Poppy Maysen.
Holy fuck.
Poppy Maysen was standing in my dojo.
“Hi, Sensei.”
“Hey,” I replied automatically, turning from Poppy to acknowledge a student as he walked past.
It didn’t take long for my gaze to wander back to Poppy. She was standing frozen against the wall, staring at me like she’d seen a ghost.
How long had it been? Five years? The last time I’d seen her, she’d been asleep on her living room couch, trembling from the nightmare I’d delivered to her doorstep.
And now she was here, dressed in gym clothes and waiting to take a karate class. To take my karate class.
“Hey, Cole.” Danny, a teenaged black belt, slapped my arm as he walked by.
I was standing right in the way of people coming and going to the locker rooms, staring at Poppy like a fool. “Hi, Danny.”
I tore my eyes away from her again and shuffled aside. When I glanced back over, she hadn’t moved.
What was going on in her head? Was she about to bolt? My face had probably triggered an onslaught of bad memories. And me standing here, gawking at her, probably wasn’t helping.
Shit. I forced one foot in front of the other, giving her a slight nod as I disappeared into the men’s locker room. If she was still in the waiting room by the time I got out, I’d be shocked, but I’d say hello. Maybe a few minutes would give her—and me—a chance to get over the surprise of being in the same room once again.
“Hi, Cole Sensei.”
“Hey, boys.” I greeted a couple of the younger kids in the dressing room as they tied on their shoes. “Did you learn anything new today?”
The kids started yammering on about the new punches they’d learned in class tonight, though neither could remember the Japanese names. I tuned them out, dropping my duffel bag on a bench and raking a hand through my hair.
Poppy Maysen.
What had she been doing these last five years? What had become of her life? I hadn’t kept tabs on her after that awful night, but now I wished I had.
She was just as stunning now as she had been years ago.
Loose waves of long, ginger hair. Skin as flawless and creamy as melted ice cream. For a redhead, Poppy didn’t have the typical smattering of freckles—just a few on the bridge of her nose. And those cornflower-blue eyes. Still hauntingly beautiful, just like they’d been on her porch. I’d never forget the moment the fire behind them had smoldered out.
“Bye, Sensei!”
“Bye,” I called as the boys walked out the door. Hopefully they hadn’t said anything important because I hadn’t registered a word they’d said.
Fuck. Poppy Maysen.
I ran into people all the time from the past, but none of them had shocked me this much. And if I didn’t get a handle on it, I’d be falling all over myself in class.
Rubbing my hands over my face, I slid the sunglasses out of my collar and tossed them on the bench. Then I zipped open my bag and hurried to change from jeans and a black polo into my white gi. With my black belt tied around my hips, I sucked in another long breath. A few other guys were changing, but I kept my back to them, needing just a minute to get my head on right.
Had she found a way to spark that fire behind her eyes again? I really wanted to find out. That was, if she wasn’t already miles away from the dojo, never to return again.
“See you out there.” I nodded to the other guys and pushed the locker room door open.
Poppy was still standing in her spot against the wall. Her eyes darted between the people crowded in the waiting area. It was loud as everyone visited before class, and she hadn’t noticed me slip out of the locker room. And despite her obvious nerves, she kept a small smile on her stoic face.
Graceful strength.
Poppy had a graceful strength. I’d thought the same all those years ago. I’d never seen a person so devastated, yet collected. She hadn’t screamed or cried or lashed out. She’d just . . . kept it together. In all my time with the Bozeman Police Department, I’d never met anyone—cop or civilian—who had handled a trauma like she had.
Poppy hadn’t noticed me yet so I took my opening and slid into the empty wall space at her side. I leaned down and spoke softly. “Hi.”
Her face whipped to mine, then she swallowed and blinked. While I’d been in the dressing room, she had apparently steeled herself for our next encounter. “Hello.”
Hello. Even her voice affected me. Five years ago, the words she’d spoken had all been full of pain. But now? Her voice was so clear. There was nothing soft or timid about it. Nothing jaded or raspy. It was the purest voice I’d ever heard.
Nonchalantly wiping the sweat from my palm, I held out my hand. “I’m Cole Goodman.”
“Poppy Maysen.”
