing her from answering immediately. Instead she threw her arms around his neck, hanging on for sheer love. “Oh, Brandon, yes, yes, yes!”
He pushed her away only enough to see her face. She loved how his eyes soaked her in as if she were the only woman in the world that mattered. “I play for keeps, Poppy.” His gruff declaration made her smile.
“Good thing, as you’ve got me for a good long while.” She kissed him with all the love that poured out of her heart for him. She’d come home. To New Orleans, to herself. To Brandon.
He kissed her back and within seconds the kiss went from a declaration of their commitment to the hot need they were familiar with.
Brandon never did see Poppy’s loft apartment until later that morning.
The End