by Devney Perry
“Poppy.”
She spun around at my voice. “Cole? What are you doing here?”
I crossed the landing, taking her elbow and pulling her toward the stairs and away from the door. “Let’s go.”
“But—”
“Hey, don’t you want to see the apartment?” the guy called from inside the unit.
“No,” I answered for her, still pulling her to the stairs. When we reached the top step, I let go of her elbow and slid my hand down her arm to take her hand.
“Cole,” she hissed, tugging her hand free. “What are you doing? I wanted to look at that place and tonight’s the only night I have off this week.”
I frowned and grabbed her hand again, this time with a firmer grip. “I’ll save you the time. You’re not looking at that apartment.”
She grumbled something but followed me down the stairs, stomping a bit until we were outside. Then she yanked her hand free again and fisted it on a hip. “What was that about? And what are you doing here?”
I pointed to the karate school across the street, where my truck was alone in the parking lot. “I was just leaving the dojo and saw you come in here. Since this building is definitely not safe, I came over to check on you.”
“Oh,” she muttered. “Why is this building not safe?” She looked around the three-building complex. “It looks nice.”
“Trust the cop on this one, okay? It might seem nice on the outside, but this is not a place you need to be hanging around.”
She stared at me for a long moment, debating whether or not to keep arguing, until she tossed her hands in the air. “Fine.”
“Why’re you looking for apartments?” I fell in step at her side as she started toward her car, parked a few paces down the street.
“I decided it’s time to move.”
“Oh-kay,” I drawled. I’d seen her twice for dinners this week and she hadn’t said a word about moving. “Why?”
She shrugged. “I just think it’s time.”
There was more behind her motives but I wasn’t going to push. Maybe it was too hard to live in that house, the one she’d shared with Jamie. Maybe all this work on his list really was helping her to let go. And if moving was what she needed to do, then I’d support her a hundred percent.
As long as it wasn’t into a criminal cesspool.
Or a shit hole.
Or something full of college students.
In fact, there weren’t many places I wanted her living. The only acceptable place that came to mind was my own house. There, she could use my kitchen to experiment with new recipes. She could stack her girly wheat beer next to my Bud Light in the fridge. She could share my bed.
But . . . slow. She needed slow.
So instead of moving her completely into my life like I wanted, I’d help her find a decent rental she could live in—for now.
“Is this the first place you’ve looked at?”
“You mean tried to look at?” She jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow.
I chuckled, fighting the urge to pull her in for a hug.
“No,” she sighed. “I’ve looked at two other places this week. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a decent rental in Bozeman? All of the good ones are already taken by college students and people moving to town. And since you just vetoed my best option, I’m back to square one.”
“Sorry.”
She smirked. “Liar.”
“You’re right. I’m not sorry. How about I make it up to you and help you scour the rental ads?”
“Riiight.” She narrowed her eyes as we stopped by her car. “You just want to go through my list and filter it down to those you deem acceptable.”
“Guilty,” I grinned, “but my offer still stands. How about I come hang at the restaurant tomorrow for dinner and help you make a list?”
She gave me her brightest smile, making all the nights alone worth it. “It’s a date.”
“Try this one next.” Poppy set a jar down in front of me. On the bottom was what looked like chili and, on the top, a layer of corn bread.
I picked up my spoon from the tiny jar of quinoa salad I’d just demolished and dove right in.
“Well?” she asked as I chewed. “Good enough for the fall menu?”
I swallowed my bite and nodded. “Good. Really good. Add it.”
She smiled and took my jar away before I could take another bite.
“Hey! I was going to eat that.”
“One sec.” She held up a finger and disappeared back into the kitchen.
“Damn it, woman,” I cursed as she giggled from behind the swinging door.
She’d been making me try new recipes since I’d gotten here thirty minutes ago. Now that it was September, she was on a mission to get her fall menu settled and I was her test subject. Except the only thing she’d actually let me eat was the fucking quinoa.
Not that it wasn’t good. Just like everything she made, it was tasty. But I was a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy. I wanted the fucking chili and corn bread. Or the beef stew she’d brought out. Or the homemade chicken noodle soup. Not quinoa with red peppers and zucchini.
When she came back out a few moments later, she had three new jars.
“If you take these away from me,” I gave her my best scowl, “I’m going to riot.”
She laughed, setting down a jar of what looked like baked ziti. The next one had my favorite chicken potpie and the last was filled with cheesecake and some type of caramel sauce.
“I didn’t want you to get too full during my tasting, but I’m all done. These you can just eat.”
“Finally.” I started with the cheesecake, polishing it off without delay before digging into the rest of my meal. When I was finished, she ran the dishes back to the kitchen and then came around to my side of the counter, bringing over a newspaper and her laptop.
“Okay.” She handed me the newspaper first. “Green stars are the rentals I like. Red are the maybes.”
It took me less than a minute to completely dismiss all of the red, since they were in mostly college-kid neighborhoods, and all but two of the green stars. “Don’t use that property management company,” I told her, pointing to one of the green stars that I’d crossed out. “I’ve heard they have a habit of keeping people’s deposits and are assholes when it comes to maintenance.”
