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Willow shrugged. “Okay. Are any of them glazed?”
“I brought a few of each,” Poppy said, following the girl into the imposing living room. A mix of textured walls, warm colored furniture and intricate rugs blended together, giving the place a much cozier vibe than she would have expected. It was all gorgeous and spoke of money, yes, but there was also the atmosphere of a loving home. Not the kind of residence she’d pictured for Ethan.
Several frames hanged on the mustard colored accent wall, and she made herself a mental note to snoop later.
“Well, I hate glazed,” Willow said, bringing her attention back to her.
“No problem. I’ll eat those,” Poppy said. She should have expected some push back from the girl. A part of her even welcomed it—she didn’t know Willow, but imagined she had reasons to act this way. And she’d have to learn to find a way to slip past her walls, at least for the time of her working there, to have a good relationship. “Your place is lovely. Rooms are upstairs?” She noticed the curvy stairwell.
“Your room is downstairs, it’s one of the guest rooms. The first one to the left. But mine, Dad’s and Archie’s are all upstairs.”
“Great.”
“Are these donuts?” Archie squealed, flying down the stairs.
“Yes.”
“Dad prefers we eat in the kitchen,” Willow said, leading the way to a beautiful kitchen. “No eating in the living room, ever.” Willow said, and for a moment, she sounded like she was the rule abiding adult and Poppy the messy child.
Poppy placed the box on the large island, looking around the immense marbled area, pretty sure this kitchen was twice the size of the apartment she shared with Billie. “Damn. That’s big.”
“Dad doesn’t want us to swear,” Willow said.
“Of course,” Poppy said, embarrassment flushed through her. “Sorry. It slipped out,” she tapped her mouth to lighten the mood. God, maybe this had been a mistake. Willow hated her, and what if she wasn’t fit to watch two kids, even for a short period of time?
Billie had a point.
Those two kids weren’t her brothers when they were younger. She had to behave in a much more proper manner, and be on the top of her game. If kids could smell fear, Poppy bet Willow would bottle hers, create a fragrance and douse herself in it.
Archie joined them in the kitchen, and gave her a hug so tight that almost knocked her backward. Her heart squeezed for a moment. This wouldn’t be so bad, right? At least one of them was in her corner. The donuts had done their job.
She opened the box, and he grabbed one, and happily bit into it.
“Where’s your dad?” Poppy asked. After all, he should have been the one to show her around, and not a 10-year-old.
“He’s here,” said a deep male voice behind her.
Goose bumps raised on her arms, as she circled to face her new boss.
He wore dark grey pants and a long sleeved crisp white shirt, that clung to his body like the Spanx she was wearing clung to hers. Moisture evaporated from her throat, and her tongue got stuck to the roof of her mouth when she tried to speak. She swallowed the lump, making a quick study of his broad shoulders hard under his shirt, the wide chest, and she wondered if he was one of those men who had a distinct V shape in the ridges of the muscles as her gaze wandered lower. God, she’d never dated a man with a V. Never ran her fingers lazily along—
“Miss Poppy,” he called her, impatience lacing her voice. “You’re thirty minutes late.”
“Sorry. It took me longer to get here,” she said, hoping a smile would help her cause. Nope. “I brought donuts.”
“We try to stay away from sugary foods for breakfast, especially where Archie is concerned.”
Fuck.Another mistake. She nodded. “Of course. Sorry. Won’t happen again.”
“Good. Now, they’ll be bringing your suitcase soon. I’ll show you to your room, then I’ll go over some house rules with you. Hope you’re ready.”
So do I.
