by Devney Perry
The last thing I needed was to get a hard-on under my gi. Luckily, the top hung low enough to hide my quick adjustment while everyone was in line for water.
“Now that’s an ass worth squeezing,” Danny whispered, his eyes glued to Poppy’s ass. I wasn’t sure if he’d meant to say it out loud, but I saw red. He was right, her ass was spectacular, but he didn’t get to say that out loud.
“Watch it, Danny.” I clamped my hand on his shoulder and dragged him out of the line. “You went too far with that workout. We don’t push that hard when we’ve got guest students and you know it. I was willing to let that go, but you just crossed the line. You’ve got suicide drills and pull-ups for the rest of class. If I see you slacking, then we’ll stay late and do another workout until you learn the limits. Understood?”
His face paled. “I’m sorry, Sensei.”
“We treat women with respect, inside and outside of this dojo. Think it. Don’t speak it.” I pointed to the far side of the room and loomed to my full six-foot-two height. “Now get to work.”
He nodded, his shoulders drooping as he walked away.
After everyone else had taken a drink, I slurped some water from the fountain and then motioned for Poppy to join me in the far corner of the room.
She wiped her brow with the back of her left hand, her wedding rings glinting in the overhead light.
“It’s okay for tonight,” I pointed to her ring finger, “but next time, you’ll want to take those off. Better to leave them in the locker room than jam your finger and have them cut off at the hospital.”
“Um . . .” She dropped her hand and inspected the emerald engagement ring and white-gold wedding band. “I haven’t taken these off since Jamie . . . you know.”
“Oh, uh, right.” I guess I didn’t need to ask if she’d gotten remarried—not if she was still wearing her late husband’s rings. “Well, just think about it for next time. Are you doing okay after the workout?”
“I’m alive and I haven’t fallen on my face.” She smiled. “That’s a win for me tonight.”
I chuckled. “Then we’ll make sure you get through the next thirty minutes on your feet and call it good.”
“I’d like that.”
I spent the next few minutes teaching her about her stances and how to take the proper semicircular steps. When she had that down, I asked her to make a fist.
“Like this?”
“Not quite.” I took her hands in mine to adjust her grip, but the moment we touched, I forgot all about karate.
My eyes locked with hers as both of us froze, and the other people in the dojo disappeared. Just like that handshake in the hallway, her touch blocked out the world and sent fire blazing through my veins.
And right to my cock.
I broke away fast, needing a moment to think asexual thoughts before I made things really awkward. “Um . . .” I motioned her forward. “Go ahead and practice a few more steps like I just showed you.”
“Sure.” Her musical voice didn’t help my growing erection.
While she stepped toward the mirrors, I searched my brain for unsexy images and did my best to avoid staring at her slender legs. I stared at Robert’s bald head. The sweat drops on the mats. Danny’s hairy feet. I rotated through them all and by the time Poppy walked back to my side, the swelling in my boxers was at least manageable.
“Was that okay?”
“You did great. I’m going to go get us some pads.” I gave her a wide berth as I walked to the stack of pads on the far wall, but her vanilla scent seemed to follow.
“Get it together,” I muttered as I grabbed one large pad and one small.
“What was that, Sensei?” a green belt asked.
“Oh, uh, I said your kata is really coming together.”
“Thanks!”
I did my best not to touch Poppy through the rest of class, but even with the pads as a barrier, we brushed every now and then. By the time our thirty minutes were up, I was desperate for a cold shower.
“How’d she do?” Robert asked, joining us before class ended.
“Good.” I cleared the block in my throat. “She’s a natural.”
“Ha,” Poppy scoffed. “More like a klutz. I kicked his fingers more than I kicked the pad.” Her big blue eyes looked up to me for her hundredth apology. “Sorry.”
“Like I said, I’m fine. It didn’t hurt a bit.”
She turned to Robert and smiled. “Thank you for having me tonight.”