She frowned. “Well, then we don’t need to look online. There wasn’t much else to see.”
“How desperate are you to move?”
“Not desperate.” Poppy studied my face, her eyes traveling from mine, down my nose and to my mouth. “Kind of desperate.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I wish I had thought of it sooner before everything was taken by the college kids.”
“Yeah. Your timing is off.”
It was the beginning of September and college was back in swing. Coffee shops around town were packed full of studying students. Traffic was a nightmare if you got within a mile of the university. And available rental space was nonexistent.
“Sorry.” I covered her hand resting on the counter.
She turned her palm up and threaded her fingers with mine. “It’s okay.”
“Cole?” a voice snapped behind us.
Oh, fuck. I knew that snap.
Aly.
Just as I’d expected, she was standing five feet away when Poppy and I turned. Her eyes were locked on our linked hands.
I smiled, hoping she’d be cool and not make this awkward. “Aly.”
But no.
She screwed up her mouth and gave Poppy the death glare—the same glare I used to get whenever I left my towel on the bathroom floor.
Aly marched the remaining distance and stood right by my side. “Who’s this?”
“Poppy, meet Aly. Aly, this is Poppy, and this is her restaurant.”
Poppy untwisted her fingers from mine and stood, extending her hand to Aly. “Hi. Nice to meet you. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”
Aly glared at Poppy’s hand, th
en crossed her arms over her chest as she turned that glare on me. “That didn’t take you long, did it?”
“Aly, don’t.”
“No, you don’t.” She uncrossed her arms and jabbed a finger into my shoulder. “You could have at least waited a little while. We were together for two years, Cole. Two years. How could you have moved on already? Did our relationship mean nothing to you?”
I looked over at Poppy, hoping she could read the I’m sorry in my eyes. The last thing I wanted was to bring drama into her life, but knowing Aly, she wasn’t going to make this easy on me.
“It’s okay.” Poppy’s gaze softened “I’ll let you guys talk.” Then she backed away, disappearing into the kitchen and sending Helen out to watch the counter.
When she was gone, I stood, gesturing to the door. “Let’s go talk outside.” By some miracle, Aly followed me without a word, though she huffed behind me as we walked. By the time we reached the sidewalk outside, her anger had morphed to hurt.
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded as the tears started to fall.
“Don’t cry.” My plea did nothing, but then again, Aly had always been a crier. Whenever Mom or my sister or Poppy cried, it damn near broke my heart. Aly’s tears, on the other hand, had stopped bothering me a year ago—partly because she used them for manipulation, partly because she never tried to fight them back.
One of the reasons I admired the hell out of Poppy was because she worked so hard not to cry. And when she did? Shit was bad.
But still, I didn’t want Aly to cry. I didn’t want to cause her pain.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
She nodded, reaching up to swipe a tear away. “Sure. Whatever you say.”
“We just—we wouldn’t have made it. I think deep down, you know that’s true.”
“Do I?” She looked into the restaurant and sniffled. “And what about her? Do you think you two will make it? Or are you going to do to her what you did to me? Make her fall in love with you and not even try to fall back.”
“Aly,” I whispered. “I did try.” I’d tried for two damn years to say I love you, but it just hadn’t been there.
Her chin quivered as she swiped at another tear. “Sorry. I just didn’t expect to see you tonight. And with her. It was a shock.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
She looked up to me with wet, pleading eyes as she leaned closer. “I really miss you.” Her hand lifted between us, but before she could touch my chest, I took a step back.
“I can’t touch you now?” Anger flashed in her teary eyes.
“No.” The only woman whose hand belonged over my heart was inside.
With a murderous scowl, Aly spun on her heel and rushed to her car, then raced out of the parking lot.
“Fuck,” I muttered, rubbing my jaw.
In time, I hoped Aly would find the guy for her. That she’d find the guy who’d give her his heart. It just wasn’t me.
Through the restaurant’s windows, I saw that Poppy had come back out to the counter. She was trying not to spy, but her eyes kept straying out front, searching for Aly. I hustled back inside and went right to the counter.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Ex-girlfriend, I’m guessing?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Aly and I dated for a couple of years but broke up earlier this summer.”
“Was it serious?”
“For her,” I admitted. “We lived together for a while, but . . . it wasn’t right. I finally ended it, but not before she got hurt.” Not before she’d told me she’d loved me countless times and I hadn’t said it back.
I tapped the newspaper we’d been looking at when Aly had come in. “Do you want to call either of these?”
“I’m not crazy about them. I think I’ll just sit tight for a while.”
“Okay. Let me know what I can do to help.”
“Actually, there is something.” She was unsuccessfully fighting a smile. “I went to three grocery stores earlier and bought each of them out of green Jell-O. Every single pan and pot and bowl I could find is currently in my walk-in filled with Jell-O.”
I wasn’t taking the bait. “Good for you.”
Poppy had been trying to talk me into doing the Jell-O pool thing with her for the last couple of weeks, but I fucking hated Jell-O. The texture made me gag. The taste was awful. The idea of rolling around in a pool full of it? Not a chance in hell unless she was drowning in it and I had to drag her out.
