by Lori Wilde
Even so, Abel had thrown her off her game, but with diligent focus she made it through the rest of the class.
The way she saw it, she had two choices. She could do what she’d always done. When she saw a man she wanted, she simply went after him without weighing whether he was really someone she wanted to be with long term or not.
Traditionally, she went for the looks, the chemistry, the sex appeal, which Abel had by the bucketloads. Or she could ignore the rush of attraction, the thrust of hormones, the heady desire to kiss him until her lips swelled. She could be sensible for once when it came to relationships and follow her head instead of her ovaries.
She thought of Sienna who seemed very happy getting married to the only guy she’d ever dated.
Then she thought of her mother. How Angie had gone from one handsome guy to another, jumping into relationships without looking, taking Poppy along with her. The roller coaster of her mother’s multiple relationships hadn’t ended until she’d gone for the safety and security of Mike’s kindness over good looks and a bad boy temperament. Then she thought of tempestuous Zoey who seemed very ecstatic over laid-back Jason and their baby on the way.
Poppy had one thing going for her. She wasn’t dragging children through her mess of a love life, but she was making the same mistakes her mother had made. Assuming that hot lust meant love. Well, it was time to stop that nonsense. She was twenty-nine years old.
Twenty-nine.
The innocence of youth was gone and what did she have to show for it besides a butterfly tattoo on her shoulder?
No. It was time to get off the merry-go-round and start acting like an adult. She was not going to allow this attraction to Abel Black to overwhelm her.
Absolutely not.
#
Abel got out of the ice-cold shower he’d taken in the studio’s locker room just as Poppy’s yoga students emerged from her classroom.
It was rotten timing for his emotions—his gut constricted the minute he laid eyes on her and he had an overpowering urge to turn and run—but it was perfect timing for his assignment. They could walk home together, and he could strike up a conversation, see if he could get her to talk about Barksdale.
Besides, he wasn’t a coward. When he was afraid of something, he faced it head-on.
“Hey,” Poppy said, a hesitant smile flitting about her lips. “You okay?”
He felt the tension in his own smile as he lied. “Fine.”
Only after the cold shower cure.
“You were headed home?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you drive?”
“Walked.”
“Me, too. Would you like to walk home together?” she asked, beating him to the punch.
“Um...”
“I only ask because I thought you might want to talk about what happened in class. Yoga can produce some startling reactions in our bodies and it’s only natural to be alarmed.”
Abel suspected his physical reactions had nothing to do with yoga and everything to do with the pert, fresh-faced instructor. Even simply standing here in the hallway, staring into those big blue eyes, he could feel his body rousing again.
He tightened his jaw, determined not to let testosterone get the better of him. He really didn’t want to talk about what had happened, but it was the perfect excuse to engage her in conversation.
“Yes,” he said. “I’d like that very much.”
“Great. Just let me get my bag.”
He stepped out of the way of the door and waited while she zipped into the locker room and returned with an oversized tote bag slung over her shoulder, her purple yoga mat peeking from the top.
The summer night air was warm, but not overly so. People strolled the sidewalks. They passed a Thai restaurant spilling the smell of ginger, peanuts, and coconut out into the street.
“That’s a great place to eat,” Poppy said.
“Is it a good place to take a date?”
“The atmosphere isn’t terribly romantic,” she conceded, “but the food makes up for it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Not yet,” he said, not knowing why he gave that answer.
She cast an appraising glance over him. “How long has it been since you’ve been in a relationship?”
“Um...”
“Okay, that was too nosy. It’s none of my business.”
“A while,” he admitted.
That was true enough. He and Kirsten had been broken up for almost a year and he hadn’t dated since. Honestly, that was probably what was wrong with him. A year without sex could do serious damage to a guy’s restraint.
“That could explain your intense reaction in class,” she said. “That and the fact that you have a really fiery sacral chakra.”
“Fiery sacral chakra?”
“It means you’re just naturally very sexually responsive.”
That comment made him inordinately proud of himself. “I’m not sure I believe in all that chakra business.”
“You don’t have to believe it. Doesn’t change the fact you’re chock-full of sexual mojo.”
“I am?”
She made a noise in the back of her throat that almost sounded like a purr. “You have one of the strongest masculine auras I’ve ever encountered.”
“You read auras, too?”
She shrugged. “My mom worked in a spa in Sedona for a couple of years when I was a kid. I guess I absorbed some of that culture.”
“It’s a different philosophy,” he said, not wanting to sound judgmental, but he found all the New Age stuff a bit far-fetched.
“Yeah,” she said. “You have to be pretty open-minded to accept it.”
Oh, so he wasn’t open-minded? “There’s open-minded and then there’s gullible.”
The soft smile was back at the corner of her lips. “Are you saying I’m gullible?”
“No, it’s just that there are two sides to every argument.”