“Glad you joined us. Come back anytime.”
“I appreciate the offer and letting me try this out, but I don’t think karate is for me.”
Robert nodded. “Fair enough. It’s not for everyone. If you ever change your mind, you’re always welcome.” He shook hands with Poppy and then called for the entire class to bow out.
Without a word, Poppy scurried to the door, her hair swishing across her back as she disappeared into the locker room.
The sight of her retreating hit me in the gut. She wasn’t coming back to the dojo and I didn’t want to wait another five years to see her again. So instead of visiting with the other students, I hurried to the lobby and waited for Poppy to come out of the ladies’ room.
It didn’t take her more than a minute to emerge into the hall with keys in hand and sneakers on her feet. The moment she spotted me, her feet stopped short. “Oh, hi.”
“I, um . . . I just wanted to say it was nice to see you.”
“Thanks.” She took a few steps toward the door.
“Wait,” I blurted before she could leave. “Can I see you again? To catch up.”
She stopped and turned, a war waging behind her eyes. She didn’t want to say yes. She didn’t want to say no. “I don’t know.”
It was honest.
Honest, I could work with.
“Will you at least think about it?”
“All right.” She started for the door again, but just before she touched the handle, she paused, speaking over her shoulder. “Thank you for staying with me that night.”
Then she was gone before I could even say you’re welcome.
“Fuck,” I grumbled and rubbed my face.
“What was that?” Robert had appeared by my side.
“Oh, nothing. Just a long day. I’d better get changed.”
I hustled into the locker room, not wanting to stick around for the chatter tonight, and waved good-bye before heading home.
What I needed was a beer—or three—and some time alone to think.
Something about Poppy was different, and it wasn’t just the extreme circumstances we’d met under. No woman had ever stirred my blood like she had tonight, not even Aly.
Aly, whose car was sitting in my driveway, blocking the garage, when I pulled up to my house.
“Damn it. Not tonight.” I shook my head, parked my black truck on the street and stepped out just as she was coming through the front door with a box in her arms.
“Hey,” Aly said, walking down the steps from the porch.
I crossed the short sidewalk and met her by her car. “Hey.”
“Sorry. I was trying to be gone before you got home.”
“It’s okay. Here, let me help.” I reached out and lifted the box from her arms.
“Thanks.” She opened the back door of her car and I set the box inside. When I stood, she was twisting my house key off her chain. “Here you go.”
Our fingers brushed when I took it from her hand, but I didn’t get even a minor jolt. Touching Aly, the woman I’d dated for two years and lived with for six months, wasn’t anything compared to the touch I’d felt earlier with Poppy.
It cemented the decision I’d made last week. Breaking up with Aly hadn’t been easy, but it had been right.
“Cole.” She stepped closer, looking up at me with pleading eyes. The same eyes that she used whenever she wanted me to fuck her senseless.
“No, Aly.” I stepped back. “We both know that would just make this harder.”
Her shoulders tensed as she backed away. “Harder for me, you mean? Because you’re just fine. One week after we’re broken up and you’re back to normal. Like the last two years together meant nothing. Meanwhile, I’m living in my sister’s guest room, crying myself to sleep every night.”
“I’m—”
“Sorry. I know.” She slammed the car door closed and spun on her heel as she rounded the hood. She threw open the driver’s door but paused, looking at me from over her car. Then she waited.
“Take care of yourself, Aly.”
She huffed, then got in the car and backed out of the driveway, wiping tears off her cheeks.
I waited for her car to disappear down the street before going inside. Standing in my living room, I swept my eyes across the furniture. The toss pillows were gone. Aly had taken those, along with the throw blanket she had always used when we were watching TV.
I fucking hated that I’d hurt her. She was a good woman, just not the one for me. After two years, I’d never felt like she was the one. I’d never pictured asking her to marry me. Not once. We’d been on and off for our first year and a half together, but then she’d lost her roommate and moved in with me. Even after six months of Aly telling me she loved me, I’d never felt compelled to say it back.
