Running From Love

by Maggie Marr

  Poppy lifted her head and her gaze locked with Trevor’s. Dogged determination lined his mouth. He was right. They were both making a choice, each day they woke up, to stay. No one forced her to remain and no one forced him either. “You’re right,” Poppy said, her voice softer. “I just … I start to feel so overwhelmed and pinned down … so I don’t know … I just—”

  Trevor knelt beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. “I understand that feeling. Where everything is already decided for you and you’ve got no choices and you feel like you’re locked into something you don’t want and nobody even asked you.” His gaze was warm and swept over her face. “I’ve felt all that since I was a kid. But being with you, I don’t feel trapped anymore. I want to be here. I want to be with you. I want to build something together. Of course we can change it or leave it and build other things, but right now, today, the choice I’m making is for you and me to be together.”

  Poppy’s body tingled. She loved him. She wanted him. He kissed her, and the heat that terrified her and yet caused her to cling to him burned through her body. With his lips pressed to hers, she lay back into the lushness of the plush, soft rug. She yanked at his shirt and pulled it over his head. She needed him with a fast and furious intensity. A want so deep there was a hard ache between her legs. She wanted Trevor to fill her, to make her feel the closeness and the rightness of them together. His mouth slid down her neck and his hand trailed over her body.

  Then a thought occurred to her, and she pulled away. “What about—”

  “They went to a wedding boutique in Malibu.”

  And with his words any concern for their friends on the first floor slipped from Poppy’s mind. “Please. I want you. I want you so badly.”

  Trevor had their clothes off in an instant. Their skin pressed together. His lips again trailed over her belly, to the slick spot between her legs that throbbed with ache and want and desire.

  He parted her legs with his hands. “Baby, you’re so beautiful.” His tongue slid down her center and then his lips closed around her nub and he sucked her into his mouth. His tongue circled her clit, licking the engorged flesh. Her hips bucked upward, but Trevor’s hand held her still.

  “Oh Trevor, oh my God, please,” she panted out. Her body edging along the sharp cliff of desire. His tongue stroked in a slow long circle, while his mouth sucked. His hand caressed the tight bud of her nipple. Her body tightened. Each muscle hardening in aroused pleasure.

  He pulled his mouth from her sex and her hips rolled upward, unbidden and yet needing, seeking the release that his mouth would provide. His lips trailed up over her body until they were face to face. She hitched her leg around him and rolled him to his back. His hard sex was between them. She needed this, she needed him inside her, she wanted this glorious feeling of being alive. She hovered above him and the head of his hard cock edged into the tight muscles of her sex. He clasped her breast with one hand. She wanted this. She had to take him, have him deep inside her.

  “You’re beautiful.” Trevor’s fingertip stroked her clit, still engorged and sensitive from his mouth. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” His touch nearly sent her over the edge. Her sex clenched and she slid the head of Trevor’s cock into her hot center.

  “Poppy. God, Poppy.” Lust shadowed his face and his muscles tensed as he fought the urge to ram up into her. She slowly lowered her body down his shaft.

  Trevor’s breathing shortened and the muscles in his jaw flinched. His hands clutched her hips. Her body tightened around his thick shaft.

  “Fuck,” Trevor breathed out. She raised up and then slid back down. His hands grasped her breasts and he lifted up to pull her nipple deep into the needy heat of his mouth. Sucking with such intensity her sex quivered. His teeth scraped against the aroused flesh of her nipple. Poppy’s hips moved forward and back.

  In this moment she felt no fear, no uncertainty, no walls closing in, no expectations she couldn’t meet. In this moment only she and Trevor and the heat between them existed. All-consuming pleasure and a deep love.

  Her control was nearly gone. His fingers again found her clit and circled the sensitive flesh. She rode him harder and faster. Her head dropped backward. She grasped his thigh with one hand and rose up and down, her body now moving to a fast rhythm, their flesh slapping together. Their skin. Their flesh. She tilted her head forward to watch the spot where his hard cock met her soft flesh. Her entire body tightened at the sight.