She nodded, surprising him by agreeing. “My mom’s the gullible type, but my childhood experiences didn’t turn me off to possibilities. There’s plenty of mysteries in the universe.”
“Are you saying I’m turned off to possibilities?”
“Not at all, but you seem to be taking it that way. Why is that?” She canted her head.
Poppy had the ability to make him doubt himself and for a man who was always certain of the path he was on, that was unsettling. They crossed the street at the stoplight.
From this spot on the hill, he caught a glimpse of the ocean stretching below. It was a beautiful place to live. The town houses they passed all had window boxes growing a plethora of colorful flowers. He had the strangest urge to pick a handful of blooms for her.
“I’m saying not to cut yourself off to possibilities, Abel. You seem to have already made your mind up about the world.”
“What makes you think I’m doing that?”
She stopped walking and he had to back up. Her gaze fixed on his face. He shifted under her scrutiny.
The woman was sharp, looking as if she could read his every thought. It was disconcerting, her talent for sizing up a situation. She made him feel... well, not so alone... and that put him on guard instantly. She was charming and disarming and he wanted to move mountains for her. More cause for concern.
“What are you so afraid of?” she asked.
You. “Who says I’m afraid of anything?”
“Everyone is afraid of something.”
This conversation was spiraling out of control and he didn’t know how to rein it back in. “I’m afraid of getting an erection in yoga class.”
Her laugh was clear and loud and the sound of it stirred something joyous inside him. This woman did strange and wondrous things to him and that was what scared him more than anything else.
“Touché,” she said. “I take it you won’t be returning to class.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He
r eyes lit up. He could tell that she liked him. He liked her, too. That was the issue.
“So,” he said, “you know I don’t have a girlfriend. What about you?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend either,” she teased.
Delightful. She was delightful. He had to watch this one. She kept him on his toes. “No significant other in your life?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “No, but I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“Did the last one burn you pretty badly?”
“How do you know there was a last one?”
“Beautiful, sexy woman like you? I’m betting there have been a lot of guys chasing you.”
She shrugged. Not coy, admitting it. “The last one burned me, but not in the way you think. He didn’t break my heart or anything. I wasn’t that invested. More like he hurt my pride. Since then, I’ve been thinking about a moratorium on dating.”
“For how long of a moratorium?”
“A year.”
“Why?”
“I tend to jump into relationships too fast and end up with the wrong kind of guy, so I’m thinking maybe I should take a year off and get to know myself a little better. I fear I might be one of those women who always has to be with a man, and that’s not how I want to be.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, I’ve never really been without a boyfriend since I was sixteen. Boyfriend. That sounds like such an immature term when you’re pushing thirty.”
“You’re almost thirty?”
“Just turned twenty-nine.”
“I would have guessed you weren’t more than twenty-five.” This was true even though the dossier the Rangers had compiled listed her date of birth.
“You don’t have to flatter me. I’m not sleeping with you.”
Her honesty took him by surprise. He was accustomed to game playing from most women. “I don’t recall asking you to.”
Her gaze traveled below his belt. “Your penis did.”
The way she said “penis” only made him more flustered. “Hey, I thought you said it was a natural reaction to that particular yoga position.”
“You’re not doing a yoga pose now.”
Abel gritted his teeth. The woman was outrageous and he liked it!
“You embarrass so easily,” she said. “I think it’s adorable.”
“I’m not embarrassed.”
“Then why are your ears red?”
It was all he could do not to touch his ear. Instead, he was stunned to hear what came out of his mouth next. “My ears turn red when I get turned on.”
“Oh,” she said. “Oh.”
Ha! At last, she was at a loss for words. Awkwardness stole over them and the night air was suddenly filled with a heavy undercurrent of tension.
“How come a woman like you isn’t already married?” he asked, desperate to say anything to fill the void.
Poppy smiled. “What do you mean, a woman like me?”
“Sexy,” he said. “Smart. Inventive.”
“I have many flaws.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“I’m dreadfully honest and I drink orange juice straight from the carton.”
“Those are terrible flaws,” he murmured. “But you’d think some guy would have braved them for the total package.”
“I could ask you the same thing. Are there any serious relationships in your past?”
“There was one,” he admitted.
“What happened?”
“We were too much alike. Kirsten realized it before I did and called the wedding off. She said she needed a man who completed her, not complemented her.”
“Sounds like she’d already met someone else to me.”
“You’re intuitive, as well, Poppy St. John.”
“Not as much as I should be,” she said.
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve had several misguided relationships. If I was more intuitive, I never would have gotten involved with some of those guys in the first place.”
“Oh?” He leaned closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Most guys don’t want to hear about a woman’s exes.”
“I don’t.” He fisted his hand. “But if it helps you to talk about it...”
“Not really. What’s past is past...” She trailed off.
