by Cindy Kirk
“I’m still angry with my father,” Ben admitted.
Poppy laid a hand gently on his arm and made an encouraging noise.
“I didn’t appreciate being dressed down like an errant schoolboy.”
“I bet not.” Poppy sighed. “I guess no matter how old we are, we’re still their little boy or little girl.”
“A frightening thought.”
She laughed. “I wonder if that’s how we’ll be with Jack or Jill.”
“Jack or Jill?”
“I get tired of calling him or her ‘the baby,’” she admitted. “I can’t wait until we know whether we’re having a boy or girl so we can start calling him or her by name.”
“Leroy,” he said. “And if it’s a girl, Mabel.”
Her eyes flew open. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to summon up a tactful response.
He shot her a wink. “Just kidding.”
Relief blanketed her face. “You came up with them so quickly, I worried you might be serious.”
“Those were the names of two of the dogs I had growing up.”
“Cute.”
“Not really.”
“Seriously, do you have any names that you particularly like? Or family names?”
Ben shook his head. “What about you?”
“I’d prefer to steer clear of the cutesy.”
He lifted a questioning brow.
“Such as Poppy.” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know what my mother was thinking.”
“I like your name. It’s different and it fits.”
“Thank you.” She heaved a sigh. “But cute is off the table.”
“So we’ve eliminated Leroy, Mabel and anything cute,” he said with a smile. “We’re well on our way to finding the perfect name for our child.”
Her lips pressed together. “That’s what I think irritated me most of all when I spoke with my mother.”
Ben opened the gate leading to the refuge and motioned her through.
“She seemed to have forgotten there is an innocent child at the heart of all of this,” Poppy continued. “A child I already love. A little boy or girl who’ll bring joy into my life. Into my parents’ lives, too. That’s what my mom should be focusing on, instead of how I disappointed her by getting pregnant without being married.”
“We should hook your mother up with my father.”
“They’d probably spend the whole time trying to figure out who was most to blame.”
Ben chuckled.
“I don’t know if I told you this before,” Poppy said as they wound their way down a dusty path. “I was fully prepared for you to want to have nothing to do with me when I told you I was pregnant.”
Irritation surged. For a second. “That just shows how little you knew me.”
“I guess,” she said with a shrug.
“And that’s why we’re now living under the same roof,” he reminded her. “To get to know each other.”
“Though I now see the value, you had to know I wasn’t keen on the idea.”
“I got that,” Ben said. “But why?”
“While I’m strongly attracted to you physically, you’re not the kind of man I could love.”
* * *
He wasn’t the kind of man she could ever love.
Ben slammed the tennis ball back across the net, his mouth set in a hard line, then shifted his stance as Tripp returned the serve.
They volleyed, playing hard as they were evenly matched. Finally a backhanded return that barely skimmed the net then whizzed past Tripp’s head only to drop just inside gave Ben the winning point.
They met at the net, sweat streaming down their face, then headed to the showers. By the time they were sitting on the outside terrace of the Country Club with a cold brew and a basket of munchies in the center of the table, Ben’s anger had dissipated and once again all he was left with was confusion.
He’d been on that roller coaster the past four days. Ben couldn’t believe she could so easily dismiss him as unsuitable.
“How’s apartment living?” Tripp asked.
Ben took a long pull from his bottle of beer. “There are worse things than being in close confines with a beautiful woman.”
“True.” Tripp grinned then sobered. “Everything okay?”
“What could be wrong?”
“You tell me.”
Ben simply stared.
“You about took my head off with several of those shots. Anna is tied up with a delivery so I have an excuse for not hurrying home. What’s yours?”
“I’m not married,” Ben snapped. “I don’t have to give Poppy an account of my whereabouts.”
Tripp’s eyes grew sharp and assessing. “I’ve known Poppy a long time.”
“So.”
“I knew her ex.” Tripp’s lip curled slightly. “Gayle and I used to go out with them about once a month. She was so in love with the guy it made her stupid.”
If anyone could understand loving too hard or too much, it’d be him. Empathy welled up inside Ben. “I’m not sure Poppy would be happy to hear you call her stupid.”
“I know for a fact she was hard on herself for believing his lies, for failing to see what was right in front of her all those years. But I have to say he was a slick one. Oozed charm.”
“She never suspected.” Ben said it as a statement, not a question.
Tripp shook his head. “Poppy is a trusting person. She just put that trust in the wrong man.”
“I remind her of him, I think.”
The hospital CEO gave a hoot of laughter. “You?” He shook his head. “You’re nothing like Bill.”
Ben gave a slight shrug and took a handful of the snack mixture, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.
“The whole experience made her gun-shy.” Tripp’s tone was matter-of-fact. “She no longer trusts her judgment.”
Before Ben could respond, Tripp changed the subject to the upcoming Taste of Jackson Hole event. While he listened to Tripp talk about the wine tasting expert who was coming this year, his mind considered Tripp’s assessment.