I nodded. “I remember.”
Poppy’s eyes darted to my hand still outstretched between us and back up to my face. Then, slowly, her delicate fingers fit themselves into mine. The minute her soft skin brushed my calloused palm, a zing of electricity traveled up my arm.
While I froze, Poppy’s breath hitched.
We stared at each other, still holding hands, and probably looking like crazy people to the other students standing around, but I didn’t care. Not when Poppy’s hand was still in mine and she hadn’t made a move to take it back.
“Cole. Got a sec?” Robert called out from his office.
“Yeah.” I kept Poppy’s hand for another second before letting it go and walking to the office. I resented every step away from her side.
Robert, my instructor and the owner of the dojo, was sitting at his desk with a pair of reading glasses perched precariously on his nose as he flipped through a stack of messages. His hair had started to thin last year so he’d shocked us all this week by coming to the dojo with a freshly shaven scalp. I’d been taking karate from Robert for nearly two decades, ever since I’d been in high school, and his new look was still throwing me off.
“What’s up?” I took the chair in front of his desk.
“Can you take that new gal tonight? She called to try the intro class but I kind of spaced it. I’d teach her but I need to spend some time working with the brown belts tonight to see who might be ready to advance.”
“You got it.” I hoped it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable for her because I wanted some extra time with Poppy, a chance to learn what she’d been up to in the last five years. To see how she’d recovered from that night. Maybe figure out why I’d reacted so strongly to her after only thirty seconds.
“How’s work?” Robert asked, taking my thoughts away from Poppy.
“Busy. We kicked off the new drug task force today.”
“Good. It’s about time.”
Overdue, really. As a former cop, Robert knew the drug problem in the area was becoming unmanageable. He’d retired from the county sheriff’s department years ago, making karate his full-time job, but the drug trade had been escalating even when he’d been on the force.
“Did that idiot chief of police at least put you in charge of the task force?”
I grinned. “He did.”
Robert grinned back. “Maybe your dad’s not so stupid after all.”
I chuckled. Robert and Dad never missed a chance to jest with one another, even if the other wasn’t in the room. Their friendship was the reason I’d started karate at the age of seven—Dad liked to bring me along when he met up with Robert to practice.
“Robert Sensei? Can I—” Olivia came into the office from the lobby but stopped short. “Oh, um, hey, Cole Sensei.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and studied the floor, trying to hide her red cheeks.
“Whatcha need, Olivia?” Robert asked.
“I’m, uh . . .” She fidgeted for a moment, looking between the floor and the door. When her eyes came back to mine, she spun around and left.
“Jeez,” Robert muttered. “Not another one.”
I held up my hands. “Hey, it’s not my fault.”
I couldn’t help that Olivia had developed a bit of a crush on me this past year. Her and her seventeen-year-old friends. Not only was it fucking weird—I’d taught some of them since they were little kids—it was pissing Robert off because they’d all huddle in the back of the dojo and giggle.
“You could help me out here.” Robert stood from his chair.
“How? Stop coming here?” I couldn’t help the face I was born with and I damn sure wasn’t going to let my body go just because of some twitterpated teenagers. “I basically ignore them already. Do you want me to be a dick to them and scar them for life?”
“No,” he muttered. “At least bring Aly in every once in a while so these girls can see you’re taken.”
Not happening.
Now wasn’t the time to give Robert an update, but Aly wouldn’t be at the dojo anytime soon, at least not on my arm.
I stood and followed Robert back into the waiting area. He kept walking into the dojo, bowing in the doorway before he entered, but I stopped in front of Poppy. “We’re going to get started.”
She nodded and forced a nervous smile. “Sounds good.”
“You’ll be with me tonight.”
Her eyes got a bit wider. “Okay.”
Was she scared to be around me or just anxious about the class? Probably both, but I didn’t want to make her even more uncomfortable, so I jumped right into teacher mode. “We bow before we enter or leave the dojo.”
“Got it.” She nodded and pushed off the wall.
I took the lead, demonstrating the proper technique before stepping inside and onto the mats. Poppy followed, maintaining a three-foot distance between us as she took in the space.
