by Kathy Love
“Mmm,” he answered, but she couldn’t tell if he was impressed with the selection or not.
Then she remembered his aversion to blondes. Well, four of the ten were out of the running right off the top. And one had light brown hair with highlights, so Poppy wasn’t sure if she’d make the cut or not.
They were all pretty, though. And well dressed. Well, one of the brunettes was wearing something that looked a little trashy and desperate in Poppy’s opinion, but maybe Killian liked that look.
Poppy slid him a glance to see which one captured his attention, but he wasn’t looking at the table. He perused the bar instead.
Maybe none of the women were to his liking, which was too bad, because they were very much liking him. A couple of them stretched their necks like turtles, trying to catch his eye.
“Excuse me.”
Poppy looked over to see that a woman had come up on the other side of Killian. A sneak attack like a gator lunging out of the water to pull down a drinking deer.
Okay, maybe her animal analogies were getting a little out of control, but Killian was causing quite the reaction and the women here were definitely on the prowl.
The woman beside Killian was pretty. Prettier than a gator, to be sure. About the same age as Poppy with long, wavy hair. Auburn, which was good. Gray-green eyes. A black wrap dress that was sexy and stylish at the same time.
Poppy suddenly felt a bit frumpy in her sweater and jeans. But at least she wasn’t wearing one of her T-shirts.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but you look so familiar to me.”
She smiled to reveal perfectly white teeth. Definitely bonded. And as far as pickup lines went, well …
“Sorry,” Killian said, offering the woman a quick, impersonal smile. “I’m sure we haven’t met.”
She pursed her mauve-painted lips, thinking. “I was sure we had. Are you from around here?”
He shook his head. “No.”
Poppy had to admit she was enjoying this. Killian must not be interested in this one, because he definitely wasn’t giving her the reception she wanted. Unless he didn’t realize that he could have said they’d met on the moon, and this woman would have gone along with it.
The woman tilted her head, batting her eyes. “I just know I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
Killian opened his mouth, and from the look on his face, Poppy suspected his next comment wasn’t going to be even as polite as his last ones. So Poppy spoke first.
“You probably recognize him from television.”
The woman’s eyes widened with dawning excitement, acknowledging Poppy for the first time.
“Television?” she said, her attention coming right back to Killian.
Killian was paying total attention to Poppy. He narrowed his eyes at her before the woman began her barrage of questions.
“What do you do on TV? Do you have your own show? Have you been in movies?”
Killian shook his head. “I’m not really—”
“He’s not really one to brag,” Poppy finished for him. “He’s got his own show about the paranormal. He’s a paranormal investigator.”
The woman raised her perfectly tweezed brows. “Really? That’s such an interesting job.”
“Isn’t it?” Poppy agreed.
Killian shot Poppy an aggravated scowl. Poppy smiled back.
Oh, Poppy was enjoying this way too much.
Killian glared at her, and her smile only widened. That cute little dimple in her left cheek appeared. Some of his irritation faded. She really was lovely. Pale skin, those dark eyes that drew him in. And that smile. That impish smile.
“Tell her about your research, Killian,” she said, her eyes sparkling like dark smoky quartz.
He narrowed a glare at her again, then turned back to the redhead beside him. Really, the woman was quite attractive. She definitely filled out her clothing perfectly with ample breasts and flared hips.
But as he looked at her, he found himself thinking about smaller breasts and subtler curves.
Damn it. He was doing it again. He could not be attracted to Poppy.
Yet he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at her again. She still grinned, clearly amused by his discomfort at dealing with this woman.
Well, maybe he should show her. Would she be so amused if he turned all his attention to Jessica Rabbit here?
“I am in Boston to research places where there are reputed hauntings. For a television show I’m developing.”
The redhead nodded, her grayish-green eyes wide with interest.
“That’s exciting.”
“Yes,” he said. “I had a show that was very popular in Sweden. It was one of the top-rated shows every week it aired.”
“Really? And you are from Sweden?”
He nodded. “Ja.”
Quickly the conversation with the redhead took off, although he was only half aware of what she was saying. The other half was fully attuned to Poppy.
Poppy sat listening and, at first, he didn’t think she was bothered by the interaction between them. But gradually, he noticed Poppy start to fidget. Her foot tapped on one of the rungs of the stool. She looked around. She checked her cell phone. Once he thought he heard her sigh.
Finally, she interrupted them.
“I’m running to the restroom. Would you mind ordering me another pinot noir?”
Killian nodded, acting as if he could barely drag himself away from the redhead’s scintillating conversation.
But as Poppy slid off the stool and started toward the back of the bar, he couldn’t stop himself from watching her. The subtle, lissome sway of her hips, the delicious curve of her backside.
His body reacted, and he had to shift on his seat.
“So is she a friend?” the redhead asked, the question almost comical given what he was feeling at the moment.
He looked back to the woman. “Yes. She is.”
The woman, whom he thought was named Lisa. Maybe Liza. Liz? Whatever her name was, she smiled.
“Well, she’s a lucky woman to have a friend like you.”
