Thunder booms above us. I raise my eyebrows.
He scowls. “The storm could be miles away.”
As if offended by his words, rain starts pelting the boat. One minute, nothing, and then it’s coming down so thick and fast, it sounds like coins falling out of a slot machine. The rain here isn’t at all like the rain in the Northeast. This is tropical rain, which apparently likes to roll in with a vengeance. Even if it stops in five minutes, there’s no way Jack can sleep on the deck tonight.
I smirk at him. “The universe has spoken.”
He slides in beside me. “Don’t hog the blankets.”
Chapter 28
Squid Ink
Jack
I wake with Poppy in my arms and Gator sitting by my head.
Living with Poppy has done him good. His fur is thick and shiny, and he’s gained weight. Frankly, he looks a little judgmental right now, his jasmine eyes blinking slowly, head tilted to the side as if to say,What’s up with you and her?
“Good question, buddy,” I whisper.
I carefully free a hand from the tangle of limbs keeping Poppy and I together, extending it in his direction. He sniffs it, then jumps off the bed, sauntering with his tail held high into the other room.
I squint against the sunlight seeping through the window opposite the bed. My phone informs me it’s eight in the morning. I can’t remember the last time I slept in past four. Five if I’m lucky.
I also can’t remember the last time I woke up in bed with someone else.
Poppy’s still asleep, breathing softly against my bare chest. I curl some of her hair around my fingers, watching how it catches the light.
Last night was unexpected. Nearly disastrous. Figures I’d finally kiss her, only to give in to that urge to run that always surfaces at the worst moments. And when I came back to the sight of her in a fuck-me outfit, prepared to finish what I started with someone else... well, I’d have deserved that.
But she’s in my bed, limbs splayed, nose twitching cutely whenever she exhales. There’s a lump in my throat the size of the sun. I don’t want to name the feeling I’m experiencing. Don’t even want to think about it. It feels immovable, undeniable, and yet fragile enough to melt like sugar in rain.
Besides, we agreed it’s just sex. No strings. No kissing.
It’s smart. Sensible.
I brush a kiss against the top of her head—gentle, so she doesn’t wake—before rolling out of bed. Can’t help it.
An hour later, I walk out of the bagel shop downtown that, fortunately, looks the same as it did when I was a teenager. The owner is a Brooklyn transplant, and I trust he still knows how to make a good bagel. We’re already starting the day late; I figure a taste of New York will help Poppy and I get in the groove as we do more work on the menu. I got some smoked salmon, too. We can share a piece with Gator.
Hopefully she reads my note and takes ashortshower. The houseboat wasn’t made for someone with a multistep beauty routine.
I readjust the paper bag under my arm, pulling my phone out of my pocket. I haven’t spoken to Douglas since before Poppy and I went to Horseshoe Island. The weight of our deal has been lingering. If I go too long, he’ll call first.
So much has changed since that argument in the alleyway. Poppy’s putting her own mark on Fable’s menu. She’s living on the houseboat with me.
She’s in my bed.
But she made it clear last night that this is just sex. Mutual attraction, a candle burning at both ends. It changes nothing about the future. Green Street is still where I want to be.Needto be. I steel myself, clicking on Douglas’s contact.
He answers on the first ring. “Son?”
He knows right where to target, and I’m aware of it. Doesn’t make me any less vulnerable to it. I clear my throat, ignoring the stinging warmth that small word elicits. “Did you see the announcement about the pop-up?”
“I did. Smart idea.”
“That was all her. She’s working on the guest list now.”