“You’ll be over there to bow in.” I pointed to the back wall. “Just follow the instructions from Robert Sensei. After that, we’ll do a workout. Do as much as you can but don’t go overboard. Then you and I will work together the rest of the class. Sound okay?”
She nodded but didn’t meet my eyes.
“Poppy.” Her eyes rose to mine when I whispered her name. “It will be more fun if you just relax.”
“I’m not really here for fun, I’m here . . . I’m just out of my comfort zone.” As she spoke, she flailed her hands, her wrists spinning in circles.
Poppy Maysen talked with her hands.
And it was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen.
Unable to hide my grin, I stepped into her space, savoring the way her breath caught. She felt the electricity between us just as strongly as I did.
“If it gets to be too much, just give me a signal. Maybe that wrist spin thing you just did.” Her eyes narrowed and I smiled wider. “Easy, killer. I’m just teasing you.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Do you tease all of your new students?”
“Maybe.” I smiled. “So, what have you—”
“Line up!” Robert called.
Poppy spun around and dashed to the line with the other students, and I joined the instructors up front as class got underway. The entire time, my eyes stayed locked on Poppy. She was doing her best to hide it, but she kept glancing at me too.
That was, until her attention became solely focused on trying to keep up with the workout.
Robert had gone back into the office and picked a younger instructor, Danny, to lead the exercise. The punk had taken it as free rein to torture everyone. I wasn’t having a hard time keeping up—hell, I’d barely broken a sweat—but Poppy and everyone else on that side of the room looked miserable.
There was no denying Poppy was fit. In those tight leggings and second-skin tank top, her body left little to the imagination, but a karate workout was a different animal. And Danny was pushing too hard, even for some of the senior students.
“That’s enough,” I told Danny when he called for another set of fifty push-ups. We’d already done a hundred.
“Having trouble keeping up, Cole Sensei?” The little shit puffed out his chest.
“That’s good, everyone,” I called, overruling Danny with a pointed stare. “Go ahead and get a drink.”
Poppy pushed up from the floor to walk to the water fountain. Her face was flushed and her forehead sweaty, but damn if those pink cheeks didn’t make her look even more beautiful. The image of her lying next to me in bed, her cheeks flushed from a different kind of workout, popped into my head.
Fuck.
The last thing I needed was to get a hard-on under my gi. Luckily, the top hung low enough to hide my quick adjustment while everyone was in line for water.
“Now that’s an ass worth squeezing,” Danny whispered, his eyes glued to Poppy’s ass. I wasn’t sure if he’d meant to say it out loud, but I saw red. He was right, her ass was spectacular, but he didn’t get to say that out loud.
“Watch it, Danny.” I clamped my hand on his shoulder and dragged him out of the line. “You went too far with that workout. We don’t push that hard when we’ve got guest students and you know it. I was willing to let that go, but you just crossed the line. You’ve got suicide drills and pull-ups for the rest of class. If I see you slacking, then we’ll stay late and do another workout until you learn the limits. Understood?”
His face paled. “I’m sorry, Sensei.”
“We treat women with respect, inside and outside of this dojo. Think it. Don’t speak it.” I pointed to the far side of the room and loomed to my full six-foot-two height. “Now get to work.”
He nodded, his shoulders drooping as he walked away.
After everyone else had taken a drink, I slurped some water from the fountain and then motioned for Poppy to join me in the far corner of the room.
She wiped her brow with the back of her left hand, her wedding rings glinting in the overhead light.
“It’s okay for tonight,” I pointed to her ring finger, “but next time, you’ll want to take those off. Better to leave them in the locker room than jam your finger and have them cut off at the hospital.”
“Um . . .” She dropped her hand and inspected the emerald engagement ring and white-gold wedding band. “I haven’t taken these off since Jamie . . . you know.”
“Oh, uh, right.” I guess I didn’t need to ask if she’d gotten remarried—not if she was still wearing her late husband’s rings. “Well, just think about it for next time. Are you doing okay after the workout?”
“I’m alive and I haven’t fallen on my face.” She smiled. “That’s a win for me tonight.”
I chuckled. “Then we’ll make sure you get through the next thirty minutes on your feet and call it good.”
“I’d like that.”