  “Oh my God Poppy, Poppy.” Trevor’s voice was thick with want. With a quick movement he flipped her onto her back so he was above her. “You’re mine, Poppy. You’re mine.” He rammed into her sex deep and hard. She pulled her legs tightly around him. Pleasure washed over them both. His eyes locked to hers, their coupling flying high into the sky, into the unlimited pleasure of this moment and what felt like forever.

  *

  Trevor padded across the living room floor bare-assed naked. He lit the fire and turned toward the wall of windows. This house, this space, afforded them privacy and luxury and time alone, and yet … Poppy had been nearly overwhelmed by just the talk of having to attend a birthday party and a wedding. Of course her feelings were raw from Therese’s death, and she was processing deep emotions. But he couldn’t have provided her any more stability and safety than he had over the last month, and yet she’d still wanted to run. The fire roared to life.

  Trevor padded back toward the kitchen. He and Poppy wouldn’t see Ryan and Charla again today because Ryan had a business dinner tonight, and then the two of them were holing up in their hotel for a romantic evening. Of course their friends understood what had happened with Poppy today. Trevor pulled cheese and fruit and wine from the refrigerator. He was being damned supportive, and that was why her wanting to leave earlier had thrown him. He got that she was grieving, but she’d been accusatory, as though he were forcing her to stay. No one could ever force Poppy to do anything.

  At the sound of footfalls on the stairs, he glanced over. His heart contracted. She was naked too, but a million times more beautiful. Her lips were still swollen and red from their lovemaking, her body a wonderland of pleasure for him. To lose her would end him. End the possibility of love in his life. He turned toward the knife block and plucked out a serrated breadknife. He grabbed a baguette and set it on the cutting board.

  “You scared the hell out of me today.” Trevor sliced through the fresh bread. He glanced up at her. Poppy wore an embarrassed, repentant look on her face.

  She pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry.” She plucked a grape from the tray where he’d set the brie and blue cheese. “I got overwhelmed.”

  “By what? The fact that people love you?” He pressed his lips tight together. He shouldn’t have said it … he knew …

  Her face hardened, the repentance gone, replaced with a defensive look. Cloudy eyes. Tight lips. “Maybe this isn’t the life I ever asked for, maybe because I feel like I’m being steered toward something that I’m not sure I want.”

  Trevor stopped cutting and set the knife on the counter. He looked up at the woman he loved. He was mad for her. He’d do anything to ensure her happiness, even if he had to let her go. “I love you. You need to believe me when I say I will do whatever it takes for you to be happy. And that includes getting the suitcase from the garage and packing it for you, if you’re convinced that’s what you need.”

  Her breasts heaved up and down with his words. Any anger she’d felt slid from her face.

  He softened his tone and returned his focus to the baguette. “I think that’s your fear talking.” He placed the sliced bread on the tray beside the cheeses. “I think you actually like being a part of something that includes people you love and who love you, but”—he walked around the corner of the kitchen island and grasped both of Poppy’s shoulders—“I think you’re scared something will happen and they’ll leave you. So you think about leaving them first, because then you feel like you’re in control o
f the pain you know you’ll feel.” He tilted her head up and she met his gaze. “Once we love, we’ve relinquished all control over our hearts, over our lives, even over our future.”

  Her tongue trailed across her lip, and at the base of her throat her heartbeat pulsed at a furious rate.

  “That terrifies me,” Poppy whispered.

  “I know,” Trevor said. “Lucky for us, we can take everything one moment at a time. And in this moment, we’re going to eat cheese. And watch the sunset. The sky has finally cleared just in time for the best show of the day.”

  “I love you.” Her bottom lip quivered. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Trevor said. “Just stay with me to watch the sun sink into the ocean and then we’ll see what comes next.”

  Chapter 17

  Charla pushed another wedding dress along the rack. The clerk was about to stroke out. Charla was marrying one of the richest men in the world and she was actually shopping the sale rack.

