“It’s almost four in the morning,” she said, and placed it back in the drawer. “Is something wrong, Felix?”
“No. It’s just time for me to leave. Where’s your phone again?” His words sounded harsh even to him, but it was better to hurt her feelings now and make a clean break than string her along with something that was never going to happen in the first place.
Poppy was the type of woman you took home to meet the parents, not the kind of woman you pounced on like a horny teenager and promised to call in the morning but knew you wouldn’t. He knew that the moment he laid eyes on her, but, like the moon orbiting the planet, he’d been powerless to resist her gravitational pull.
Felix was a one night stand kind of guy. He didn’t do commitments. He already broke one of his main rules: no sleepovers. It surprised him how comfortable he was in a stranger’s home, in a stranger’s bed, and only drove home the point that he needed to get out of there before he made things any worse.
Sitting up now, Poppy clutched the blankets to her chest and Felix tried to ignore the hurt swimming in her eyes. Swallowing convulsively, she pointed toward the door behind him. “It’s, um, it’s downstairs.
In the living room next to the couch.”
“Thanks.” Turning, he strode from the room and didn’t bother looking back. He didn’t have to see her face to know that he had inflicted damage; he just had to trust that she was strong enough to get over it. The sooner the better he continued to tell himself as he marched down the stairs to find his clothes and make his call.
7
Poppy couldn’t make sense of the abrupt change in Felix’s behavior. When she woke in his arms, he seemed eager to pick up where he left off. The man’s sexual appetite was out of this world. Never had she had sex more than once in a night, and never had it been as thorough as Felix had been with her. Between the love making and the intimate talk afterward, she had begun to feel like he might be someone she would like to get to know better. Now, though, she wasn’t so sure.
Felix’s sudden shift from hot to cold left her feeling empty and alone, like she was a stranger in her own home. Watching him turn away and leave, Poppy just looked around the room, unable to move, unable to think, and felt cold. She couldn’t explain it, didn’t really want to try, but his absence felt wrong.
Gathering her nightgown from the floor, she tugged it down over her head and started for the stairs. Bo was up in a flash, keeping pace beside her as she descended the stairs. Her heartbeat quickened as she reached the bottom and her gaze landed on Felix.
He stood across the room, his back to her. He had dressed himself in the damp suit slacks and was reaching for his shirt where it lay draped over the rocker, when she realized he held the phone to his ear.
“Yes, route 22…It’s a 2008 BMW…Gray…No, I won’t be with the vehicle.”
She listened to his side of the conversation, her stomach knotting as he rattled off the garage he wanted it taken to and his personal information. When he hung up, he dug the wallet from his back pants pocket. Removing a business card, Poppy waited, listening numbly as he made yet another phone call, this time to what sounded like a friend.
“Hey, I need you to pick me up…It’s somewhere along route 22. Hold on, let me find out.”
Poppy’s spine stiffened as Felix spun around and looked directly at her as if he’d known all along that she’d been standing there. “What’s the address here?” he asked with a stony expression. She gave it to him, and he turned his back on her again as he relayed the information.
Unsure what to do with herself, Poppy made her way into the kitchen and began filling the teapot with water. Hot tea always made her feel a little better when things weren’t going her way.
She was just setting the kettle on the stove when she felt Felix enter the room. Pointedly ignoring him, Poppy set about finding a mug and choosing which tea would best suit her mood. She knew it was a bit childish, but she couldn’t seem to make herself look at him without feeling like the bottom of her stomach had dropped out. It didn’t make any sense, but did anything anymore?
Felix was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. “My ride should be here soon.”
Poppy simply tore open a packet of Earl Grey and began pouring the hot water over it. She felt him at her back and stiffened. Reaching around her, Felix lifted a mug from the shelf and placed it on the counter next to hers.
“I think I’ll have a cup too if you don’t mind.”
The heat rolling off his bare chest seeped through the material of her nightgown and shivers rolled down her spine as her mind served up pictures of the two of them together, entwined in her bed, touching and kissing and savoring. She wanted to return to those moments, to never get out of bed, but knew it was impossible. The bubble had burst; it was time to get back to reality.
He stepped away all too soon, snapping Poppy back into harsh reality.
Without a word, she began preparing his drink. She took longer than was necessary, excessively dipping the bag into the water again and again, adding a little milk to cool it down a bit, anything to prolong having to confront the elephant in the room. Finally, when she knew she had to face him, she gathered the cups and turned.
Seated at the small dinette in the corner, Felix looked like a giant. His large frame overpowered the thin metal legs of the chairs and the arm he had draped over the tabletop ate up more than half the surface. Poppy seared the picture of him, sitting just like that, his dark, penetrating gaze following her every move, his long, tapered legs extended out before him, into her brain so that when he was gone, she could pull from her memories and reminisce on the night she had met an amazing man and experienced untold passion under his expert hands.
He wanted
badly to reach out and tug her into his lap and reassure her that everything was good between them, but that would just be making a bad situation worse. He had to restrain himself from grabbing her up when she handed over the steaming cup of tea. Instead, he lifted his cup to his lips and took a tentative sip.
He didn’t actually like tea. He was more o
f a coffee man, really, but it seemed like a good opportunity to break through the death shroud that had descended on what should have been a good end to a great evening. How had everything gotten so messed up?
Oh, yeah. He had gone and screwed with a heart he had
no business screwing with.
The night had been one disaster after another. Though, if he was being completely honest with himself, his encounter with Poppy had been the best experience he’d had in a while. Everything about her screamed wholesome and honest and just genuinely nice. You didn’t meet someone like her every day. People like this were a rare breed
, especially in the city. She was nothing like the women he would normally chose for himself, and it ate at him that he was treating her like just another nameless, faceless body.
