by Cindy Kirk
“Thanks for the invitation.”
She gave a snorting laugh that caught in her throat when he slowly slid inside, his arms tensed on either side of her.
“Hard,” she ordered, writhing beneath him.
“I thought I should be gentle.”
“Think again.” She wrapped her legs around him.
It was tricky. The sofa was, after all, only so wide. But she wouldn’t—couldn’t—take time to move to the floor or a bed. Poppy’s hips moved like pistons as he pushed in and out, his breath coming in pants, matching hers.
She tried to hold on, but the need for him swamped her. She quivered and clenched, crying out his name as the orgasm hit.
Seconds later he gave one final thrust and filled her, then collapsed on top of her, skin wet with sweat.
“That was the best dessert,” she said with shaky laughter. “Even better than the red velvet cake.”
Ben chuckled softly as he nuzzled her neck. He remained inside her, and before long, he was hard again. The fullness had her body thrumming with anticipating. With her arms wrapped around his neck she began to move beneath him.
Ben looked up, met her gaze. “Don’t tell me—”
She kissed him hard. “Yep, I want seconds.”
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning Ben woke before the alarm. He took a moment to study the woman sleeping beside him. Poppy’s dark hair was tousled around her face and she’d flung one arm across her eyes, as if the soft light filtering through the window shades was too bright.
Last night he’d pulled out one of his white T-shirts when she’d insisted she couldn’t sleep naked. It had ridden up while she slept and barely covered those full, luscious breasts. She looked...beautiful.
Mine, he thought. All mine.
Giving in to temptation, he brushed a light kiss across her cheek.
Stirring, her eyes fluttered open. Then her lips lifted. “Hi.”
“Good morning.”
“I’d ask if you were interested in staying in bed a little longer but you have that ‘I need to get going,’ look on your face.” She covered a yawn with her fingers.
“A hip replacement is calling my name.” He gave in to temptation and kissed her again. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”
Poppy sighed when he pulled back. “Will you be home for dinner tonight?”
“I won’t,” he said with honest regret. “Basketball at the Y.”
Poppy propped herself up on one elbow. “Are you planning to eat prior to the game?”
“I doubt I’ll have time.”
“What if I have a snack to tide me over, then whenever you get home we can eat together?”
Just the fact that she would offer made Ben realize how far they’d come. “Great plan.”
“I’m always thinking.” She slipped her shirt over her head in one swift movement.
Desire hit him like a bone mallet. Ben glanced at the clock. Could he make it work?
Poppy wound her arms around his neck, her taut nipples brushing against his bare chest.
She gazed at him through lowered lashes. “Someone once told me we make time for what’s important.”
To hell with it, Ben thought and crushed his mouth against hers.
* * *
If Poppy had known she’d be stopping by Ben’s office today, she’d have worn a suit rather than a dress to work. Most of those in his office were strangers to her, and there was always the possibility she’d run into his father.
Only a couple hours ago, Poppy had been asked by a county judge to schedule a meeting with Dr. Sanchez. Mitzi had been the specialist who’d repaired a fractured hand on a little girl in Poppy’s caseload.
The child’s family doctor was concerned over the girl’s therapy progress. The judge was reconsidering his decision to allow the eight-year-old to remain in a home where the mother had previously been cited for neglect.
Poppy called the orthopedic clinic shortly after receiving the request. To her surprise, Ben’s associate had squeezed her in over the lunch hour. Not wanting to keep Mitzi waiting, Poppy arrived ten minutes early.
Professionally decorated in shades of gray and burgundy, the clinic waiting room had an aura of understated wealth and comfort. There was an area off to one side that appeared to be for younger patients, filled with books, puzzles, a wooden train on a table and a television tuned to a kids’ channel.
A receptionist sat inputting data into the computer behind an opened glass window. She looked up when Poppy’s heels clattered on the tile floor.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said in a pleasant, well-modulated tone even before Poppy reached the window. “The office is closed between twelve and one.”
“I have an appointment with Dr. Sanchez at twelve-fifteen.” Poppy flashed a smile. “Could you please tell her Poppy Westover is here?”
“One moment.” The redhead lifted the receiver just as Ben’s father came through the door.
He came to an abrupt stop. Surprise skittered across his face. “Poppy. Hello. Unfortunately, if you’re here to see Ben, he’s in surgery.”
“Actually I’m here to meet with Mitzi, er, Dr. Sanchez, about a case.”
The older man smiled. “That’s right. You’re a social worker.”
“Ms. Westover, Dr. Sanchez isn’t quite ready.” The receptionist gestured to the waiting room. “If you’ll take a seat, I’ll let you know as soon as she’s available.”
“Helene, tell Dr. Sanchez to come to my office when she’s free,” Ben’s father said. “Poppy will be with me.
“Dori and I were sorry to miss the party on Saturday,” John said easily as he ushered her down the hall. “We wished we could have spent time with you and Ben.”
“Ben mentioned something about an anniversary party?”
