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He knew them, though only superficially. He’d made a point when he came in over the years to be in position to “run into” members of her family, say hello, and ask about Poppy. A part of him had known he’d return for her one day, and he’d wanted her family to at least be familiar with him. A man didn’t just form a relationship with his woman, but with her family as well. Her happiness was dependent on more than just his presence, and a smart man knew that.
A smart man also knew not to lie, even by omission, to that woman, he reminded himself. Something he was doing every day he was in her life. He was just praying that when the time came, she’d forgive him.
The backyard fight was filled with screams, tumbling bodies, and no small amount of childish giggles as four preteen boys wrestled with Jack, struggling to use their combined strength to take him down, as they’d informed him earlier that they were fully capable of doing.
Poppy stood in the kitchen window watching, aware of her sisters behind her, watching as well.
She paid attention to how Jack handled the boys, and had no doubt there wouldn’t be a single scratch or scrape when he finished with them. He let them use their boyish strength and gave them just enough of his strength to make it hard for them without risking hurting them.
Dinner had come and gone, the kitchen and dining room had been put back to rights, and the rest of her male family had gone to the family room to watch a baseball game on TV when the boys had challenged Jack to a “fair fight” as he’d followed behind the others.
She grinned at the memory of it. Jack had stared down at their confident little faces, tilted his head, and watched them for a moment before asking them if they understood that he was trained to face short combatants and asking if they had their parents’ permission to do battle.
“He’s grown up,” her mother said from behind her, her reflection joining Poppy’s in the window. “When I first saw him all those years ago, I doubted he’d live out the winter. Seeing the change in him over the years has been good.”
Poppy nodded at that. “He almost didn’t.”
To survive, he’d been forced to kill his father, then sent away to foster care. She wondered if anyone besides her had ever loved Jack.
“Do you know what you’re doing, Poppy?” her mother asked, her voice compassionate, and concerned.
“No, not really,” Poppy admitted with a small smile. “But I’ve decided I don’t want to keep wondering what could have been, either. I don’t want to keep waiting for him, watching for him. I’ve been doing that for too long.”
She watched as Jack finally let the boys pin him for the required three seconds. That hard, muscular body was laid out flat on the grass, a grimace of defeat on his face that was clearly feigned.
The boys jumped to their feet, whooping in triumph, then all four of them reached out a hand to help him up.
Not that he availed himself of their assistance. With a surge of power, he vaulted to his feet, causing wide eyes and pure admiration in her nephews. Not to mention in Poppy.
She couldn’t imagine the strength and training it must have taken to be able to move like that.
“I like him,” her mother decided. “It takes a good man to be that patient for that long with four energetic boys when he was clearly interested in watching the Sunday game with the other men.”
“He’s damaged,” her sister Alice murmured. “It won’t be easy loving him, Poppy.”
Poppy watched as he shook hands with the boys and congratulated them on a fair fight.
“Loving him is actually very easy,” she said. “That, or I’ve just loved him for so long that it seems effortless.”
Turning away from the window, she went back to stacking the bowls of leftovers she’d put aside in a box.
When her mother had learned Jack’s friends were waiting at his house, she’d insisted on making extra food to send back to them. Especially after Evan had laughingly mentioned the amount of pizzas being delivered to Jack’s front door.
Poppy’s mother hadn’t just prepared an extra skillet of the fried chicken for Jack’s friends, but she’d put aside half of a chocolate fudge cake and a whole apple pie as well.
When Jack stepped back into the house, he eyed the box of food Poppy was just finishing packing and looked at her.
Poppy just smiled, went to the family room, and told everyone goodbye. She kissed her parents and hugged them back, then turned to Jack.
“Ready? Or do you need another bout with the boys?” She grinned. “I think they’re pretty tired, though.”
He grunted at the question.
Moving for the door, she looked up at him in confusion when she saw his empty hands.
“That’s my box on the counter.” She pointed to the box topped with the sealed plastic bowls and foil-wrapped items. “Could you get it for me?”
Carrying the box, he led the way to the gate, letting her open it and step back into the yard while he went out first. He hit the electronic door lock, put the food in the back, then helped her into the truck.
