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She glanced over and saw me watching her. “What? Some girls can pull off a super messy bun. I’m not one of them. I look like I’m on the run from the police when I do it.”
“I think you look cute.”
“Now you’re just trying to placate me.”
“Is it working?”
“Are you a cup of coffee?”
“No. But I am capable of another kind of wake-up if you want to piss your mom off a little more.” I grinned.
She fought a smile. “Normally, I’d be all over that. Today, however, I’m going to try to keep the peace.”
“Right.” I ran a bit of wax through my damp hair. “Let me wash my hair and we’ll get coffee to attempt that peace-keeping thing.”
“You don’t think I can be nice for an entire day?”
“I know you can’t.” I dried my hands on a towel and grabbed my phone and the room key. “Come on, Red, let’s make you semi-human again.”
***
It was amazing, really.
Just twenty minutes ago she’d been rabid. Kill-you-with-my-eyes angry. Nobody-touch-me pissed off.
And now? Now, she was fucking smiling.
It was her second cup of coffee and she did have a mimosa—at my order—so maybe that was why.
“Stop looking at me like I’m a weirdo you can’t make sense of.” She grabbed a croissant and tore it in two.
“You are a weirdo I can’t make sense of,” I replied, hugging my cup of coffee with my hands. “It’s not my fault if you just went from one hundred to zero on the bad mood scale.”
“I was woken up when I was having a very nice dream, thank you very much. It’s not every day Chris Hemsworth comes into my dreams and wants to have sex with me.”
“Nice. So you were in bed with me having dirty dreams about Thor.”
She paused, cheeks turning pink. “Pretty much.”
“Now say it without blushing,” I smirked. “And I’ll believe it was about Thor.”
She opened her mouth, then clamped her jaw tight shut.
“I wasn’t asleep. You said my name.” I shrugged a shoulder.
Now, she blushed like hell.
I was lying through my teeth, but boy, this was fun.
“Just admit it, Red. You were dreaming about having sex with me. That’s okay. I don’t mind. I’m flattered, actually.”
“I have the right to remain silent.” She sipped her mimosa.
“You do. But your cheeks give you away.” I grinned.
“I hate you,” she muttered, going back to picking at her pastry.
I laughed. “Fine lines and all that. You’ll love me later when—”
“When what?” Her mom’s voice cut into what I was going to say.
Which would not be mom-approved.
“I’m there to help her practice her speech for the reception,” I said without missing a beat. I stood up and kissed her cheek. “Good morning, Miranda.”
Poppy rolled her eyes.
“It most certainly is not. Poppy,” she said, turning to her as she stuffed croissant into her mouth. “You were supposed to find me immediately.”
“Mom. You woke me up. I needed to eat something.” Poppy waved the croissant.
“You can eat later.”
“No, I can’t. You’ll be on at me all morning to do this and do that and do the hokey cokey for the guests,” she replied. “So I’m eating now. The napkins will still be there in half an hour.”
“Mmm.” Miranda’s calculating gaze swept the table. “Mimosa? Poppy.”
This time, she didn’t hide her irritation. “Mom, if you want me to be a nice person today, I’m having a mimosa.”
“You’re never a nice person.”
“All right, so if you want me to pretend to be a nice person today, I’m having a mimosa.” Poppy shrugged.
“Why isn’t Adam eating?”
“I can’t eat this early,” I interjected. Jesus, this was hard work. “I usually get up and work out before I eat. I’m just here to make sure the devil’s minion doesn’t murder anyone.”
Poppy glared at me, shaking her head.
I grinned.
Miranda looked between us and blinked. “I don’t understand you two.”
“Neither do I,” I replied.
Poppy kicked me under the table.
I jumped, and Miranda looked at me funny. “Cramp,” I said, pretending to be in pain and reaching down. “Stretched it wrong.”
Poppy grabbed another croissant and stuffed more in her mouth to hide her laugh.
“His pain is funny to you?” Miranda asked her.
“Yes,” she replied with a mouth full of food.
Another look between us and Miranda threw up her hands. “Poppy, find me when you’re ready to be reasonable and help.” And then she left.
“Well, that’ll be some time in the next century,” I grumbled, rubbing my shin.
Poppy pointed the croissant at me. “You’re pissing me off.”
“Surely not,” I drawled.
“You don’t want me to be angry. I’m not nice when I’m angry.”
“Are you telling me this morning was you being a delight?”
“I’m always a delight.”
“I’m gonna buy you a dictionary, Red.”
“Excellent. I can hit you with it when you piss me off.”
I don’t know why I laughed, but I did. It just escaped me, and I covered my eyes with my hand. I knew she’d be glaring at me, but I couldn’t help it. All I could fucking picture was this crazy, angry redhead chasing me with a dictionary, attempting to hurt me.
