Poppy ran her hands under his shirt to feel the heat of him. She tweaked his pert male nipples and he let out a moan. Desire filled her as she remembered the way he’d looked in the brief swim trunks. His body, beautifully sculpted, fit against hers just right.
His hands stole beneath her top to treat her to the same exploration. Her turgid nipples gloried in his touch, and when he paused to whip her top over her head, her excitement grew…as did his erection.
A cool breeze blew in from the ocean but it barely registered. She was so hot. Carl had instantly detected her shiver because he said, “It’s cooling off. Let’s take this inside.”
He picked up her discarded shirt and they hurried, arm-in-arm, through the patio doors.
It was the break she needed to come to her senses. Carl was an army man. What was she doing? “Carl, I don’t think I can do this,” she said as she pulled the shirt over her head.
“We’ll just kiss and cuddle. No hurry. No pressure. We can take this time to adjust to the changing of our relationship. If it’s meant to be, it will be. And if not, we’ll still be friends, Poppy.”
“Always and forever we will be friends. Good night, Carl.” She hurried to her room before she could change her mind. Carl was one super hot male and he’d set her body on fire with just a kiss. What kind of lover would he be? Tender and gentle? Or fast and furious? Either way worked for her. If only he wasn’t career army.
Chapter Seven
A cold shower took the edge off, but it didn’t stop his mind from dwelling on Poppy in the next room. Was she awake and regretting the need to run from him? Would she mind if he tapped on her door to resume their kiss? Or was she sleeping, all thoughts of him banished to the back of her mind?
He’d wanted the woman for more years than he could count on both hands. He’d fantasized being with her, loving her, day and night for so long that it was as if a permanent ache resided in his very soul. It was her face that filled his waking hours. Her body he wanted to please in his dreams. His own release would be a bonus, almost an afterthought to his need of pleasing Poppy.
But it wasn’t all about the sex, although he was certain sex with Poppy would be great. No, it was about who she was. He loved her, quirks and all. She was a beautiful woman inside and out. And she was a damn fine mother to her children.
He had to be content for now. He’d planted the seed. Now he just had to bide his time and watch it grow. In the meantime, he would show her how good they were together. They’d be here for three months. That should give him plenty of time to make himself indispensable…he hoped.
Carl donned his robe and ventured into the kitchen for a snack, something, anything, to occupy his hands and his mind. But the light was already on. He paused in the kitchen doorway and watched Poppy. It looked as if she was making an omelette. “Enough for two?”
She jumped and turned in one single move, one hand held over her heart and the spatula in the other.
“Carl, you just scared the dickens out of me. For a big man you sure move quietly. And yes, I can make enough for two.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. What can I do to help?”
“Peel and dice an onion?” she asked with a teasing smile.
Carl grinned. “Ahhh, the lady wants to see a grown man cry.” The minute he said the words, he wished he could recall them. The last time he’d cried was at Peter’s funeral. He’d lost his best friend, but it was Poppy and Nathan’s heart-wrenching sobs that had done him in.
Her smile vanished and she turned back to the counter where she busied herself with cracking eggs into a bowl and grating cheese. As he chopped the onion, she cored a green pepper, sliced off a couple of strips, and diced them. Next came the ham, which she also chopped into small pieces. She added the onion and whisked everything together before pouring it onto the hot griddle.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said while the omelette cooked. “How about you?”
She nodded and smiled but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I couldn’t sleep either. Relationships can be so confusing. I’m afraid I’ll be a big disappointment. What I mean is I…well…I’ve never been with anyone but Peter.”
She’d finished in a rush as if she needed to get the words out fast. A rosy hue now covered her face.
“Hey, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I’m not embarrassed, but I’m not ready to jump into anything either. Especially with you. We’ve been friends all our lives, Carl. What if we got involved and it didn’t work out? That could easily destroy our friendship and I don’t want that to happen.”
He took her hands in his and pulled her close. “You could never disappoint me, in bed or out of it. And we will always be friends, no matter what does or doesn’t happen between us.”
“I feel as if I’m letting you down, especially after all you’ve done for us.”
He shook his head. “Poppy, when and if we do get involved, it has to be because you want me as much as I want you and not out of a sense of gratitude. Understand?”
“Yes, I can understand that. And I do want you, but I have a few things to deal with in my own mind first.”
She turned to flip the omelette, effectively putting a stop to their conversation. He opened the cupboard and took out plates and forks.
“Do you want toast?” he asked.
“None for me thanks, but you go ahead.”
“I’m good. Milk or juice?’
“Milk, please.”
He poured two tall glasses full and carried them to the table as she dished up their impromptu meal. His first bite of the fluffy omelette was superb. “This is great. Delicious in fact.”
“Thank you. Sometimes I use chicken, bacon, or sausage, just to switch it up a bit.”
“I’ll have to remember that. Army rations only go so far. After a while you’d give almost anything for a home-cooked meal.”
Silence reigned for a few moments and he knew he’d put his foot in it again.
“Do you ever think of retiring, Carl? Maybe work at something where you’re not away from home so much?”
