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And even with my own emotions frantically seeking a place to land, I wasn’t sure I could handle the ramifications if he did. There would be a time for pushing. But it wasn’t here. Not yet.
“You don’t want to?”
The space we’d had from each other since my birthday had my filter dropping. “I think you’re right, and he wants more than a dinner meeting, that this is just an excuse. But I don’t know if that’s a reason to stay home, not if I know what I want.”
The words came out before I could really consider the weight of what I’d said. For a long, breathless moment, Ian did nothing but stare.
Say something, I begged in my head. Anything. Could this man really pretend there wasn’t anything between us? Over and over, I’d watched him compartmentalize so many different parts of his life, but this was the very first time he’d placed me in a box, behind barriers erected out of stubbornness and sheer force of will. I could’ve screamed all this at him, and I was quite sure he’d still find a reason to pretend he didn’t hear.
“Then I hope it’s a successful … meeting,” he said, voice brimming with all those things he couldn’t bring himself to say.
I tilted my head, studying his face. Letting him off the hook so quickly suddenly seemed unfair. Part of me wanted to call him a coward, grip his shirt and shake him until he lost the colossal grip he had on his self-control.
“And if he wants it to be more?” I asked lightly. It wasn’t a push, not really. It was a genuine question, that under any other circumstance in the world, I’d ask my best friend’s opinion.
When he answered, the words—rough and low and charged—lifted the hairs on the back of my neck. “Then he’s a smarter man than I gave him credit for.” His eyes never left mine, and the racing echo of my heart screamed in my ears. Then he swallowed, his brow flattening as he dragged his gaze away. “I’ll see you and Sage later at home, okay?”
I watched him say goodbye to Sheila and walk away from the field. Something about his answer tied my heart in knots.
Chapter 28
Ian
Even if I wanted to be home the whole day, pretending I wasn’t going out of my fucking skin before Harlow went out for dinner, I wouldn’t have been able to. Apparently, all my siblings within a two-hour radius chose that particular day to need something.
Cameron was with Ivy in Seattle for the week, visiting her dad and holding some meetings with potential suppliers, so I was now the brother who got the calls.
Poppy’s car wouldn’t start while she was at the gym in Redmond, so I drove out there to meet her. Some meathead was trying to give her a jump, but when I showed up, scowl on my face and a tire iron in my hand, he wisely beat it.
“Good Lord, Ian,” she mumbled. “He was trying to help.”
“Was he?” I mumbled. “He’s not your type anyway.”
Her hands flopped helplessly in the air. “Everyone in this family is so very sure about my lack of a love life, aren’t they?”
Through the windshield, I stared her down, turning the key to hear the sound the car was making. Just a click. Nothing.
“The fact that he’s not Jax is not what makes him not your type,” I said meaningfully. Poppy rolled her eyes.
“Jax can kiss my ass,” she said hotly. “I’ve gone on three first dates this month, and all of them can carry on an intelligent conversation. It’s great.”
“That guy wouldn’t have been able to.”
She arched an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?”
I slid out of the seat and joined her by the raised hood. “Any idiot with two brain cells to rub together would know it’s your starter, not your battery, and I know none of my sisters would go for someone stupid.”
“I did tell him that,” she pointed out. “But the tire iron was completely unnecessary.”
“Yeah, but it was fun to see his face do that weird splotchy thing, wasn’t it?”
She grinned. “Maybe a little.”
After a little finagling under the hood, we got her car started, and I followed her to the auto repair shop in Sisters, where we’d always taken our cars.
Poppy slid into the passenger seat, a thoughtful expression on her face when she caught me glancing at my watch.
I sighed. “What?”