  “Look at that.” Charla pointed to a tag that displayed a price ending in four zeroes. “My first car cost less than that! How can I spend that much money on a dress? A dress!” Charla turned and walked toward the artful display of fruit and champagne on the center table of the boutique.

  “Miss Duvall, your room is ready when you are.”

  “Thank you.” Charla sat on the chaise beside Poppy.

  “There are expectations with this wedding,” Poppy said.

  “Right, I get it, but does it have to cost a million dollars?”

  Poppy gulped her champagne. “What?”

  “Right? My sentiments exactly. The way Ryan is with this wedding, it’s like he has no concept of money. Private jets, and flowers, and a special chef from Paris and five hundred people and—”

  “Five hundred people?”

  “And he’s hired the London Philharmonic. He’s flying the entire string section in.”

  “Wow,” Poppy said. “I just can’t—”

  “Right, neither can I. And now he’s giving me all kinds of grief about buying my dress off the rack. Or his mother is. Wants me to go meet with some Karl person in Paris—”

  “Would that be Karl Lagerfeld? The executive designer for Chanel?”

  “Please!” Charla placed her hands under her breasts. “Do these ta-tas look like they can handle couture?”

  Poppy grinned. She’d forgotten just how cheeky her former roommate could be. Charla always made her feel happier.

  “But if you get a Chanel gown …” Poppy let her words trail off and lifted an eyebrow.

  “Then you do too?” Charla finished her sentence. “Is that what you’re getting at? Fine. Done. If it’ll keep you from speeding your crazy-train off the tracks, then Paris it is.” Charla grabbed her jacket and her purse. “Thank you!” She called over her shoulder as she grabbed Poppy’s hand and hurried out of the shop.

  “What? Seriously?”

  “Yes,” Charla said. “The one thing I’ve learned from watching Ryan at work in the last few months is how to be decisive. If you like the idea, and the other person likes the idea, then damn, just let that idea roll. Don’t hem and haw and wonder and worry. Nope. No longer ever doing that.” Her driver opened the back car door and both of them slid into the car.

  “Take us back to Casa Del Sol,” Charla said. “We’re going to sit in the spa and get our massage on. My treat. Besides tonight’s a big night, right? Doesn’t Trevor have to let his mom know what he’s doing?”

  Poppy’s chest tightened. “He does. I don’t know. We talked about it. I think he’s going to take over Up Side.”

  “And you?” Charla asked. “What are you going to do?”

  Poppy leaned her head back against the soft leather of the seats. “I’m afraid to do what I want to do.”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  Poppy looked into Charla’s eyes. “I love him, I really really love him.”

  “Girl, you are preachin’ to the choir on that one, because I’ve told you for a very long time that you love Trevor, and Trevor loves you, and that the two of you are just abso-frickin’-lutely perfect together and I still believe that. Okay?”

  Poppy smiled. Charla had told her just that for months and months at Mesquale. “I know and it’s true. But it scares me. Terrifies me. I mean, I know I love him, but then I start thinking about being with him forever and building a life and what if something goes wrong—”

  “Which it will.”

  Poppy’s jaw gaped. Charla had always been so supportive. “Why are you saying that?”

  “Come on, Poppy? You’re smart. Something will go wrong. Something always goes wrong. This is life, not a friggin’ fairytale. What if something does go wrong? So what? I mean, you’re not going to crumble. You’re too strong, and besides I won’t let you. But yes, something will go wrong. Look at Ryan’s life before me? With Paloma? Do you think he ever thought he’d be marrying a big-boobed girl from the middle of America? No, of course not. He loved Paloma. Really loved her. And what happened was a tragedy. But he’s alive and we’re in love, and for this to be our reality … something bad had to happen first.”

  “I can hardly believe how well-adjusted you are about all that.”

  “What’s my choice?” Charla asked. “I seem to remember someone giving me a similar talking-to on a beach not too long ago. Telling me about love and how special it is and how much it means and how you have to reach out and grab it.”

  “Easy for me to say when I was talking about you.”