“Our friends were celebrating forty years of marriage. Dori had been one of the bridesmaids.” He opened a door at the end of the hall and motioned her inside. “I’m glad our paths crossed. There’s something I need to clear up.”
He must have caught her look of panic because he smiled and winked. “Trust me. This won’t hurt a bit.”
The smile was so like Ben’s that Poppy felt herself relax. Still, her heart fluttered as she stepped into the large, well-appointed office. Diplomas and various certificates hung on the wall along with a Robert Wood painting of the Grand Tetons. A magnificent desk in glossy cherrywood dominated the room, along with a monitor twice the size of the one in Poppy’s office.
At his direction, Poppy took a seat and discovered the barrel chairs in burgundy leather were not only stylish but comfortable.
“I believe my son told you about our discussion concerning his responsibility to you.” He folded his large hands, suddenly serious. “I admire you for being willing to take on the challenge of raising a child alone, but there’s no reason you should have to face this by yourself.”
“I’m not.” Poppy leaned forward. “Ben is more than shouldering his share of the responsibility.”
“He hasn’t married you.”
“I wouldn’t marry him even if he asked.”
“You—what?” The man blinked. “What’s wrong with my son?”
“Nothing,” Poppy assured him. “It’s just that I was married before. To a man who lied and cheated on me. It was a horrible experience and one I don’t care to repeat.”
“Then don’t.”
Poppy felt herself relax. “Thank you for understanding.”
“You shouldn’t marry a man who’d cheat and lie to you. But Ben isn’t like your ex-husband. He’s decent and honorable. A good man and someone you can trust.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting—” Mitzi stood in the partially open doorway, looking exceptionally pretty
in a bold dress of lime green and fuchsia. Her white lab coat served as a nice buffer to the eye-popping colors.
Relieved, Poppy jumped to her feet. “No, John, er, Dr. Campbell, was kind enough to keep me company.”
She turned back to Ben’s father and extended her hand. “Good speaking with you.”
The doctor took Poppy’s hand then covered it with his other one. “Promise you’ll come out to the ranch again soon.”
“I will.” Poppy turned to Mitzi. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.”
Poppy followed Mitzi to her office, noticing the doctor’s four-inch heels were the same shade of green as her dress.
“Happy to help.” Mitzi gestured to a pair of chairs. “Have a seat.”
Poppy eyed the two wingbacks and decided on the bright blue leather one. “I love primary colors. But then I gravitate to the bold.”
“So do I.” Instead of moving behind the desk, Mitzi sat in the adjacent chair in cherry red. “How’s it working out?”
“I have the particulars of Amanda Burlinsky’s situation right here.” Poppy reached into the black eel-skin briefcase and pulled out the papers.
“I wasn’t referring to Mandy.” Mitzi’s lips lifted in amusement. “Though I definitely want to discuss her situation. I was referring to you and Ben living together.”
Poppy’s fingers tightened on the papers. “It’s going well. We went to the book club meeting at Tripp and Anna Randall’s last night.”
She quickly explained about choosing a word and Mitzi promised to explain it all to Kate.
“Ben went with you?” Mitzi asked.
“Lots of men were there.”
“I know, but I’d asked him several times while we were dating if he wanted to go with me and he always had some excuse.” Mitzi’s gaze grew thoughtful. “And you said living together is going well?”
Poppy nodded.
“That surprises me.” Mitzi’s expression turned pensive. “I’d have sworn he’d be difficult to live with.”
“Why?”
Though they were alone, Mitzi’s tone lowered to a confidential whisper. “It’s just we both know Ben likes things his own way.”
Poppy didn’t have to fake confusion. His colleague could have been describing Poppy’s ex, but not the man who currently had his clothes stowed in the guest bedroom of her apartment.
Unless...
A cold chill traveled up Poppy’s spine. Unless she hadn’t been paying attention. Unless once again she’d missed critical signs. Her heart slammed against her ribs. “I haven’t noticed that from him, but then it’s early days yet.”
“Perhaps it was just our dynamics.” Mitzi’s tone said that was extremely doubtful. “I’m happy it’s working out for you.”
“Like I said, it’s early days.”
“His parents weren’t keen on us being together,” Mitzi continued. “Which made it awkward, considering his father is at the helm of this group.”
When Poppy didn’t respond, Mitzi’s sharp-eyed gaze searched her face. “You don’t know me or whether I can be trusted. But I can and I’m here for you.”
“Okay,” was all Poppy could think to say in response.
Mitzi glanced at the file on her lap. “Tell me what’s going on with Mandy.”
Poppy quickly detailed the situation, sticking to relevant data. “Basically, the concern is that the mother has been neglectful in not helping her daughter with the therapy.”
“The notes I received from Meg Lassiter indicated both the mother and the daughter understood the importance of the exercises and had demonstrated proper technique.” Mitzi frowned. “I’m surprised Dr. Pardee didn’t call me directly about this instead of contacting the judge.”
“I was surprised, too,” Poppy told her. “I’d done a home visit and noticed Mandy wasn’t using her right hand.”
“I’d like to examine her,” Mitzi said. “Why don’t you bring her and her mother to the office? Have Meg come, too, if she’s available.”
