by Cindy Kirk
His implacable expression didn’t waver.
“I bet you never had to share a bathroom with anyone.” A nervous laugh escaped her lips as Poppy opened the bedroom door. “Or slept in a space this small.”
The room was indeed small, Ben realized. Not even as big as his walk-in closet. But it was neat and clean with darkening shades on the window and a comforter devoid of lace or frills.
Ben expelled the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He shifted his gaze to Poppy and realized she was waiting for a reply.
“I was sent to a boarding school back East when I was twelve,” he told her. “The room wasn’t much bigger than this and there were two of us.”
Ben had never understood why his parents would pay all that money to send him to a place where he had to share a room and use a shower down the hall.
Poppy stepped into the room and opened a door next to the desk. “For a man with your extensive wardrobe, this may present a problem.”
The closet was a door width wide and about three feet deep. Ben decided he was going to have to rethink the extra suitcases in his trunk. It appeared for this situation, less was definitely better.
He sensed her gaze on his face, caught a glimpse of the worry beneath the smooth mask. It was almost as if she feared he wouldn’t like the place. But as much as Ben wasn’t looking forward to living under these conditions, he’d been honest when he told Poppy they needed to get to know each other. Not just for themselves but for the sake of the child she carried.
His child.
“It’s more than adequate. And the room is—” he started to say nice but changed it at the last second to “—sunny and warm.” Ben flipped open the latch on his piece of luggage. “I appreciate you making room for me.”
“I have a few things to do in the kitchen,” she said. “Give me a shout if you have questions.”
Without waiting for his reply, she slipped from the room and left Ben staring down at his open suitcase. He thought he’d only packed essentials, but by the time he’d finished taking everything out, the drawers and closets were full.
Think of it as camping, he told himself. He’d loved going out with his dad and brothers when he’d been a boy. In a tent, there was only so much room. He’d never missed all the other stuff while out in the woods.
Besides, he could always keep extra clothes at the office.
After slipping the now empty bag under the bed, Ben went in search of Poppy. It didn’t take long to find her. She sat on the sofa with her feet propped up, her laptop humming as data flashed on the screen.
“What are you doing?” he asked, dropping into the adjacent chair.
“Reviewing case notes on a mom and her two kids. I’m trying to secure housing for them.”
“Where are they now?”
“In a shelter.” She sighed then leaned back and closed her eyes for a second.
There were shadows beneath the long silky lashes. She should be resting today, recharging for the week ahead.
“They make you work on Sundays?” He tried to keep the anger out of his voice. She was pregnant. Wasn’t forty hours a week enough for Teton County?
The irritation on his face must have showed because Poppy chuckled. Despite the shadows, she looked incredibly beautiful in black pants and a bold geometric black-and-white top.
“I choose to work. So many cases, too little time,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Plus I’m new so everything takes me more time, including the paperwork.”
Ben had envisioned them sitting on a sofa, getting to know each other better over a glass of wine. Of course, Poppy couldn’t have wine, so the imaginary scene already had a fatal flaw.
“If you want to watch television, I can go into my room,” she offered. “The noise makes it difficult for me to concentrate.”
Ben certainly didn’t want to make her run off to her bedroom. She had work that demanded her attention. He glanced at the Patek Philippe watch on his wrist, grimaced and rose to his feet. “I have a few errands to run. Do you have a key?”
She reached into the bag that sat on the coffee table and held out her hand. “I had this made for you yesterday.”
Her fingers brushed against his as he took it from her. Just a simple metal object, he thought, odd that receiving a key could feel so intimate.
“I have to pick up Groucho and drop him off at my parents’ house.” He kept his tone casual, offhand, not wanting to pressure her to come when she was busy. “You could come with me. Meet them.”
She shook her head and glanced pointedly at the computer screen. “Work to do.”
“I understand.” He hid his disappointment with a shrug. “I won’t be long.”
The door closed firmly behind him.
Coward, she chided herself. Still, how could she face his parents? She suspected he’d told them about the baby. There were bound to be lots of questions.
Unsettled, Poppy rose and began to pace. She’d already made such a mess of things.
Ben had specifically moved in so that they could get better acquainted. Yet, she’d pretended she needed to work. Coward, she told herself again. This was their opportunity to talk, learn each other’s likes and dislikes and ultimately see how they’d work together as parents of this little life they’d created.
After all, this was his baby, too. What if he decided he wants to share custody?
Poppy put a hand on the counter to steady herself as her knees went weak. In her line of work she’d seen many children who spent three days a week with one parent and four days with the other. That arrangement served the parents’ needs, not necessarily the child’s who had no place to call home.
Ben seemed like a logical man, she reassured herself. A surgeon had to be logical. Still, doubts and fears spun like a twister in her head.
She had to get out, go for a walk, push down the panic rising like hot molten lava inside her.
Grabbing a jacket, Poppy was outside and down the steps in seconds. With no destination in mind, she strolled the sidewalks of downtown Jackson. Because of the balmy weather, tourists and locals were out in force, enjoying the shops and eateries.
