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be on the same page when it comes to Rowdy. No more of...this. I don’t know what you’re going to say or do and it makes me...nervous.” She spun around, her brown eyes flashing when they met his. “I’m trying...but you keep...you keep making things hard.”
He frowned. He made her nervous? “I don’t mean to.”
“I know.” Her tone rose. “I know you don’t mean to. I know you want him to adore you. He does, believe me. You don’t have to promise him dogs and big families. He’d be happy with just you, you know?”
His frustration sparked. “No, I don’t know. I’ve never done this before. Ever. I’m learning as I go. All I know is I see him smile and I like it. I see him sad and it guts me.”
Poppy blew out a slow breath, shaking her head.
“No dog?” he asked.
She made a little sound of irritation. “I can’t tell him no now, can I? Then I’m the bad guy.” A crease formed between her brows, her mouth pressing flat.
“I’m sorry, Poppy.” He meant it. He ran a hand along the back of his neck. “Can’t seem to get this right.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, made that angry little sound and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why did you fix the wall and stall in the barn?”
He shrugged.
“I was going to get to it.” Her eyes flashed.
“I didn’t mind,” he said warily. Where was this going? Why the hell did a simple repair seem to be her tipping point?
“It’s not your place.” She shook her head. “You don’t need to do things for me, Toben. You don’t need to cook dinner for me or...bring me flowers. You being here has nothing to do with me.”
She didn’t know how wrong she was. He wanted to do those things. He wanted to be a part of her daily life, not just Rowdy’s. The more time he spent with her, the more he missed her when they were apart. But Ryder’s warning had struck a nerve with him—being cautious was the right thing to do. She still thought of him as he had been, hell-bent on adventure and taking stupid risks. Maybe it was time to tell her he wasn’t that man anymore and hope she’d give him a chance to prove it. “It bothers you?”
“Yes.” The word was unsteady.
“Because you don’t want my help? Or because I make you nervous?”
She stared at him, her cheeks flushing pink.
“Poppy?” He stepped forward, erasing the space between them. “I want to be a good man, too.” He slid his arm around her waist. “It is about you.” He pulled her against him. “It’s about us.” She felt so good, just being in his arms.
Her hands flexed against his chest, her voice wavering. “Don’t you do that, Toben Boone. Don’t you dare.”
He froze, watching the fury on her face.
“Don’t pretend you want me. That I’m special... Don’t do that. Not now. I believed that before... But not this time. I can’t be wild and crazy, Toben. I can’t...give in to this and wake up to an empty bed.” She stared at his chest, her hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt. “Don’t make me want something that can’t exist.”
Her words sliced through his heart. She was special. Special wasn’t enough. No, Poppy was the only woman who made him hope. Yes, he’d left her, acted like an ass and lost her. Until drinking had almost killed him. Even then, he’d look for her—hoping their paths would cross and he’d have another chance. This might not be how he’d envisioned it but he wasn’t sorry. She was here, in his arms, resisting what they both wanted. Telling him she wanted him. Hell, not just wanted him, but wanted to be wild and crazy with him. His body was more than willing, but he didn’t want to complicate things—not yet.
“Who said it can’t exist? Dammit, Poppy, I want you,” he ground out the words, unable to let her go. “So bad it hurts. But I—”
She kissed him then, her hands tangled in his hair and holding him tight. She was on tiptoe, swaying forward to melt against him. He groaned, his hold tightening on her, all but crushing her. Her scent wrapped around him as her lips moved against his, so soft.
She held on to him, hungry and desperate, the throb of her heart matching his own rapid beat. He should stop this before he was lost. As much as he ached for her, she didn’t know how he felt. And loving her was more important than being in her bed.
But he’d forgotten how it was with her. How out of control they were together.
Her lips parted, the tip of her tongue teasing him. He groaned again, opening his mouth and welcoming the stroke of her tongue. His control crumpled then. Everything he needed was right here. No way he was letting her go. A shudder shook her as he deepened the kiss. His hand slid through her long curls and he cupped the back of her head to drink her in.
Her hands slid down, stroking the back of his neck before gripping his shoulders and pressing against him. Her touch rocked him to his core, kicking up both warning and an undeniable yearning. He paused, sucking in lungfuls of air, and stared at her. Her face was flushed, raw hunger in her dark eyes. His fingers traced along the curve of her cheek and jaw. She closed her eyes, turning into his touch—shivering as his thumb traced the edge of her full lips. She was beautiful, so damn beautiful. He couldn’t resist.
A soft moan caught in the back of her throat as his lips traveled up the side of her neck to latch on to her earlobe. His teeth grazed the soft skin, the hitch in her breath stamping out any lingering restraint.
Her hands fell to his waist, tugging his shirt free. Her hands slid beneath the fabric, her fingers flexed against his spine, her nails lightly scoring up his back—covering his skin in goose bumps. When she tugged his T-shirt up and over his head, he ducked, eager to be rid of it. Anything that got him closer to her...
