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She barely controlled her flinch at the unintentional cruelty she felt at his words.
“How silly,” she snorted, flashing him a derisive look.
John David shook his head as he stared at her almost pityingly.
He didn’t mean to be so damned arrogant and judgmental, she knew. He only became like this when he tried to protect her or convince her to use more caution. She could be impulsive, he often reminded her. And too trusting.
“You rarely date, and when you have, every man you’ve dated has stated that the relationship didn’t work because of your lack of sexual interest,” he pointed out.
She clenched her teeth, then breathed in deeply to contain the anger she could feel brewing inside her.
“So, since I don’t sleep around, because I want to wait until it feels right, I’m somehow in the wrong?” she questioned him, only barely managing to hold on to her temper. “Maybe out of that group of would-be lovers, someone should inform one to brush his teeth, and another to wear deodorant. And then there was the one that wanted to shove his tongue down my ear canal, and another that informed me in no uncertain terms that any wife of his wouldn’t work, but would stay home and breed for him while taking care of the house and making his life comfortable.” She gave a roll of her eyes as she spread her arms out before dropping them to her side. “Yeah, those were some wonderful candidates as lovers, I’ll agree with you.”
His lips twitched. “God, Poppy, I swear I know who you’re talking about, and I can’t believe you went out with him.”
She sniffed, not at all happy with his sudden amusement, mostly because he was actually right. Until the past year, she’d been waiting on Jack.
“If I decided to sleep with anyone, then my three brothers”—she held up three fingers—“older brothers, mind you, will know about it before whoever it is leaves my house the next morning. You would have something bad or insulting to say about him, and Daddy will be uncomfortable if I bring him to dinner, because you know how old-fashioned he turned out after his and Momma’s wild hippie-wannabe days. And every one of you would start pressuring me to get married and have babies.” She all but sneered when in fact she wanted to cry, because there was a time she’d dreamed of doing just that.
He glanced away, regret crossing his face, but she knew that his attitude wasn’t going to change.
“You’re probably right,” he finally admitted on a sigh. “Just promise me you’ll give me a chance to find out what Bridger’s into before you—”
“He ignores me and avoids me,” she reminded him, her voice tight as she forced herself not to curl her fingers into fists. “Doesn’t matter if I felt something for him, John David. He doesn’t want me, so that pretty much makes this conversation the height of idiocy. Now will you please leave me just an ounce of pride here and drop the damned subject? Or I can go home and tell Momma and Daddy why I won’t be here for dinner.”
And she would do it. It wouldn’t be the first time she and John David had butted heads and she’d left the house. Usually because he had some dumbass opinion on a decision she had made.
His eyes narrowed at the threat.
“And don’t give me that look,” she snapped irritably. “It’s never bothered me in the past, and it won’t now.”
She didn’t give him a chance to reply or argue, but pushed past him and left the bedroom as she fought to hold her hurt inside.
She simply couldn’t believe what he’d told her about Jack. Drugs were Jack’s sore point. He hated them, and she’d seen his anger when he learned someone around him was using. He hated it. He would refuse to associate with those who did drugs.
At least, he had in the past.
She couldn’t even say for sure what he would do now, but she knew if that had changed, Mac-Cole would know it, and her brother had never mentioned it to her.
Of all her siblings, only Mac knew how she felt about Jack for sure. It was Mac she’d question after Jack left town each year, Mac who’d listened quietly the few times she’d given words to her regret that what she’d done that summer seemed to have destroyed her friendship with Jack. And it was Mac who had assured her that she was wrong.
He wouldn’t lie to her, but if he’d felt Jack was a sociopath, or somehow dangerous to her, he would have surely told her.
Unless he was certain Jack wasn’t interested in her anyway and he had nothing to worry about. Unlike John David, Mac didn’t like hurting her, and if he thought there was no chance of Jack showing interest, then he might not warn her against him.
Stepping back into the kitchen with the rest of the family, she moved to her parents for their customary hugs, kissed them on their cheeks, and sat at the table before the rush to fix dinner began.
One of the twins brought her coffee when she returned to the table with her own. Her brothers-in-law teased her because she still wasn’t bringing home a man to meet her parents and crazy family. Her nephews rushed in for hugs and a willing ear to hear about their boyish adventures.
She listened, laughed, related a few amusing stories from her job, and let herself fall into the routine. All the while, she was aware of her brother’s often probing looks and the suspicion in his eyes. She was confident there was nothing for him to see, though. She’d learned how to bury fear, nightmares, and pain. A single summer night when she’d forced a friend and her brother to cover up her crime had made her learn how to hide parts of herself.
Parts of herself she knew only one man could heal. A man who had no intention of trying, and no desire to.
Someone in Ian’s group had been watching Poppy for a while, Jack knew. The file they had on her was extensive, right down to her habits, favorite foods, where she liked to shop, and the fact that she normally stayed the night with her parents every third Sunday of the month.
She’d left with a leather overnight bag and garment bag just before ten that morning—because she had meetings scheduled Monday morning—and she’d kept her eyes on his house until she pulled from the parking lot in the three-year-old SUV she’d just bought that spring.
She’d pinned the front of her hair back, likely to keep that unruly curl in place, he thought. He had a fondness for that curl, because it seemed that no matter how long or how short her hair was, she’d had trouble with it staying in place.
