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I try not to think too far into that and fail miserably. I’ve never had someone claim me like this. My mind wants to make excuses, like he only does it when we’re in bed together. But that’s not true. He openly staked his claim in the bar, and he hasn’t been shy about touching me in front of his family.
But westillhaven’t talked. And I know that’s partially my fault. I need to push the issue, make him talk to me so we can sort this out. I’m just afraid of what the answer’s going to be. Partly because I don’t want to be embarrassed…I don’t want to be the young girl chasing after the older guy. But mainly I’m scared that I will feel more than him, and that’ll break a little piece of my heart.
“Shower?” he asks, looking up from between my legs.
I smile and sigh. “Yeah. Shower.”
* * *
We’re lying in bed, our arms and legs tangled together, and my thoughts running wild. My heart beats a mile a minute, and my hands are clammy. I know I just need to ask. We just need to rip off the Band-Aid. I take a deep breath.
“So, we need to talk.”
He sighs. “I guess we do.”
Seriously. Is that all he’s going to give me here?
“I just want to know what it is we’re doing,” I say, sounding far more confident than I actually am. “I can handle whatever, but I just need to know. I’m thinking about it far too much.”
I try a weak attempt at laughter.
“All I know is that I like you, Poppy. And my kids like you.”
“I like you, too,” I whisper. “And them.”
“I have to tread carefully with stuff like this…because of them. I haven’t dated anyone since my ex-wife. This is uncharted territory, and I can’t pretend like I have it all figured out.” He pushes his hand through my hair. “But I hate when you’re not around. I think about you all the damn time.”
“Yeah?” I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. I try to bite it back, I really do. The last thing I want to do is seem overly eager.
“Yeah.” He laughs at my expression. “But I don’t know what to tell the kids. Or, I guess, how to tell them. Or when? When do we decide that it’s big enough to bring you into their life like that?”
I know he has a point, and I’m trying not to let it get to me thatthat’swhat he’s hung up on after all the time I’ve spent with them over the last few weeks. They come see me at work every day and bring me breakfast. I’ve dyed their hair and picked flowers for Jolene. I’ve played video games with Wade and helped him with his reading. I’ve helped Rhett in the kitchen when he’ll let me, and I’ve kind of melted into the rest of his family with weekend dinners and early morning cups of coffee.
It feels like I just…fit. So to hear that he’s worried about whether or not we are serious enough to tell the kids hurts a little. But I have to remember they’re not my kids, and I don’t have any of my own. So I don’t know what it’s like to worry about bringing someone new into their lives. I haven’t had the mother of my children up and leave one day just because she decided she didn’t want this life anymore.
A sour feeling sits in my stomach at the thought. I don’t understand parents who can leave their children like that.
“Poppy?” he asks, trying to get me to look at him. “Are you angry with me?”
“No,” I assure him. “I will never be angry with you for taking care of your kids. I agree. We need to flesh this out a bit before we go involving them like that. But please know that I love them, and I would do anything for them.”
“I know you do. I can see it in the way you are with them.” He kisses me softly. “I love how much care and patience you have for them. Seeing them happy with you makes my chest ache. They deserve a woman like you in their life.”
Now my chest aches, because that is the nicest damn thing Rhett Black has ever said to me. Scratch that. That is the nicest thinganyonehas ever said to me.
“We’ll take it as it goes. And maybe we’ll just know when the time is right.” I smile at him. “But you know what I think would be a really good start?”
He raises an eyebrow.
“You not being such a grumpy asshole all the time. Maybe start by cutting back on the grunting, and use your big-boy words instead.”
He barks out a laugh and tucks me into his chest. I breathe him in and listen to the deep rumble of his laughter through his rib cage.
“I can’t make any promises there, poppyseed.”
I just roll my eyes. Of course he can’t. It’s part of his damn DNA to grunt.
“You’ve been lessgrumpy these past few weeks,” Hayes says as we watch the cattle mosey across the field to their new home.