I spent the next few minutes teaching her about her stances and how to take the proper semicircular steps. When she had that down, I asked her to make a fist.
“Like this?”
“Not quite.” I took her hands in mine to adjust her grip, but the moment we touched, I forgot all about karate.
My eyes locked with hers as both of us froze, and the other people in the dojo disappeared. Just like that handshake in the hallway, her touch blocked out the world and sent fire blazing through my veins.
And right to my cock.
I broke away fast, needing a moment to think asexual thoughts before I made things really awkward. “Um . . .” I motioned her forward. “Go ahead and practice a few more steps like I just showed you.”
“Sure.” Her musical voice didn’t help my growing erection.
While she stepped toward the mirrors, I searched my brain for unsexy images and did my best to avoid staring at her slender legs. I stared at Robert’s bald head. The sweat drops on the mats. Danny’s hairy feet. I rotated through them all and by the time Poppy walked back to my side, the swelling in my boxers was at least manageable.
“Was that okay?”
“You did great. I’m going to go get us some pads.” I gave her a wide berth as I walked to the stack of pads on the far wall, but her vanilla scent seemed to follow.
“Get it together,” I muttered as I grabbed one large pad and one small.
“What was that, Sensei?” a green belt asked.
“Oh, uh, I said your kata is really coming together.”
“Thanks!”
I did my best not to touch Poppy through the rest of class, but even with the pads as a barrier, we brushed every now and then. By the time our thirty minutes were up, I was desperate for a cold shower.
“How’d she do?” Robert asked, joining us before class ended.
“Good.” I cleared the block in my throat. “She’s a natural.”
“Ha,” Poppy scoffed. “More like a klutz. I kicked his fingers more than I kicked the pad.” Her big blue eyes looked up to me for her hundredth apology. “Sorry.”
“Like I said, I’m fine. It didn’t hurt a bit.”
She turned to Robert and smiled. “Thank you for having me tonight.”
“Glad you joined us. Come back anytime.”
“I appreciate the offer and letting me try this out, but I don’t think karate is for me.”
Robert nodded. “Fair enough. It’s not for everyone. If you ever change your mind, you’re always welcome.” He shook hands with Poppy and then called for the entire class to bow out.
Without a word, Poppy scurried to the door, her hair swishing across her back as she disappeared into the locker room.
The sight of her retreating hit me in the gut. She wasn’t coming back to the dojo and I didn’t want to wait another five years to see her again. So instead of visiting with the other students, I hurried to the lobby and waited for Poppy to come out of the ladies’ room.
It didn’t take her more than a minute to emerge into the hall with keys in hand and sneakers on her feet. The moment she spotted me, her feet stopped short. “Oh, hi.”
“I, um . . . I just wanted to say it was nice to see you.”
“Thanks.” She took a few steps toward the door.
“Wait,” I blurted before she could leave. “Can I see you again? To catch up.”
She stopped and turned, a war waging behind her eyes. She didn’t want to say yes. She didn’t want to say no. “I don’t know.”
It was honest.
Honest, I could work with.
“Will you at least think about it?”
“All right.” She started for the door again, but just before she touched the handle, she paused, speaking over her shoulder. “Thank you for staying with me that night.”
Then she was gone before I could even say you’re welcome.
“Fuck,” I grumbled and rubbed my face.
“What was that?” Robert had appeared by my side.
“Oh, nothing. Just a long day. I’d better get changed.”
I hustled into the locker room, not wanting to stick around for the chatter tonight, and waved good-bye before heading home.
What I needed was a beer—or three—and some time alone to think.
Something about Poppy was different, and it wasn’t just the extreme circumstances we’d met under. No woman had ever stirred my blood like she had tonight, not even Aly.
Aly, whose car was sitting in my driveway, blocking the garage, when I pulled up to my house.
“Damn it. Not tonight.” I shook my head, parked my black truck on the street and stepped out just as she was coming through the front door with a box in her arms.
“Hey,” Aly said, walking down the steps from the porch.
I crossed the short sidewalk and met her by her car. “Hey.”
“Sorry. I was trying to be gone before you got home.”
“It’s okay. Here, let me help.” I reached out and lifted the box from her arms.
