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“But when you did… I could tell.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to massage some of his frustration. “Don’t get soft on me, Mom.”
“I am not the one getting soft. Trust me… you have to be careful. She seems like a good woman, but you can’t just insert random girls into the kids life. You have responsibilities.”
“I’ve been taking care of my responsibilities,” he said. Sometimes, it felt like that was all he did. Until Poppy came along, anyway.
“Aha. So you two have been carrying an affair.”
He put his glass on the coffee table, and sighed. She would not let this go until he acknowledged she was right. “We’ve connected, yes, but the kids know nothing about it.”
His mother touched her heart, whispering dramatically, “Thank god.”
“This isn’t serious, Mom.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Like Darcy wasn’t at first?”
“She’s nothing like Darcy.”
“Darcy wasn’t like nothing like Darcy in the beginning,” his mother said, and she didn’t need to elaborate. He knew she meant until the disease took over. But could he really blame the addiction for all of Darcy’s mistakes? It had been easy thing to do.
“She was always selfish, but I was too blind to see it,” he said.
His mother tilted her head, watching him closely. “See what I mean? What if being blindsided is a pattern for you?”
A pattern? He hadn’t dated in forever. His mother acted like every other month he brought a random woman home. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Sure, Poppy was a fun, sometimes impulsive individual. But she cared for those around her. She wouldn’t drop her kids like flies, or bring unsavory types around them for her own benefit. “Do you really think I can’t make better decisions? That I repeat the same mistake over and over again?”
“No. I just wanted you to hear yourself out loud.”
He reached for the bottle of wine and poured himself some more, wishing for a stronger drink. Hearing himself out loud would bring more problems than solutions. Hell, he had a hard time dampening his inside voice and the wild thoughts all running in the same direction. That he was falling in love, helplessly, with the woman who had said she didn’t want a commitment or an instant family.
“How’s life?” Kira asked. “You’re always busy lately.”
They hung out in the apartment, the three of them, like old times.
“Excuse me, Ms. Happily Married,” Poppy said, poking her cousin for having fallen in love with the husband that was supposed to be a fake husband only. But that was a story for another time…
Today Ethan’s mom had decided to take the kids out by herself, bless her, and Ethan was stuck at work—now with the nearing of the opening of the entertainment complex. So she had given herself a break and messaged her cousins.
A box of pepperoni pizza and a few cans of beer littered the coffee table. Billie sat on the floor, legs crossed, and Kira occupied the chair. Poppy lounged on the sofa, sprawling her body, feeling a bit too light after a couple of beers. Or maybe it had been the joy she experienced when Willow texted her saying good things about the Mother’s Day brunch at school.
“Why are you smiling?” Kira asked.
Poppy shifted in the sofa, stretching her legs. “Oh, just reminding myself to send some flowers to my mom on Sunday,” she said.
Billie exchanged a skeptical glance with Kira, who frowned.
“What?” Poppy asked.
“You’re sleeping with your boss, aren’t you?” Billie said.
A hot wave spread through Poppy’s cheeks. She opened her lips to protest, but stopped short. How much longer would she be able to hide it? By the looks her cousins shot at her, not long. She cleared her throat. “Hm, well—”
“I knew it,” Billie said, a glint of triumph in her eyes. “What did I tell ya?” She winked at Kira. Of course she shared her suspicions with Kira. Though now it no longer mattered.
Kira clapped her hands together, squealing. “Damn. Tell us everything, Poppy. Leave nothing out.”
Oh, I’ll leave things out all right. Poppy came to a sitting position, sucking in a breath. “It’s nothing serious. He’s a cool guy.”
