That was when Poppy should have thanked him for the wonderful evening. She should have told him she was going home alone. That she would brush her teeth, maybe have a cup of cocoa on the porch, and fall into bed with Mabel across her feet, like most nights.
But Boone’s smile was like finding treasure, and the feeling that bloomed in her chest was big and strong and didn’t care about the other stuff. The unresolved stuff. The stuff that littered their past like pieces of paper blowing in the wind.
She didn’t want the night to end. She didn’t want to give him up yet. And if that meant he found his way into her bed, into her body, then so be it. She reached for him.
“I hope our ETA isn’t too much longer, because I need a ride.” She palmed him until he swore and pulled her hand away. “And I don’t mean in your car.”
Chapter Seventeen
Boone cracked open an eye and slowly woke up to find a dog staring at him. Tongue lolling to the side, big shiny eyes, and an expression that was hilarious, the dog gave a soft bark, as if to say you’re in my spot.
Sprawled facedown in bed, it took a few moments for him to clear the cobwebs and figure out where the hell he was. And when he did, he turned to the side and settled his gaze on a woman who had given him what had to be, hands down, the most erotic night of his life. God damn, but the sex was good.
He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow so he could watch her.
This connection he felt with Poppy was more than sex, and that gave him pause. He wasn’t used to feeling like this. He wasn’t used to giving up control. In his entire time on this planet, it had been the one thing he clung to with tenacity, because it was the one thing that got him through a life more complicated than most people realized.
But the complication that Poppy represented was a complication he could live with. She sighed in her sleep, a soft smile drifting across her face, and he couldn’t help himself. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then nibbled at the scar he’d meant to ask about but always seemed to get distracted and forgot to, then nuzzled her neck. Reluctantly, Boone pulled away before he woke her. It was early, barely seven on a Sunday morning, and he was hungry as hell.
He slid from bed and pulled on his boxers, then tossed his clothes and her dress onto the chair by the window. They’d been scattered everywhere, a testament to the ferocity of their desire. He gave Mabel a scratch so that she’d follow him from Poppy’s room, then closed the door so she could sleep. He let Mabel out and in again, and, after feeding the dog and topping up her water dish, made a pot of coffee before snooping through the fridge.
“Damn, woman, don’t you eat?”
There wasn’t much to choose from, but at least there were eggs and cheese, as well as one lone green pepper on the shriveled side, but it would have to do. Boone chopped the pepper, added the eggs and cheese, and found a jar of salsa in the cupboard. He tossed some of that in as well.
He was on his second cup of coffee and peering at his creation on the stove when two hands slid around his midsection and a soft, warm body pressed up against him.
“Good morning,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. Poppy’s hair was a mess of tangles, and he spied love marks on her collarbone. Like a damn Neanderthal, his chest swelled a bit because they were marks he’d put there. Her eyes were luminous, and her mouth was swollen from all that kissing they’d done.
“I thought for sure I’d wake up and you’d be gone.”
In the past, leaving before dawn would have been an automatic move, but this was different, and he wanted her to know it. “I’m not ready to give you up yet,” he said slowly, eyes traveling her entire body. “You look good enough to eat.”
She blushed and, with a giggle, slapped his butt before grabbing a mug and filling it to the top.
“I guess cooking is another thing you’re good at. That smells delicious.” Poppy hopped onto the counter, and they made small talk while he finished making their breakfast. He handed her a plate, and the two of them went out back to her deck to eat.
Her place wasn’t big, a modest bungalow not unlike the one he’d grown up in, but she’d done a lot of updates, and the kitchen gleamed with new appliances and granite countertops. The décor was bohemian chic, and there was a lot of white with hints of beige and yellow and a lot of greenery—ferns and potted plants. The backyard needed some landscaping, but was tidy and functional.
Boone stretched and rolled his shoulders and neck. He found her gaze on him, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“What?” he asked lightly.
She shrugged. “I was just thinking about something.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded and sat back, her breasts nearly spilling from the short pink robe she’d pulled on. He sat a little straighter. Was she completely naked under there? How hadn’t he noticed that?
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, dragging his eyes from all that creamy skin.
“I was thinking of that thing you did with your tongue.”
Okay. He liked this game. “I did a lot of things with my tongue, darlin’. You’re going to have to be more specific.”
She moved slightly, a shift of her thighs and butt, and damned if a dusky pink nipple didn’t make an appearance. “Oh, you know, the one where you—”
“There you are, luv. Now I know why you’re not answering your phone.” Link strode onto the deck, a cup of steaming coffee in hand, a wicked grin on his face.
Great. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Boone glared at the man, and if looks could kill, the Brit would be dead on the ground. Unfortunately, Boone didn’t possess those kinds of powers, so Link dropped a kiss on Poppy’s cheek and then sat down between them. He sipped his coffee, placed his mug on the table, and winked.
“You might want to cover up, Pops. Your bits are showing.”
“Jesus, Link.” Cheeks a deep red, Poppy yanked on her robe until that delectable nipple disappeared. “What are you doing here? It’s barely eight on a Sunday morning.”
“Interrupting the two of you, it seems.”
“Besides that,” she replied.
He held up his mug. “I’m out of coffee.”
“It’s a long drive for a coffee.”
“Actually, didn’t drive that far, if I’m being honest.”
Poppy looked surprised at that. Boone settled back to watch the two of them. Their banter spoke of an easy friendship, but something was going on, and he wasn’t exactly sure what it was.
“How far are we talking?” Poppy asked after a few moments.
Link grinned at her and shrugged. “Pops, you know I’m not the type to kiss and tell.” He looked at Boone. “And sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to push in on your morning.”
Boone somehow doubted that.
“Guess you missed my car in the driveway.” His tone was light, but there was a warning there, and Link got it. The man sat a little straighter and slowly nodded.
“Now that you mention it, I was wondering about that. But then…” He held up his mug. “Coffee was calling, and I wanted to remind our girl here about the art show downtown.”
“Shit,” Poppy muttered, glancing up at Boone.