Killian frowned. What did that even mean?
He glanced toward the back of the bar. Poppy was gone.
He suddenly wondered why he’d been bothering to talk to this woman. To make Poppy jealous? That wasn’t the goal of the night.
Right now, he just wanted to get rid of this woman.
“Actually,” he found himself saying to the redhead, “Poppy is my girlfriend.”
“She is?” The woman didn’t look convinced.
“Yes.”
The redhead placed a hand on her hip. “A man like you? With a mousy little thing like her?”
Killian stared at the woman, stunned by her tactlessness. Which was something, given whom she was talking to.
He didn’t even hesitate.
Go away. And don’t come back.
The woman blinked, but then mumbled some reason to excuse herself, although she clearly didn’t understand why she was doing so.
Killian nodded, then turned back to the bar before she had even walked away.
Good riddance. He was here for Poppy. And he would stay focused on his task from now on.
* * *
Poppy walked into the women’s room, fighting the urge to kick the door of one of the bathroom stalls. Why had she actually encouraged that woman?
Now she was going to spend the evening listening to those two chatter and laugh, while she sat there like some dull little wallflower. And all because she thought she was going to somehow make him uncomfortable.
Did people who looked like those two ever feel uncomfortable?
She wandered over to the mirror and stared at her reflection. She turned her head one way, then the other. She knew she looked better than she usually did. But when compared to people like Killian and that woman out there—well, she was just a plain Jane at best.
She studied herself a moment longer, then she opened her purse and pulled out a tube of clear
lip gloss. She dabbed some on her lips, rubbing them together. She fluffed her hair, wishing the fine tresses had more body.
Ah, well, tonight wasn’t about her anyway. This was Killian’s time to find a new love interest—so encouraging him to chat with other women was exactly what she needed to do.
Maybe she’d find some guy to chat up, not that the idea appealed to her much. But she straightened her posture and lifted her chin.
This wasn’t about her, but she wasn’t going to look like some pathetic tagalong of Killian’s. She was going to smile and laugh too.
As she stepped out of the ladies’ room, she saw Killian. He was hard to miss. He was like a golden angel. His light brown hair reflected gold highlights in the low lamplight. His skin was warm and golden too. And although she couldn’t see his eyes from here, she knew their color as if she’d looked into them all her life. A golden amber. Molten and beautiful.
Suddenly, Killian was blocked from view, and Poppy collided with someone or something.
“Oh!” she said, her hands shooting out to balance herself. Hands at her hips did the same thing, and she registered it was a someone she’d run into.
“I’m sor—” she started, looking up to see a man with a bald head, wire-rimmed glasses, a goatee and blue eyes that Poppy hadn’t seen for years, but still recognized as if she’d just seen them yesterday.
“Sorry,” he said, then those blue eyes grew huge behind his glasses. “Poppy? Poppy Reed?”
CHAPTER 20
“Eric,” Poppy said, although she knew she didn’t sound as thrilled as he did.
“Oh, my God.” He grinned. “It’s been like, what? Four or five years?”
She nodded, managing a tight little smile. “Yes.”
Eric hugged her then. She stiffened, then lifted her arms to return the embrace.
“So are you still playing?” she asked when they parted, having hugged the guitar on his back as well as him. Which, if he was the same Eric, was appropriate. His guitar had been as much a part of him as his arms and legs.
His grin widened. “Oh, yeah. When I can. There’s not as much free time now as there was in our good ol’ college days.”
Poppy nodded, noticing he looked older. The boyish looks she remembered had been replaced by a squarer jawline and more defined features.
Did she look different to him? She felt different. But she’d felt different for a long time now.
As if he were following her train of thought, he said, “You look great, Poppy.”
“Doesn’t she?”
Poppy looked away from Eric to see Killian standing beside them. He stood several inches taller than Eric, and his build was much bigger, much more powerful. A sense of safety that she didn’t quite understand instantly washed over her.
“Um, Killian, this is an old college friend, Eric. Eric, this is—” What title did she give Killian? “This is my friend, Killian.”
Killian nodded at Eric, then almost as if it were an afterthought, offered his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Killian shook the man’s hand, not feeling in the least bit pleased to meet this person. In fact, when he’d first watched the guy bump into Poppy and seen her shocked expression, he’d risen, ready to come over and step in.
Then recognition and a small smile had appeared on her face. And there had been the hug. So he’d sat back down. But only for a few minutes.
Something about Poppy’s demeanor had called to him. She wasn’t comfortable with this guy, and now up close, he could practically sense her emotions in the air. A subtle wafting of dismay mixed with melancholy.
Had this man hurt her in the past? Was this the ex? No. No, Eric wasn’t the right name.
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” Eric said, shaking his head, smiling fondly at her. “Adam just mentioned you last week.”
Adam. That was the ex’s name.
Beside him, Poppy swayed, just a quick rock from foot to foot, but Killian moved closer. Just in case.
“He—he mentioned me?” she finally gathered herself enough to say, the hesitant words dripping with hope.