I’d promised to help her with Jamie’s list, but this was one of the two things where I’d drawn a line. I wasn’t going to let her pull a damn fire alarm, and I wasn’t getting in a pool of green Jell-O.
“Please?” Poppy gave me her best puppy-dog eyes.
Damn it. It was just Jell-O. I could probably make the sacrifice. If it made her happy, I could probably do it. If I kept my eyes closed and just got in real fast.
I was about to cave when she muttered, “Fine. I’ll do it myself. Tonight, I guess. The Jell-O is made and I might as well get it over with.”
“Did you get the pool?”
“No, not yet. I was going to duck out early and let Helen close so I could buy one.”
“I’ll get your pool.” I stood up and pulled my keys from my jeans pocket. “You finish up here and I’ll come back to collect you and your,” I grimaced, “Jell-O. Would you care if we did this at my place? It’s closer.”
“That would be great. Thank you.” Her face flooded with relief—a whole wave of it. Much more than saving ten minutes on a drive should warrant.
Was this why she wanted to move? Because she didn’t want me in her house?
I kept the questions to myself as I waved good-bye, left the restaurant and went to a place I hated nearly as much as I hated Jell-O.
Walmart.
A couple hours later, I’d bought her a kiddie pool and taken two trips from the restaurant to haul over a shitload of green Jell-O. Then—gagging the entire time—I’d filled her pool with that damn neon gelatin and used a shovel to break it into small chunks.
By the time she’d finished up at the restaurant and come over, the sun was starting to set. We skipped the house tour and I shuffled her straight to the backyard.
She’d changed at the restaurant. I was sure she was going for practical with her tight running shorts and plain white tank top over a strappy sports bra. But she’d sailed way past practical and landed on sexy as fuck.
“You set it all up, even though you hate Jell-O?” She smiled up at me and I fought with every cell in my body not to kiss her. “Thank you.”
I cleared the rasp from my throat and pointed to the pool. “You’d better get in there before it gets too dark.”
She took a deep breath, then put a foot in the Jell-O. “Oh my god, this is cold.”
“No turning back now.” I had my phone ready. “Smile for your picture.”
She scowled over her shoulder—a look I caught perfectly with the camera—then put her other foot in the pool. She hissed as she dropped to her knees, and then in one graceful twist, she sat down.
Her legs flattened just enough so the green could coat her thighs. “This feels weird.” She picked at the Jell-O with her fingers before planting her palms on the base of the pool and pushing herself up. Then she swiped the green bits off her legs.
“That’s it?”
She shrugged. “It’s freezing. I’m calling this one done, unless you’re going to get in here with me.”
I shook my head and took a step back. “Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”
“Are you sure?” A slow grin spread over Poppy’s face. She took one step, then another, moving to the edge of the pool closest to me.
“Poppy,” I warned.
She shot out a hand and made a grab for my wrist.
I jumped backward, barely dodging the green bits that flew off her hands. She’d used too much momentum trying to grab me though, because as her hand kept traveling, her feet began to slide. Like a
drunken man on ice, her torso twisted, her arms pinwheeled, and her legs wobbled as she tried to keep her balance.
I was sure she was going down, but then somehow, she managed to find a grip.
“Oh my god,” she panted, looking up to me as she steadied her legs. “That was close. I almost came out of here looking like Kermit the Frog.”
I laughed. “Or the Hulk. Can you imagine going into the restaurant tomorrow looking like a pissed-off Bruce Banner?” Randall would have a field day if Poppy came in with a green face.
I was still laughing as Poppy planted her hands on her hips. “The Hulk? I remind you of The Hulk?”
My laughter died. “What? No! Of course not.” Oh, shit. “You’d be like a small green person. Like, uh . . .” Think, Cole. What the fuck else is green? The Jolly Green Giant. Godzilla. The Grinch. “Yoda.” I snapped my fingers. “You’d be like Yoda. Except not old. Or bald. Or wrink—”
“Cole.” I stopped talking as Poppy grinned. “Mouth shut, you should keep.”
I nodded. “Good idea.”
“Okay. I’m getting out of here.”
I stepped forward and held out my free hand to help her out, but before she could get a grip on my palm, she shifted her weight. One second she was standing, the next she was flying through the air.
Splat.
Green Jell-O flew everywhere as Poppy screamed. She gargled as a chunk landed in her mouth—I gagged—then spit it out, struggling to sit up. Goo dripped from her fingertips and the knot of her hair. Her tank top would never be white again.
And I couldn’t resist. My phone was still in my hand and I lifted it up for a photo burst.
“Are you kidding me right now?”
I grinned. “Just in case you want proof.” I tossed my phone aside and bent down, helping her back up on her feet. “Here.”
This time when she stood, Jell-O covered her from head to toe.
Don’t laugh. Don’t be an asshole. It was no use. A snort escaped, followed by a fit of laughter as Poppy glared and gripped my hand with all her might.
“Sorry.” I stopped howling—though my chest was still heaving—as I helped her from the pool.
With a green finger shoved in my face, Poppy spoke through her clamped teeth. “Mention one thing about Yoda or Muppets or leprechauns and you’re dead.”