  “Exactly. But the same rules apply.” Charla grasped the already-open champagne and poured each of them a glass. “When there’s love, take it. Run with it. Roll yourself up like that love is a warm snuggly blanket. Leave all your fears behind.”

  “You make it sound so easy.” Poppy couldn’t imagine being able to just let go of her fears … but then again … what kept her from releasing them?

  “It’s not easy. I’ve had to make peace with a ghost and a memory and a woman who was so astoundingly perfect in so many people’s eyes. Because the only way I can be with Ryan is if I make peace with my own past and his.”

  Poppy closed her eyes and took a long drink. Of course Charla was right.

  “I know,” Charla continued, “that Trevor would do anything in his power to make you feel safe and loved.”

  “I’ve got to find a way to feel safe on the inside. To know that I can give him my heart and if it gets broken I’ll still survive.”

  “Oh, Poppy, you already learned how to survive with a broken heart.” Charla reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. “You did it when you were five.”

  Poppy froze. She rested the champagne glass on her thigh. “Oh my gosh, you’re right.”

  The car slowed and the driver got out.

  “Maybe that’s exactly why I’m afraid now?”

  “Don’t let what happened in your past dictate how you live your future. You can’t turn your back on true love just because you’re afraid.”

  “Good advice.” Even so, Poppy wasn’t certain she could take it.

  “It’s always easier to give advice, that’s for sure.”

  The driver opened the back door and Charla slid out. “Come on, doll, let’s get our spa on before the shindig tonight. I hear Trevor’s mom throws quite a birthday bash for her little boy, and aside from him, you’re going to be the star of the show tonight.”

  *

  There were too many people at his birthday party, but Trevor would roll with it. He’d been gone for six months and back for about five weeks, and it seemed Mom had invited every person they knew to celebrate his birthday.

  Why not? At least she was having it at the house, which kept it semi–low key, even with the extravagant caterer and “The Trevor,” a drink created just for tonight, inspired by his love of bourbon. He’d talked her out of renting klieg lights to line the long driveway up to the house. Nope. Just a band, three open bars, and five hundred of Mom’s closest friends. He pulled his p
hone from this pocket. No new text from Charla or Poppy. She hadn’t come back to the Malibu house, but instead stayed with Charla and gotten ready at Charla’s hotel.

  He took a long pull on his drink. He couldn’t rid himself of the fear that Poppy was going to run. This unnecessary anxiety irritated him. How the hell could he build a life with a woman if he never knew whether she would be there or not?

  “When do you think they’ll show up?” Ryan clapped Trevor on the shoulder.

  “They’re already fashionably late.” Trevor shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Who knows?” He took another long sip of his drink, scanning the crowd. “I see Poppy’s sister Mimi and her husband. I’m going to say hello.” Ryan nodded and turned to greet Tristan and Prim Rhoades. Tristan was the new owner of Ryan’s former company, Metro Media, and Prim, who’d been Ryan’s second-in-command, was now Tristan’s wife.

  Trevor wove his way through the crowd to where Robert and his mother stood speaking to Mimi and Daniel. Probably already planning Thanksgiving and a joint trip to the Tahoe house during December. Adele couldn’t wait to get her hands on Mimi’s kids. When Poppy had shown her pictures of Laura and Hazel, she had nearly fainted with the desire to spoil two little girls.

  “And here’s the one of when Hazel decided to paint the kitchen wall with fresh avocado,” Mimi said, turned her phone toward Adele.

  “Oh my gosh! How adorable.” Adele pressed her hand to her heart. She glanced up at Mimi. “So Monday works then? You’ll come over and swim? Here? I mean, look at the pool. And no one uses it.”

  “Monday?” Trevor lifted an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to work on Monday?”

  The corner of his mother’s mouth lifted. “No darling, you are going to work on Monday. I’m going to lounge by the pool with these two cherubs and their mother.” She glanced at Mimi. “Unless of course she’ll leave the little ladies with me and take some time for herself?”