Could it be as simple as her being gun-shy? He knew the sexual attraction that sizzled between them wasn’t one-sided. She’d never have hopped into bed with him if she hadn’t been drawn to him.
How could she be so certain he wasn’t a man she could love? They got along. He’d found living with her to be surprisingly easy...and pleasurable.
In fact, he might be half in love with her already, but he refused to let himself fall too far. Theirs wouldn’t be a grand passion—he’d learned his lesson there—but the kind of love to build a strong marriage upon.
Though his father’s talk about marriage had irritated him, at his core, Ben was also a traditional guy.
Marriage made sense. The way he saw it, if he and Poppy could like each other, they could eventually love each other. If they married, they could raise their child together. No joint custody. No weekend visitation.
Of course, that was a lot of ifs. But the possibility intrigued him. When Ben had decided he wanted to make medicine his career and follow in the footsteps of his grandfather and dad, he’d devoted himself to his studies and to the extracurricular activities that looked good on a med school application. He was used to setting objectives and achieving his goals.
All he had to do was follow that same formula. He’d formulate a plan to make Poppy fall in love with him. Failure wasn’t an option.
Not with the future happiness of his child at stake.
Chapter Fifteen
In the span of a week, the pendulum of Poppy’s relationship with Ben had swung from comfortable to strained back to comfortable. She wasn’t quite sure of the reason.
At first she’d blamed the strain on the fact she’d told him quite honestly he was a man she would never love.
Even though up to this point Ben had demonstrated he was everything Bill was not, she’d been fooled before. Her ex had seemed to be the man of her dreams...at first.
The fact was, Ben seemed so perfect it scared her. How could she trust her judgment when she’d been so wrong before?
When she’d told Ben she was headed over to Anna’s house for a monthly book club meeting on Tuesday, he mentioned Tripp had invited him to come along. This would be Poppy’s first time attending the meeting of a close-knit group of friends and she had the feeling Anna had pushed to have her included.
While Poppy was happy she wouldn’t have to walk in alone, having Ben with her felt weird. She knew the women brought spouses and even their children, but Ben wasn’t her husband.
What would it be like to have Ben for a husband?
She immediately pushed the thought from her head. Ben was easy to live with, at least so far. She didn’t have to walk on eggshells and make sure to give him his space like she’d had to do with Bill. He didn’t dominate every conversation with his interests. He seemed genuinely interested in her and her life.
So far, she hadn’t seen any warning signs. Women flirted with him. He was friendly, courteous but nothing more. Of course, she’d also seen him glancing at pretty women with a look of appreciation in his eyes.
A yellow flag, but not a red one.
Perhaps she could put her toe in the water and give him more of a chance than she had so far. Not with marriage in mind, but with genuine friendship as a possible goal.
“What do you think of their new place?” Ben asked as they walked up the sidewalk to the new ranch house Tripp and Anna had built on Tripp’s parents’ land.
It was a large sprawling structure with big windows and a stone façade. Although the landscaping was new, the flowers were in full bloom.
“This is my first time here.” Her feet slowed almost imperceptibly as the front steps loomed.
“That surprises me.”
“I don’t know why.” Poppy forced a conversational tone. “I was a good friend of Tripp’s first wife, which makes things a bit awkward. Although I do hope Anna and I will end up being friends.”
“Is it hard for you to see Tripp with her?”
Poppy swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat. “I miss Gayle so much.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“I accept that life goes on.” Poppy puffed out her cheeks then released the air. “Gayle would want Tripp to be happy. And, while it kills me to admit it, in many ways Anna is better suited to him.”
“How so?”
“Both Tripp and Anna love Jackson Hole. Though she’d grown up here, Gayle was a big-city girl. And Anna has a good relationship with his parents. Gayle always said that in-laws were great...as long as they were two thousand miles away.”
“Interesting.”
“I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.” Poppy placed a hand on Ben’s sleeve. “Gayle and Tripp were very happy. When she died he was devastated.”
“That’s why it’s important never to love too deeply.”
Poppy brought her brows together. “What do you mean by that?”
But before he could answer, the door swung open and Anna and Tripp greeted them. While Anna looked elegant as always in a paisley wrap dress and strappy heeled sandals, Tripp had gone über-casual in jeans, chambray shirt and boots.
“I’m taking you with me to the kitchen.” Anna took Poppy’s arm then shifted her gaze to Ben. “The men will be in the family room. Tripp will get you whatever you want to drink.”
“I’m on call tonight,” Ben informed her. “Anything nonalcoholic works for me.”
To Poppy’s surprise, before he turned to go with Tripp, Ben brushed his lips against her cheek. “Later.”
Supremely conscious of Anna’s speculative gaze, Poppy kept her expression serene even as heat crept up her neck. They were halfway to the kitchen with Anna ready to pounce when the doorbell rang.
“That has to be Betsy and Ryan,” Anna said.
While Anna headed to the front door, Poppy continued on to the kitchen. Women were everywhere: standing by the counters talking, sitting at the table. She saw Lexi bent over, pulling a plate of appetizers from the oven.