“Thanks.” She opened the back door of her car and I set the box inside. When I stood, she was twisting my house key off her chain. “Here you go.”
Our fingers brushed when I took it from her hand, but I didn’t get even a minor jolt. Touching Aly, the woman I’d dated for two years and lived with for six months, wasn’t anything compared to the touch I’d felt earlier with Poppy.
It cemented the decision I’d made last week. Breaking up with Aly hadn’t been easy, but it had been right.
“Cole.” She stepped closer, looking up at me with pleading eyes. The same eyes that she used whenever she wanted me to fuck her senseless.
“No, Aly.” I stepped back. “We both know that would just make this harder.”
Her shoulders tensed as she backed away. “Harder for me, you mean? Because you’re just fine. One week after we’re broken up and you’re back to normal. Like the last two years together meant nothing. Meanwhile, I’m living in my sister’s guest room, crying myself to sleep every night.”
“I’m—”
“Sorry. I know.” She slammed the car door closed and spun on her heel as she rounded the hood. She threw open the driver’s door but paused, looking at me from over her car. Then she waited.
“Take care of yourself, Aly.”
She huffed, then got in the car and backed out of the driveway, wiping tears off her cheeks.
I waited for her car to disappear down the street before going inside. Standing in my living room, I swept my eyes across the furniture. The toss pillows were gone. Aly had taken those, along with the throw blanket she had always used when we were watching TV.
I fucking hated that I’d hurt her. She was a good woman, just not the one for me. After two years, I’d never felt like she was the one. I’d never pictured asking her to marry me. Not once. We’d been on and off for our first year and a half together, but then she’d lost her roommate and moved in with me. Even after six months of Aly telling me she loved me, I’d never felt compelled to say it back.
I made my way to the kitchen for a beer, and as I opened the refrigerator door, my phone rang. I tugged it out of my pocket and pressed it between my cheek and shoulder. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetie. How are you?”
“I’m good.” Or at least I was. The fridge was empty. Aly had taken all of my beer too. Damn it. Who took a man’s beer? That was just mean. She didn’t even drink beer—which I should have taken as a sign.
“I was calling to see if you and Aly could come over for dinner tomorrow. We haven’t seen you both in weeks.”
“I see Dad almost every day.”
“That doesn’t count. I haven’t seen you both in weeks.”
I took a deep breath and shut the door to the fridge. Mom was going to be pissed that I’d broken it off with Aly. She’d had her hopes up for a wedding and grandkids. “Mom, listen. Aly and I broke up.”
“What?” she gasped. “When?”
“Last week,” I muttered and braced.
“Last week!” she shrieked. “Why didn’t you call to tell me? Is she okay? Where is she going to live?”
“With her sister until she can find a new place. She’s hurt but it was for the best.”
“And how are you?”
“Fine, but I feel like an asshole.”
“Oh, Cole.”
I sighed. “I tried, Mom. I really did. But I just don’t . . .”
“You don’t love her. I know. It wasn’t hard to see.”
I abandoned my fridge and pulled out a stool from underneath the island, slumping onto the seat. “I should have ended it earlier. I shouldn’t have dragged it out this long and hurt her even more.”
“Well,” Mom said, “at least you didn’t marry her.”
“True.”
My eyes landed on the laptop by my side and I slid it over. As Mom talked into my ear, my fingers pulled up Google. Then they typed in Poppy’s name.
Her Facebook page popped up first. Instead of a profile picture, there was a logo for The Maysen Jar. What was The Maysen Jar? I clicked the picture to read the caption. Grand opening tomorrow!
Poppy had a restaurant and it was opening tomorrow?
“Cole!” Mom yelled into the phone.
“Huh? Oh, sorry. What was that?”
“I asked if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow.”
I closed the profile picture and clicked on another Facebook photo. This one was of Poppy standing outside a restaurant. Her hair was swept up in a bun and her arm was looped with a brunette’s. She was only five five or five six, but her legs went on for miles in her tight jeans and heels. The photo was stunning, but what really drew me in was her smile.
A smile I wanted to see for myself.
“Cole,” Mom huffed.
“Sorry, Mom.” I closed the laptop. “I can’t make it for dinner tomorrow. I’ve got plans.”