I made my way to the kitchen for a beer, and as I opened the refrigerator door, my phone rang. I tugged it out of my pocket and pressed it between my cheek and shoulder. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetie. How are you?”
“I’m good.” Or at least I was. The fridge was empty. Aly had taken all of my beer too. Damn it. Who took a man’s beer? That was just mean. She didn’t even drink beer—which I should have taken as a sign.
“I was calling to see if you and Aly could come over for dinner tomorrow. We haven’t seen you both in weeks.”
“I see Dad almost every day.”
“That doesn’t count. I haven’t seen you both in weeks.”
I took a deep breath and shut the door to the fridge. Mom was going to be pissed that I’d broken it off with Aly. She’d had her hopes up for a wedding and grandkids. “Mom, listen. Aly and I broke up.”
“What?” she gasped. “When?”
“Last week,” I muttered and braced.
“Last week!” she shrieked. “Why didn’t you call to tell me? Is she okay? Where is she going to live?”
“With her sister until she can find a new place. She’s hurt but it was for the best.”
“And how are you?”
“Fine, but I feel like an asshole.”
“Oh, Cole.”
I sighed. “I tried, Mom. I really did. But I just don’t . . .”
“You don’t love her. I know. It wasn’t hard to see.”
I abandoned my fridge and pulled out a stool from underneath the island, slumping onto the seat. “I should have ended it earlier. I shouldn’t have dragged it out this long and hurt her even more.”
“Well,” Mom said, “at least you didn’t marry her.”
“True.”
My eyes landed on the laptop by my side and I slid it over. As Mom talked into my ear, my fingers pulled up Google. Then they typed in Poppy’s name.
Her Facebook page popped up first. Instead of a profile picture, there was a logo for The Maysen Jar. What was The Maysen Jar? I clicked the picture to read the caption. Grand opening tomorrow!
Poppy had a restaurant and it was opening tomorrow?
“Cole!” Mom yelled into the phone.
“Huh? Oh, sorry. What was that?”
“I asked if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow.”
I closed the profile picture and clicked on another Facebook photo. This one was of Poppy standing outside a restaurant. Her hair was swept up in a bun and her arm was looped with a brunette’s. She was only five five or five six, but her legs went on for miles in her tight jeans and heels. The photo was stunning, but what really drew me in was her smile.
A smile I wanted to see for myself.
“Cole,” Mom huffed.
“Sorry, Mom.” I closed the laptop. “I can’t make it for dinner tomorrow. I’ve got plans.”
Chapter Three
29th Birthday: Go skydiving
POPPY
“I love the name of your restaurant.” My customer handed me her credit card.
I smiled and swiped. “Thank you.”
“Except she spelled it wrong,” Randall grumbled on the other side of the register.
He’d been camped out on “his stool” all afternoon and evening, offering commentary to people as they came to pay their tabs. He’d been talking and eating. Randall had walked in right before the lunch rush and had since eaten two quiches, a spinach salad, a chicken potpie, three apple pies and two peach cobblers.
“Mason,” he muttered. “M-a-s-o-n. That’s how you spell mason jar.”
My customer looked at him, about to come to my rescue, but I just laughed. “Ignore him,” I told her as I handed back her card. “He’s just grouchy because I cut him off after five desserts.”
Randall scowled. “Grown man can’t even indulge in desserts these days without a lecture.”
“You’ll thank me later when you aren’t in a sugar coma.” I shot him my so there look and turned back to my customer with a smile. “Thanks for coming in! I hope you enjoyed everything.”
“Oh, yes, it was wonderful. You’ve got a fantastic menu. And so creative.” She glared at Randall. “Especially the name. I’ll definitely be back.”
“Thanks again!” I waved good-bye as she turned to leave.