“What was his name?”
“Keith Barksdale.”
Ah, they were getting somewhere at last. Abel waited, not wanting to seem too curious.
She swallowed, moistening her lips with her tongue. “It was... he was...”
“Yeah?” Abel said, fisting his hand. “What’d he do?”
“He was charming. Very good-looking.” She glanced down, then raised her eyes and met Abel’s gaze. “But not as good-looking as you.”
“No?”
“You want to get some ice cream?” she asked, stopping in front of an ice cream shop.
“I don’t normally eat ice cream.”
“You don’t like ice cream?”
“I love it; that’s the problem.” He patted his belly.
“One cone,” she said. “What could it hurt?”
It wasn’t the one cone that bothered him. It was the thought of her wicked little tongue licking at the smooth, creamy confection. He was about to beg off, but she was already opening the door of the shop, pushing inside.
“C’mon.”
Without really knowing why, he went.
“A scoop of pistachio on a waffle cone,” she told the girl behind the counter. “And...” Poppy turned back to Abel but didn’t wait for him to order. “Vanilla in a cup.”
Stunned, he stared at her. That’s exactly what he was going to order. Was he that damned predictable that she could so easily guess his ice cream preference?
“Put mine in a waffle cone, as well,” he said just to be contradictory.
“Ooh.” Poppy’s eyes twinkled. “Mr. Plain Vanilla likes a bit of crunch with his cream.”
“How did you know vanilla was my favorite?”
She held up both palms. “I’m intuitive.”
“Impressively so. More lessons from Sedona?”
“Not really. Vanilla is the number one flavor. I took a wild guess. The odds were in my favor.”
Sassy. He liked that.
They got their ice cream and meandered past a family of six sitting at the front of the store, bickering good-naturedly.
“You ever think of having kids?” she asked when they were back on the street.
“What?” That question seemed to come out of left field.
She inclined her head toward the family inside the ice cream shop. “You’d be great at it.”
The comment pleased him. He did want a family. Eventually. Someday. Maybe. “What makes you say that?”
“You strike me as the responsible type. You’ve got that stalwart cowboy thing going on.”
“Is that a compliment or a criticism?”
“Depends on if you want to be responsible or not.”
“Do you want kids?” he asked.
“Someday, I suppose. My best friend, Zoey, just found out she’s pregnant. Luckily, her boyfriend is a great guy and he proposed. They’re getting married in a couple of months.”
“I suppose that’s one way to do it.”
“How would you do it?”
“I’m a pretty traditional guy. I’m a fan of the marriage first, baby second option.”
“That option doesn’t guarantee happily ever after.”
“Maybe not, but it’s the way I feel.”
“Me, too. At least for me. Other methods work for other people.”
Her agreement surprised him. He would have supposed she’d be unconventional about parenthood.
“You’re pretty balanced, Poppy St. John; you know that?”
“All those years of yoga,” she joked.
“Why yoga?” he asked, pausing to take a lick of his ice cream. “What’s the appeal
?”
“I’m attracted to the discipline.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, growing up I didn’t have much of it.”
“That nomad thing you were talking about.”
She nodded. “My mother had wanderlust and a kid. It’s not the best combination in the world. What about you?”
“My family has owned a ranch in Montana for three generations.”
“What’s the story there? Why are you in Texas?”
“I went to school at UT and fell in love with the Lone Star State.”
“But you’ll go back to Montana someday.”
“Yeah.”
“I like that you come from a stable, rooted family.”
“Why’s that?”
“Explains why you’re so self-possessed. Most people I’ve known who come from a stable childhood vanquish their social neurosis at a young age, if they ever had one to begin with. Compare that to kids from erratic family environments. You feel like you don’t really belong anywhere. I mean my mom moved around and I never felt comfortable in one place for very long. It always took me forever to settle in and make friends, and then just when I did, poof...” She snapped her fingers. “Angie would be up and gone again.”
“Angie?”
“My mom. She was only eighteen years old when she had me and she likes for me to call her Angie.”
“She sounds like an interesting person.”
Poppy tossed the remainder of her ice cream cone in a nearby trash bin. “She used to be pretty avant-garde. Now, she’s a normal mom.”
“Why the change?”
“My stepfather. He’s the anchor to her bobbing sailboat. They’re good for each other. He keeps her grounded; she keeps him from being such a stick-in-the-mud.”
Poppy stopped walking. They’d arrived at their apartment complex. He could just leave things as they were, say good night, and hightail it to his apartment. Or he could gallantly offer to walk her to her door, as he would have under any other circumstances.
“Well,” she said. “That was entertaining. Thanks for walking home with me.”
“C’mon, I’ll walk you to your door.”
“I’m perfectly okay to climb the steps on my own.”
“I know you are. I just want to make sure you get home safely.”
“You live across the courtyard.”