Something in Killian’s chest twisted. A strange pain he didn’t understand. He disregarded the feeling, focusing on Poppy instead.
She didn’t look well. Her already pale skin faded until it appeared almost translucent. He placed his hand on the small of her back, wanting to give her support, simply needing to touch her for his own sake. She stiffened, just a bit, then sagged against his hand.
He rubbed her lower back, noting that Eric saw the touch. A strong surge of possessiveness filled Killian.
He didn’t like seeing Poppy so upset. He wanted to help her. That’s all.
Eric’s eyes moved back to Poppy, another ready smile on his lips. “Of course, Adam mentions you.”
Poppy swayed again.
“He’s actually playing a gig this weekend,” Eric added. “You should go. I know he’d love to see you.”
Another slight weave.
Killian fought a grimace. My, wasn’t ol’ Eric cheerfully oblivious. Totally unaware of the effect his words was having.
Then still merrily unaware, Eric looked around as if suddenly remembering why he was here.
“Speaking of gigs, I better set up,” he said. “You’re going to stay and listen to me play, right?”
Poppy nodded, although Killian wasn’t sure if she’d really heard the question or just realized a response was expected of her.
“Great! I’ll come join you for a drink on my break.”
Again, Poppy nodded.
“Nice meeting you,” Eric said to Killian.
Killian dipped his head in response, then waited until the man walked away
“Poppy?”
She blinked up at him as if she’d forgotten he was even there. Seeing this guy had really shaken her. He rubbed her back again to soothe her. He tried to ignore the idea that it might also be to make her aware of him.
“Sorry. I’m just a little—” She laughed, although the sound was brittle, humorless. “I’m just a little surprised, I guess.”
No one, with the exception of maybe clueless Eric, could miss that.
“Come on, I got you another wine.”
Poppy allowed Killian to lead her back to their seats, taking comfort from his hand, steady and strong, on her lower back. She slid up on the stool and reached for the glass of wine he’d ordered her. She polished off most of it in one gulp.
Behind her, Eric started strumming a song she knew very well. A song that he’d played back in their college days. The strains of the music acted like a trigger, setting off an explosion of memories in her head.
Sitting in bars like this, watching Eric play with another musician. She closed her eyes and she could hear the other guitarist’s amazing voice. His classical guitar training shone through, even on pop songs. His wild, unkempt hair and Byronic good looks. His love of art and creativity and learning.
Adam.
The talks they’d had. The plans they’d shared. All the things they were going to do. Traveling around Europe, living in different cities, not caring if they existed hand to mouth, just living on love and the art they would create.
She finished off her wine and waved to the bartender, gesturing to her empty glass once she’d caught his attention.
When the third drink arrived, she took another long swallow.
“Whoa there,” Killian said from beside her, startling her. How did she keep forgetting he was here? He wasn’t exactly forgettable.
He took the glass from her, placing it in front of himself. She didn’t argue, mainly because the wine was almost gone anyway.
“What’s going on?”
Poppy frowned at him, pretending she didn’t have a clue why he was asking such a thing. “What do you mean?”
He raised an eyebrow, his expression the very definition of sardonic. “You would not be on the top of my list of lushes.”
“Lush?” Poppy laughed. She wasn’t a lush.
Never had been. “I don’t think three drinks—really two drinks and a half—constitutes lush status.”
Killian’s gaze moved over her face, studying her, but then he nodded. “No, I suppose not. But it just doesn’t seem like you.”
Like her. She almost snorted at that. Like her.
Which her was he talking about? The her who was going to have a wild, adventuresome life with the man she loved? Or the her who pined for the man who’d walked out years ago? The her whose life revolved around her little sister? The her—
“Tell me about Adam.”
Killian’s quietly asked question knocked the breath out of her like a sucker punch to her gut. She hadn’t seen it coming, but she should have. Killian was pretty straightforward and rarely subtle.
“Umm,” she started. What did she say? That he’d left her because … because she wasn’t enough for him. Did she admit that?
She couldn’t. Not to this man, who already saw her in the same light.
No. No. Killian just wanted and needed a different type of woman. That wasn’t the same. But wasn’t it? Wasn’t it exactly?
“Adam was—” Poppy stopped as a woman appeared beside Killian. Not the woman who’d been here when she’d left for the restroom.
Poppy looked around. What had happened to her, anyway?
Well, whatever. This was a brunette with a short pixie cut and big baby-blue eyes. The kind of eyes a man could get lost in—wasn’t that the cliché?
“Hi.” She smiled, leaning in right between the two of them, so Poppy had to lean back to avoid being bumped.
“My friends over there”—she gestured to the table of women—“and I have a bet going. Are you a model?”
“No,” Killian answered, his tone curt.
“Really, because I could swear I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
Poppy snorted. “You better get a more original line than that. He’s already heard that one tonight.”
Poppy snapped her mouth shut. Had she really just said that?
She giggled a little, until she realized both Miss Blue Eyes and Killian were staring at her. Blue Eyes looked annoyed. Killian looked—amused. His golden eyes flashed with silent laughter.