Carl considered the question, but in the end, there was only one answer he could give—the truth. “The army life is what I know, Poppy. And it’s something I’m good at. But it’s not only about fighting a war. It’s about helping people, bringing new life to war-ravaged towns, rebuilding, peacekeeping. I like knowing that I can make a difference in the lives of those who are hurting.”
She nodded. “Like you’ve done with the kids and I. Honestly, I don’t know how I would have fared after Peter’s death if not for you.”
“You’re a strong woman. You would’ve figured it out, but I was glad to help ease your burdens, if only for a little while. Peter was my best friend. Who better to make the arrangements and look after his family?”
“You are our family, too. The kids adore their Uncle Carl.”
“And you, Poppy? What do you feel?” he asked softly.
She snorted a laugh. “Confused, mostly. My body cries out for you. I melt when you hold me in your arms, but my mind is still muddling through what it would mean if we changed our relationship from platonic to lovers. You’ve always been like an older brother, looking out for me from the time we were kids alone in that orphanage.”
“Ouch! A direct hit.” He grimaced. “So how do I go about changing your perception of me?”
“It’s already started. Just be patient with me and know that I love having you near.”
She rose to rinse her plate and load it in the dishwasher. He did the same. An awkward silence followed as they stood in the quiet kitchen. He wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly she was in his arms and kissing him soundly. Then his arms were empty.
“Good night, Carl.” That was all she said as she turned toward the hallway and her room.
“Sweet dreams, Poppy,” he whispered to her retreating back. “Sleep well.”
***
Poppy opened the window in her room, appre
ciating the ocean breeze more than any air conditioner. She fell asleep to the sounds of seagulls flying overhead and the steady swishing motion of the water as it lapped the shore and retreated repeatedly.
Morning brought bright sunshine streaming into her room. She crawled out of bed to close the blinds hoping to get a little more shuteye after the sleepless night, but a solo figure on the beach drew her attention.
This morning he wore skimpy, bright red Speedos that hugged his skin and showed off the muscles in his legs as he lunged right and then left, right and then left. His arms moved to punch the air forward in rhythm with every lunge. He was a remarkable sight even though he favored his left leg. His skin glistened with the effort, the early morning sun making it appear bronzed. He probably wouldn’t appreciate having an audience, but she was loath to look away and miss any moves. This had to be part of his exercise regimen.
Sure enough, he finished his stretches and ran into the water. When he dived beneath the waves, she held her breath waiting for him to surface. He swam away from her and was soon just a speck on the ocean.
She heaved a heavy sigh and turned away from the window, blinds forgotten when she noticed her swimsuit hanging from the shower rod through the open bathroom door. Quick as she could, she brushed her teeth and donned the suit. When he came back to the beach, she’d be waiting.
Then she remembered her kids. Good Lord! What was happening to her? She’d never been negligent where Nathan and Becky were concerned. Did lusting after a man remove every shred of common sense?
Guilty because of her lapse, she tiptoed into their rooms to find both children sound asleep. Resigned, she went to the kitchen and put coffee on to brew, then filled her mug and went to sit on the deck overlooking the ocean. If she couldn’t take an early swim, she might just as well work on getting a tan. It wasn’t her fault that all the lounge chairs faced the ocean.
So she watched and she waited. Her vigilance paid off. She registered his powerful, even strokes as he swam toward shore. Then he stood and her jaw dropped open at the sheer magnificence of the man. The urge to touch, to lick the water droplets from his body, had her squirming with need.
At that precise moment, he looked up and their gazes locked, held for an indeterminate time. Then he swooped down, grabbed his towel, and sprinted toward the stairs leading up to the deck.
Nerves all a flutter from being caught staring, Poppy jumped up and paced to the railing and back. She was at a loss as to what to do.
Then he was standing at the top of the stairs, his lips curved upward in a smile of delight and his arms outstretched. She ran to him wanting nothing more than to hold him, be held by him, and yet wanting everything he had to offer.
“What’s happening to us, Carl?”
He held her a little away from him and searched her eyes, her expression. He seemed to see through to her very soul.
“I can only speak for myself and I’m not sure they are words you’re ready to hear.”
She rested her head against his chest, only now aware of his wet body. Using every ounce of willpower she possessed, she stepped back. “You should dry off before you catch a chill.”
The moment she left his arms, she felt a chill clear through to her bones and almost reached for him again. “If you don’t mind listening for the children, I think I’ll go for a swim. Coffee’s on.”
“Yes, of course. But Poppy? Are you all right?”
“I will be. See you shortly.”
She fairly flew down the stairs and slowed only when she reached the water’s edge. The sand was warm already and it was still early. She waded in until the water was up to her waist and then ducked under and swam. All thoughts slipped from her mind as she concentrated on swimming, stroke after energizing stroke. When she started to tire, she turned onto her back and allowed the waves to propel her toward the beach. As she floated back to shore, one thought remained uppermost in her mind…this would definitely be a vacation to remember.
Chapter Eight
The opening of the screen door interrupted both his view of the woman swimming and his thoughts concerning their most recent embrace.