“Do you need any help?” she asked her coworker.
“Thanks, but I’ve got it under control.” Lexi put the baking pan on a cooling rack, her pretty face flushed from the heat.
Like Anna, Lexi wore a dress, one in hunter green that was a perfect foil for her dark bob and creamy complexion. When Anna had informed Poppy the event was casual, she’d pulled on her last pair of black pants that still fit and coupled it with a bulky cotton sweater in blocks of red, black and white. Her ballet flat shoes were more comfortable than stylish.
Until Betsy entered the room wearing jeans and a simple flowered top, Poppy felt as if she’d been invited to a party and given the wrong dress code. Only when Mary Karen moved to ooh and aah over Betsy’s little boy, and Poppy noticed the mother of five was also wearing jeans, did she relax.
“Come over here, Poppy.” Mary Karen motioned to her. “I bet it’s been a while since you’ve held a little one. You’re going to need to get in some practice. Might as well start now. Love the glasses, by the way.”
Poppy didn’t feel particularly attractive this evening, but she appreciated the compliment. “Thanks, M.K.”
“Nate is almost a year.” Betsy kept a firm grip on her wriggling son. “Not all that little anymore.”
“He’s the smallest one here,” Mary Karen pointed out. “He’ll have to do.”
The dark-haired boy with the big gray eyes went easily into Poppy’s arms. But he was surprisingly heavy and after only a few seconds he squirmed to get down. Poppy glanced at Betsy and she nodded.
The second the nine-month-old’s sneaker-clad feet hit the floor, he was off and running.
“Isn’t he pretty young to be walking?” Poppy asked.
Mary Karen smiled. “I’ve had a couple walk that early while Sophie waited until thirteen months to take a first step.”
“About fifty percent of babies walk by one year. But anywhere from nine to sixteen months is considered normal,” Michelle Davis, a pediatrician, added.
The conversation then turned to babies and children. In the past, Poppy would have been bored stiff, but now she was fascinated. Soon, this world would be her reality.
“Food is ready,” Lexi announced. In addition to being a wife, mom and a social worker, Lexi also ran a catering business. While each woman attending the book club contributed to the dinner, Lexi always brought the entrée. She turned to Poppy. “Could you please let the men and kids know it’s time to come and fill their plates?”
Poppy couldn’t figure out why Lexi had asked her, until she realized that Anna was busy setting out the napkins and plates.
She’d passed the family room on the way back to the kitchen, but had only glanced at it. As Poppy stopped in the entryway, she took a moment to study the room. The ceilings were high with open beams and the massive furniture was deep burgundy leather. The floors were hardwood with woven rugs.
There was a large flat screen on one wall that was tuned to some sporting channel. Kids of all ages, shapes and sizes littered the room. Several older girls were putting a puzzle together on the coffee table. Poppy recognized one of them as Lexi’s oldest, Addie.
“The food is ready,” Poppy announced. “Lexi said to come and get it.”
Two identical blond-haired boys jumped to their feet. But Travis put a hand on their shoulders. “Ladies first,” he told his sons.
The girls smirked as they sauntered past.
Ben rose from the sofa where he’d been talking to Travis and moseyed over to her side. With a finger, he pushed a strand of hair back from her face. “How’s it going?”
The concern in his eyes told her she hadn’t been entirely successful in hiding her earlier trepidation. The fact he’d not only noticed, but cared, warmed her heart. “I was worried I’d dressed too casually, but I’m fine.”
His gaze dropped and he slowly surveyed her from top to bottom. She could feel the heat beneath her clothes rising to the surface wherever his gaze touched. “You look more than fine to me.”
An invisible web of attraction formed around them. Poppy found herself leaning into him.
“Hey, break it up.” Tripp punched Ben in the shoulder as he walked past. “This is a G-rated event.”
“Get your eyes checked, Randall,” Ben said mildly. “We’re just talking.”
“I know what both of you are thinking,” Tripp said to him, then shifted his gaze to Poppy.
Poppy just laughed. “You need to tout your talent as a mind reader during your upcoming mayoral bid. Trust me, it’ll set you apart.”
“Thanks for the suggestion.” There was a speculative gleam in Tripp’s eyes as Ben took her arm.
With his dark gray pants and pewter-colored shirt, Ben fit right in with the men whose attire ranged from Tripp’s jeans to Nick Delacourt, who’d come directly from a business meeting in his suit.
As she mulled over the clothing, she decided she really was a stick-in-the-mud. What happened to her spontaneity? Really, how many people spent time analyzing what everyone was wearing instead of simply focusing on enjoying themselves?
No more, Poppy told herself. Tonight she would have a good time. She would enjoy Ben’s company and participate in the book club discussion. And she wouldn’t give one more thought to clothing, glasses, or whether the women liked her enough to ask her back again.
Food was spread out on a large granite breakfast bar. With a serious expression, she pointed out to Ben that he was setting a bad example for the children by avoiding the salad because it included olives. A smile of pleasure lit his eyes at her teasing tone.