Poppy turned when a car pulled up next to the curb and honked.
Her heart sank. It was Ben and staring out the passenger-side window was Groucho.
She sauntered over, ignoring the guilty flush creeping up her neck.
Ben lifted a brow. “You apparently got your work done?”
“I’m taking a break.” Poppy glanced at the dog whose entire body vibrated in welcome. “You couldn’t have gotten all the way out to Willowbrook and back.”
“Groucho was at the groomers on Broadway.” Ben patted the dog’s back. “It didn’t seem right to drop him off dirty.”
Poppy doubted Groucho had ever been what anyone could consider “dirty.” She fingered the dog’s red bandanna. “He certainly looks pretty.”
Groucho barked and Poppy couldn’t help but laugh at the animal’s expression. “I think he’s offended.”
“He’s a boy. No boy wants to be called pretty.”
“Okay, handsome.” Poppy reached a hand inside the car and patted the dog’s head.
“Are you certain you can’t spare a few minutes to come with us? It’s a nice drive and I know my parents would like to meet you.”
“You told them I’m pregnant.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I had to explain why I needed them to watch Groucho.”
Poppy raked a hand through her hair. Even though she’d assumed he’d told them, the realization that the news was out was still distressing. “Oh, Ben. I wish you’d waited.”
“They won’t say anything until I give them the go-ahead.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “Look, you’ll have to meet them sometime. They’re
entertaining tonight, so we’ll just say hello, drop off Groucho and leave.”
Poppy knew he was right. She would need to meet them and today’s short visit would be a perfect opportunity. Besides she could hardly tell him she was too busy when he’d caught her window-shopping. “Okay.”
Groucho jumped into the backseat while she slipped into the car.
“See,” Ben said as he pulled away from the curb. “A few hours around me and you’re already becoming more spontaneous.”
She cocked her head. “What are you talking about?”
“The night of the torch singing competition you told me you wanted to be more spontaneous. You didn’t plan to see my parents today so agreeing to go qualifies.”
“As spontaneous?”
“What else would you call it?”
Foolhardy was the word that popped into Poppy’s mind. “Spontaneous works.”
Though she had to meet them sometime, Poppy hoped she wouldn’t regret her “spontaneous” decision to meet them today.
Chapter Eleven
John and Dori Campbell’s house sat on eighty acres outside of Jackson, a spacious log home with a magnificent view of the Tetons. As the sleek Mercedes sped down the lane the home came into brilliant focus.
The car pulled to a stop and an ancient lab sleeping on the porch lumbered to his feet and began to bark. Poppy’s heart did a couple of slow rolls when the screen door opened. A tall slender woman with short chestnut hair stepped onto the porch.
Dressed simply in navy pants and a nautical-themed cotton sweater, Ben’s mother projected an air of casual elegance. She paused at the edge of the porch, dropping one hand to quiet the barking dog. Before Poppy had a chance to open her door, a man who reminded her of an older version of Ben, joined his wife at the rail.
Poppy had heard stories of the steely-eyed orthopedist, a doctor who made residents and nurses quake with his demands for perfection in every aspect of patient care. Even at a distance, Ben’s father exuded a commanding confidence.
Taking a deep breath, Poppy stepped from the car. Ben lifted a hand in welcome before joining Poppy in an all too short trek to his waiting parents.
Tail wagging frantically, Groucho emitted tiny staccato barks and raced up the steps to collapse at the feet of the lab.
“What a nice surprise.” His mother offered her hand in a natural, friendly gesture. “You must be Poppy. We’ve heard so much about you. I’m Dori, Ben’s mother.”
Poppy found it easy to return the warm smile. She gave the slender hand a firm shake, her gaze lingering on the impressive log structure rising two stories behind them. “You have a lovely home.”
Dori beamed. “Thank you. We like it very much.”
Ben gestured toward his dad. “This is my father, John Campbell.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Campbell,” Poppy said politely.
“John, please.” Though his gaze remained sharp and assessing, he spoke affably. “It’s nice to finally get to meet the woman my son will be moving in with.”
Ben’s fingers dug into her arm.
On the surface, Poppy’s schoolteacher father and Ben’s dad couldn’t be more different. Yet, something about John reminded Poppy of her father. Not only was she not intimidated by the illustrious Dr. Campbell, she found herself tempted to tease. She stifled the urge, instead offering him an easy smile. “As a matter of fact, Ben moved in today.”
“I understand you have an apartment in downtown Jackson,” John said. “I’m curious how you got him to abandon his new home for a small, less comfortable environment.”
No beating around the bush for this man. Exactly like her dad, she thought.
“John,” Dori chided. “Don’t start badgering the poor woman the second she steps on the porch.”
“Yeah, Dad, at least wait until she’s in the house,” Ben quipped, but Poppy caught the flash of warning he shot his father.
“You’re concerned about your son.” Poppy met his father’s direct gaze with one of her own. The man might have a reputation for being tough, but she saw worry beneath the steely edge. “I understand.”
A muscle in Ben’s jaw jumped. When he spoke his tone was ice. “Where I live is my business.”