“Uncle Carl, I’m hungry. Where’s Mommy?”
“Good morning, Nathan. Your mom went for a swim. How about you and I fix breakfast before she gets back?”
“Bacon and eggs?” Nathan asked.
“If that’s want you want.”
“Toast and juice, too?”
“Sure thing, buddy. Let’s get cookin’.” Carl took one last longing look at the ocean, now unable to spot Poppy, and then ushered Nathan inside.
He took the bacon out of the fridge, passed it to Nathan, and then carried the carton of eggs over to the counter. Once the bacon was frying, he took the bread out of the cupboard.
“Can I make the toast?” Nathan asked.
Carl passed him the bread and watched as he pulled out two slices. He couldn’t quite reach the toaster, so Carl went to the pantry closet and came back with a stool.
“Here, buddy. Stand on this, but be careful.”
Nathan stepped up onto the stool, put the bread in the toaster, and pushed the lever down. Then he turned and jumped down, a huge grin lighting up his face.
“I did it, Uncle Carl. I reached-ed it!”
“Great! We need eight slices. You’ll need the butter and a butter knife for when the toast pops.” He laid them out for him and went back to the stove to flip the bacon. He watched as Nathan carefully removed the slices from the toaster and put in two more. Buttering them was kind of hit and miss, but he did quite well for a five-year-old.
Carl had just broken the first egg into the pan when he heard the patio door in the living room open. He cracked open the second one as Poppy appeared in his peripheral vision and almost let it drop on the floor as he turned to smile at her. What a mess that would’ve been.
“Do I have time for a quick shower?” she asked.
“If you make it real quick. Breakfast is almost ready.”
“We wanted to surprise you, Mommy. I makin’ toast,” said Nathan.
“Good job. Where’s Becky?”
“Still sleeping,” replied Carl. “I think. Maybe I should have checked on her.”
Poppy shook her head as she glanced at the kitchen clock. “It’s early yet. She’ll wake soon. After the busy day we had yesterday, I’m not surprised at her sleeping in.”
“All right, then go grab that shower.”
She saluted him. “Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir.”
Nathan giggled as she exited the kitchen. Carl grinned. Here he was, trying not to remind her of the army, and she saluted him. Would he ever figure out how to act around her? Or was she finally seeing him as a man? Or accepting that he was a career army man?
Becky wandered into the kitchen rubbing the sleep from her eyes and he picked her up for a morning kiss. She resembled a miniature Poppy and he couldn’t help but love her. He glanced at Nathan, still busy with the toast, so he stood Becky on her feet and turned the heat off under the eggs. “It’s time to set the table.”
“I’ll get the juice,” Nathan said.
“I don’t think so, buddy. It’s full and it’s heavy. We don’t want a repeat of what happened at your house.”
Nathan’s face fell into a pout of embarrassment and Carl regretted the reminder. The kid was only trying to help.
“But you can put the glasses on the table,” Carl said as he took them out of the cupboard and set them on the counter within easy reach.
Carl dished up their breakfasts and set the plates and silverware on the table. He poured juice for the kids and refilled coffee mugs for him and Poppy.
Then Poppy entered, fresh from her shower. Her long blond hair looked darker when wet, but that’s not what initially drew his gaze. Her feet were bare…such perfect, well-formed feet…small for such a tall woman. His gaze ran up her long, slender legs to the short white shorts she wore. Braless, he saw her nipples bead in reaction to his interest, the tight orange
tank top outlining their fullness.
He swallowed, hard, and his gaze locked with hers. With the desire written on her expression, he wished he could take her in his arms and carry her to his bed for a morning romp.
Instead, he forced himself to look away, just in time to see Becky flood her eggs with ketchup. He grabbed the bottle and righted it, effectively calming his libido as he avoided another mishap such as the syrup fiasco.
“You two really like ketchup,” he said.
“Yep,” said Nathan and Becky at the same time.
Both wore grins similar to their mother’s smile and he smiled back as Poppy took her seat and began to eat.
His heart swelled with gratitude as he looked around the table. This was the only family he’d ever wanted…Poppy the only woman he’d ever loved.
He dearly hoped she’d come to care about him in the same way. If not, it wouldn’t be for a lack of persuasion on his part. Either way, they would have a summer to remember. He’d make sure of it.
***
Peter had never cooked her breakfast. When he’d been home on leave, he’d expected to be waited on and pampered, and she’d done just that, so happy to have him home. They’d never gone on a vacation, except for their honeymoon, and that consisted of a weekend in a hotel not far from home. He’d always cited the excuse that traveling for work was enough. Had he ever considered her needs? Her wants? True, she hadn’t gone out of her way to convince him, but it would’ve been nice to get away from the same four walls day-in and day-out. Peter had been selfish with his time and attention. Why hadn’t she seen that before?
Carl was so different. He cared for them and fixed things around the house without her ever having to ask. He’d brought them on this vacation because he wanted to…not out of a sense of duty, but because he really wanted their company.
A Soldier for Poppy Page 6