When the door closed behind her, I surveyed the empty tables in the restaurant. For the first time since seven this morning, they were all vacant.
“Wow.” Molly joined me at the register with a wet rag. “That was crazy. I figured we’d be busy, but never that busy. We’re sold out of everything but one potpie and three salads.”
“It’s a good thing we’re closing in,” I glanced at my watch, “twenty-seven minutes.”
Not that I’d be going home. I’d be in the kitchen all night making breakfast dishes for the morning and replenishing the dessert cooler.
The late-evening summer sun was starting to set, and the dinner rush had finally subsided. At nearly eight, closing time for my small café was just around the corner, and as much as I didn’t want to turn customers away, I was hoping that my now-empty tables would remain that way. I didn’t want to have to explain—again—why I had so few options to offer from the menu.
“I need to adjust inventory plans for this week. I felt like a chump telling people we had hardly anything left.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Molly patted my hand. “People understood. You can make some adjustments and everything will be fine.”
“Traffic will probably slow down once we’re not the new thing anymore, but until then, we should plan for more.”
She nodded. “I agree. I’ve already updated the budget and sales projections.”
“You make sure to add a few extra pies to your tally for me.” Randall pulled on his cap. “I don’t want you running out if I’m here.”
Molly rolled her eyes but I just smiled. “Okay, Randall. I’ll make sure to save you some desserts.”
He slid off his stool and grabbed his cane. “See you girls tomorrow.” He gave me a pointed stare. “Don’t stay too late.”
I crossed my heart. “Promise.”
Molly and I waited for him to leave before we both burst out laughing. Yesterday, I’d thought my chances of seeing Randall James again were slim to none. Now, I was thinking he’d be my most frequent customer.
“Today was a good day.” Molly grabbed her rag and started wiping down the counter.
“A very good day.” With the exception of running low on food, I couldn’t imagine the opening having gone any better. Customers had been happy. Jars had been scraped clean. And I had found my rhythm quickly, balancing work in the kitchen and managing the counter with Molly.
And
though he was a bit cantankerous, Randall had been a welcome and comforting presence today. Anytime I’d gotten flustered or started to stress, I’d found his eyes waiting for me with a small nod. His silent encouragement had saved me today.
Molly finished wiping the counter and started on the tables. “I’m glad we’re bringing in a part-time helper soon. I don’t think I can handle six in the morning until after eight at night on a regular basis. I’m dead on my feet.”
“Me too.” Except I’d been here since four and would probably stay until well after midnight.
As Molly cleaned, I took a tub of silverware and black paper napkins to a table and collapsed into the seat. Closing my eyes, I relaxed for a few seconds before getting back to work, rolling the silverware in the napkins and finishing them with a white paper ring.
Molly finished up with the tables and came to sit down, helping me with the silverware. “I’m going home, taking a long, hot bath and then going straight to bed. For once, I’m glad Finn has the kids at his place so I can crash.”
Finn had come in earlier with Kali and Max so they could eat dinner. When Molly had joined them, I’d gotten a momentary swell of hope that the four of them might have a nice family meal, but then Finn had squashed it. He’d turned his chair sideways, away from Molly, with a two-foot gap between them so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact. He’d literally given her the cold shoulder.
“Did you and Finn talk at all during dinner?” I asked.
Molly shook her head. “No. He won’t talk to me. I’ve tried for months but . . . you know. He’ll never forgive me.”
I gave her a sad smile. She’d given up hope, but I hadn’t. Not when there was still love there.
Because Finn and Molly did love one another. Anyone who spent thirty seconds with them could feel it. But their marriage hadn’t been easy. A year ago, the two of them had been going through a rough patch. Finn had been working a ton and not spending much time at home. When he was there, he’d take his work stress out on Molly. They’d been fighting so much, Finn had actually moved out. They’d agreed on a separation and therapy, but Finn had never found the time to meet with their counselor.
Then Molly had made a mistake.