She was anything but that. Felix had a sneaking suspicion that, long after they went their separate ways, Poppy would
remain with him.
He was a fool for even thinking about walking out that door, but when the sound of a car horn
ripped through the silence, Felix rose from his seat and headed for the door.
Poppy followed, her dog Bo tagging along
quietly behind her, while he finished dressing in his still damp clothes. By the time he allowed himself to look at her again, he was met with vacant eyes. He had seen that look before, and it was usually the look he got right after shutting down one of his dates who expected more than he was willing to give.
Poppy was different, though.
She hadn’t said one word about him staying, nor had she become clingy or combative when she realized things weren’t going any farther between them—all things he had grown to expect. Instead, she quietly saw him to the door.
When Felix stepped onto the porch it was to find that the rain had died down into
a light mist, making his friend Tate’s car clearly visible from the street. He would have left right then, but his feet were glued to their spot. His stomach knotted at the idea of stepping off that porch and never looking back. His gut told him that if he didn’t say something now, he was going to regret it later, but fear rooted him in place, unable to leave or turn back.
Tate blew the horn twice, impatient little bursts that called
back his attention. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Felix was just about to walk away when he decided to throw caution to the wind. He had always been taught to go with his gut, and his gut was telling him that a girl like Poppy didn’t come around often and he’d be a fool to pass her by.
“Poppy, I—” His words died a quick death when he turned to find the door closed and Poppy gone. His eyes darted to the living room windows and was met with absolute darkness. What should he do?
he wondered as he backed down the stairs and craned his neck to peer up at the second floor.
A light mist coated his upturned face as he scanned the darkened windows. One minute passed, and then another, until finally, a light lit in the corner room. Felix was torn. Should he
shout up to her like some hormonal teenager desperate for her attention, or bang down the door like some deranged psychopath until she called the police?
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there considering his options, but when Tate’s commanding voice called out behind him, Felix finally made his decision.
“What’s the hold up, man?” Tate shouted. “It’s late and I have to be up at the crack of dawn for another round of signings.”
Pivoting on his heel, Felix cut through the maze of flower beds and tugged open the passenger door. Sliding Tate a dejected look, he sighed. “
Hey.”
“Everything alright?”
Tate asked as he positioned himself behind the wheel and began backing down the short drive.
Felix glanced up at the house, his gaze landing on the dimly lit window. His stomach knotted with longing.
“Just been a long day.” He never should have left, he thought solemnly. But he knew it was for the best. He just didn’t have anything to offer a woman like Poppy, and he wouldn’t waste her time with empty promises. She deserved better than that.
One day, Poppy was going to make some lucky guy very happy.
His gut twisted at the idea of Poppy being with another man. Annoyed with his body’s reaction, he told Tate to step on it. The sooner he got back to his reality, the better.
Casting one last look at the house, Felix’s breath froze in his chest. There, with the curtains drawn back, stood Poppy. In that brief moment of time their eyes locked, and Felix had to fight the urge to leap from the moving vehicle and run back inside.
How, in just a few hours, had this woman managed to get under his skin unlike any woman before her? Felix shook his head and forced himself to tear his eyes away. This was just a culmination of everything bad that had happened to him tonight. Emotionally charged atmospheres, especially after a life and death experience, were known to foster connections and feelings that otherwise would never have occurred.
His emerging feelings for this woman
, who had taken him in and cared for him in his time of need, were misleading and couldn’t be trusted.
As the city lights emerged in the distance, Felix contented himself with the knowledge that, once he got home and back into his routine, everything would go back to normal. And
Poppy, she would become a distant, pleasant memory surrounding a night that had gone horribly awry.
8
Two weeks had passed since that stormy night when a dashing man dressed in suit and drenched from head to toe had stumbled through her door needing her help. He had given her so much more that night, Poppy thought to herself as she finished zipping up her dress.
Life had felt empty before, but after Felix walked out her door, it had become unbearable. The silence she had grown accustomed to was deafening. Even Bo’s company wasn’t cutting it anymore. The time they had spent together reminded her of how good it could be to have someone near, to share your bed and your thoughts with. She hadn’t realized how much she missed simple connection with another human being until then.
She tried to occupy herself by delving fur
ther into her books and baking—her other favorite pastime. But none of it worked, and after two days and nights of restlessness, Poppy decided it was time to get back into the world and start looking for a job.
Spending each afternoon in the city, walking the streets and filling out applications, she had managed to keep her mind fairly occupied. It was the nights, when the world grew quiet again and she was left to her thoughts that were the problem.
When Felix wasn’t dominating every waking thought, he was starring in her dreams. She could still feel his touch on her skin, taste him on her lips.
And Bo wasn’t fairing much better.
He never had trusted people, which meant that he never liked anyone either. After Felix, Bo was a different dog. She often found him sitting on the porch watching the road as if he were waiting for something…or someone. And when Poppy settled down with him in the evenings, he sat her feet while she held a book in her hands, and fixed sad eyes on the door, letting out an occasional whine from time to time like a heartbroken child.
The only change
in their lives had been Felix, and so Poppy had to contribute Bo’s behavior to him. It seemed he had worked his way into both their hearts and when he walked out that door; he had taken a piece of them with him. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part. Bo was probably just reacting to her shift in mood. He always had been very perceptive.
Shaking off her self-imposed depression, Poppy slipped into a pair of sensible black pumps and scooped up the black suit jacket that went with the formfitting casual dress she wore from the foot of the bed and headed downstairs.
The time for self-pitying was over. Poppy had a job interview with a very important man at a very important business in the heart of downtown. Having been out of the workforce for nearly a year, she was as excited as she was nervous.