“Of course it is, honey.” Dori patted her son’s arm, as if this byplay between father and son was nothing new. “I hope you and Poppy have time to stay for a glass of tea. I also have ginger cookies. With buttercream frosting.”
Poppy’s curiosity must have shown, because Dori smiled. “They’re Ben’s favorite.”
What did it say, Poppy wondered, that she and Ben had made a baby, yet she didn’t have a clue what kind of cookies he liked?
“I thought you had guests coming,” Ben said.
His mother waved a dismissive hand. “I have everything under control.”
Ben rocked back on his heels. “I appreciate the offer, and God knows I hate to turn down cookies, but Poppy and I both have work that needs to be completed today.”
Poppy had come with him today with the understanding they wouldn’t stay. Now he’d generously paved the way for them to leave without making her the bad guy. But the look of disappointment his mother tried so hard to hide tugged at Poppy’s heartstrings.
“We’ve driven all the way out here,” Poppy told Ben. “It seems a shame not to stay for a few minutes.”
The flicker of gratitude in Ben’s eyes sent a current of warmth rushing through her. When he looped an arm around her shoulders, she didn’t pull away.
“Looks like I’ll get to try one of those cookies, after all,” he said to his mother.
“You and Poppy can have as many as you like.” Pleasure filled Dori’s eyes. “I had Angela make a double batch.”
Before they stepped inside, Ben took a second to introduce Poppy to Huck, the ancient yellow lab whose gentle demeanor reminded her of her parents’ dog, Otis. She had no doubt that, like Otis, this animal would be wonderful with children.
For a second, she envisioned her and Ben coming for Sunday dinner at this house, watching their little one play with the dog or sit on Grandma or Grandpa’s lap while munching on ginger cookies with buttercream frosting. Then she realized that while that might be their child’s reality, it wouldn’t be hers.
Poppy swallowed a sigh and let Ben usher her through his parents’ home. It was as gorgeous inside as out, with shiny hardwood floors, rustic fixtures and comfortable furniture. The floor-to-ceiling windows flanking the back of the great room gave the interior a sense of openness.
The large stone fireplace with an intriguing wood mantel caught her eye just as a tiny white poodle with a pink rhinestone collar pranced into the room to greet the schnauzer.
“Cece has been looking forward to playing with you,” Dori told Groucho then opened the French doors leading to a back deck and shooed both dogs outside.
“Thanks for watching him, Mom.” Ben moved to his mother’s side and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “I appreciate it.”
“Groucho is a pleasure.” Dori turned to her husband. “We love having him. Don’t we, John?”
“Most of the time he’s no trouble,” his father agreed.
Though his dad uttered the words grudgingly, Poppy wasn’t fooled. On the porch she’d seen him give the dog a treat from his pocket and a pat when he thought no one was looking.
At Dori’s direction, Poppy took a seat on the leather sofa. When Ben sat beside her and took her hand, she stiffened before reminding herself this faux demonstration of affection was necessary.
If she and Ben expected others to believe this baby resulted from an intimate relationship—and not a one-night stand—they had to appear “friendly.”
“I’ll get the cookies and tea,” his mother said over her shoulder as she bustled off.
Seconds later Dori returned carrying a teakwood tray filled with glasses of iced tea and a plate of cookies. After placing the refreshments on the trunk-turned-coffee table, his mother turned to Poppy. “You simply must try one.”
Poppy obligingly picked up a cookie from the artfully arranged glass plate. She took a bite, and nearly moaned as the rich taste of ginger blended with the buttery cream of the frosting. “This is...wonderful.”
Ben grinned. “You have good taste.”
“Of course she does.” His mother held out the plate to him. “She picked you, didn’t she?”
For an instant, Ben’s gaze met Poppy’s.
“When Ben stopped out the other day he told us how you met.” Dori heaved a sigh. “So romantic.”
Poppy took a sip of tea. “Did he?”
Ben shifted in his seat to face Poppy. “I told them how cute you looked in your red glasses with your hair piled into that—”
“Beehive,” Poppy filled in, then glanced at Dori. “It was a retro party. I wore ’60s attire. Ben looked pretty snazzy in his white suit with bell bottoms. Oh, and we can’t forget the gold chain.”
“God bless the ’80s.” His mother’s laugh was like a silver bell, pure and clear. “John and I prefer the ’60s era for such events. I have a Pocahontas headband and huarache sandals I love to pull out.”
Dori turned toward her husband. “Remember when you wore that James Dean inspired outfit to the Pomeroys’ party?”
John winced and picked up his glass of tea. “Don’t remind me.”
“Winn Ferris went for the Rebel Without A Cause look at the Fisher party,” Poppy murmured. “Pulled it off, too. Very impressive.”
“Winn planned to maneuver Poppy under the mistletoe with him.” Ben’s voice held a curious intensity. “I wasn’t about to let that happen.”
Poppy started to laugh then realized he was serious. “Do you expect me to believe you were the reason we found ourselves under the mistletoe together?”
“I’ve always been resourceful.” He lifted her hand, brushing a kiss against her fingers.