“I’ll set it up.” Poppy pulled to her feet. “Thanks, Mitzi.”
“I hope things work out between you and Ben,” Mitzi said, walking with her to the door.
“Thank you.” Poppy saw no need to tell Mitzi that the only thing she wanted was for Ben to be a good father to their baby. If that happened, she’d be satisfied.
* * *
Shortly after she arrived home from the office, Poppy opened the refrigerator door and tried to think of a nutritious snack to tide her over until dinner.
She was still staring into the cool depths when she heard the key in the lock. She turned and let the door fall shut. Ben.
He smiled and when he started toward her, Poppy’s heart flip-flopped.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” He leaned over and kissed her.
With a movement that was beginning to feel natural, Poppy wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. “This is a nice surprise. What happened to the basketball game?”
“Rescheduled.” His fingers played with her hair. “They forgot to mention they were resurfacing the floors.”
“That’s too bad.”
“I suppose.” Ben’s gaze met hers. “After my last surgery, I stopped by the clinic. My dad told me you’d been by—”
“I stopped to discuss a case with Mitzi,” Poppy clarified. “She wasn’t ready for me when I arrived, so your father and I had some time alone. We, ah, cleared the air.”
“He appreciated your honesty,” was all Ben said before changing the subject. “What sounds good for dinner?”
“I’m craving spaghetti.” Poppy sighed. “But there’s no pasta in the house.”
“Then let’s go get some.” He flashed a smile. “It’ll be an adventure.”
“If you say so.” She grabbed her jacket and purse on the way out the door.
“I rarely go to the grocery store.” Ben stepped back and opened the car door for her. “I make a list and Angela does the shopping. I believe she enjoys it.”
Poppy decided she and Angela would get along. After all, she enjoyed shopping, too.
The grocery store parking lot held only a few cars and trucks. Ben found a space near the door.
An older man who was walking out when they were walking in, slowed his steps and smiled. “Dr. Campbell, good to see you.”
“Hello, Lionel. You’re looking good.”
“Thanks to you,” the balding man with the ruddy complexion replied.
“Who’s that?” Poppy asked as the man headed for his vehicle.
“Lionel Freeman.” Ben kept his tone equally low. “He got a new hip six months ago.”
“It can be intoxicating.” Poppy thought of Bill and how he’d reveled in the adoration of his patients. “Having people so grateful.”
“I don’t know about intoxicating.” Ben chuckled. “Let’s just say it’s always better to have a patient happy rather than dissatisfied.”
Once they got inside Ben insisted on pushing the cart. The lights overhead were blinding white and the tile floor beneath their feet gleamed.
Ben picked up a cantaloupe. “How do we know if this is a good one?”
“First, look at the color,” Poppy said. “The lighter the better. You want it beige, not green. Then push on the blossom end. It should have a nice give, but not too much. And lastly—” she lifted it to her nose and then offered it to him “—you want a sweet smell. But not smelly.”
Ben obligingly took a sniff, then glanced at her. “A good one.”
“Definitely.”
It didn’t take long to get checked out but by the time Poppy had pulled out her money, Ben had already swiped his card. The innocent look on his face didn’t fool her in the least.
&
nbsp; As he pushed the cart to the car, she shot him a warning glance. “I’ve got a tally going. We’re splitting everything fifty-fifty.”
“Then tell me what I owe for my share of the rent.”
“You don’t owe anything.”
“You said we were splitting everything.”
“You may be living with me, but you’re still making house payments.” Poppy reached for a sack.
Ben gently, but firmly pushed back her hands. “These are too heavy for you.”
“Oh, come on.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “I’ve been doing my own grocery shopping for years.”
“You’re pregnant,” he pointed out. “I’m in charge of lifting sacks. You’re in charge of picking perfect produce.”
“Okay,” she said somewhat sulkily, but had to admit she enjoyed watching him bend over and place the bags in the trunk.
“Better get in the car,” he told her as thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. “Unless you’re in the mood for a shower.”
It wasn’t until her apartment building was in sight that scattered drops of rain began to dot the windshield. Poppy was greeted by a loud clap of thunder when she opened her car door.
“You head inside.” Ben glanced up. Dark clouds now blanketed the sky. “I’ll take care of the bags.”
“I’ll unlock the door.” Poppy hurried up the steps. Only when she’d reached the door did she realize she’d left her purse in the car. On the way down to retrieve it, she met Ben coming up. At his questioning look, she rolled her eyes. “I left my purse in the car.”
“I can get it.”
She glanced pointedly at the sacks in his arms. “I’d say you already have your hands full.”
After retrieving her bag from the front seat, Poppy moseyed around to the open trunk. She tentatively hefted a sack of toiletries. It had to weigh less than her purse. She chewed on her lower lip and considered the remaining sack. It, too, was only half-filled. If she took these bags up with her, they’d be done.
Another smattering of raindrops made the decision easy. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Poppy grabbed the handles of the two sacks and headed for the stairs. Several more windblown raindrops hitting her cheeks had her picking up the pace.
