by Devney Perry
“What made you ask?”
She shrugged and speared a bite of lettuce. “Just curious.”
She may as well have said, “End of discussion.” Not that I would have pressed anyway. I couldn’t imagine how hard it would be for her to think about that night, let alone talk about it. And with a restaurant full of people, tonight wasn’t the time for a recap.
If she ever wanted to talk about that night, I’d be all ears. If she never wanted to speak of it again, that was fine too.
“I hear you’re saying yes to everything today?” I chased a bite of macaroni with some water.
She nodded, smiling again as she chewed.
“A guy could take advantage of that.”
Her chewing stopped and her blue eyes snapped to mine.
“Me, for example. I could use this to get exactly what I want.”
I didn’t miss the way her eyes flared, and damn, it was sexy. If things were farther along—if this were a year from now and we were in a different place—I could have used this game to have her moaning yes all night long. But we weren’t there, and I wasn’t a complete asshole.
But I did love to tease.
“Poppy,” I whispered, leaning closer.
Her breaths were shallow as she waited.
“Will you bring me both the mixed berry and the apple pie?”
She blinked twice, then a hand flew over her mouth—still full of salad—covering it as she laughed. “Yes.”
I grinned, sitting back in my chair and digging into my food. “Maybe you can tell me more about this list too? It seems like every time I see you you’re on to something new.”
Her hand fell. “You really want to know?”
“I really want to know.”
Chapter Seven
35th Birthday: Take a photo of myself every day for a year
POPPY
Cole’s interest in Jamie’s birthday list surprised me. No one but me had ever gotten excited about the list since Jamie had died, but Cole was genuinely curious. And eager, maybe? Whatever it was, I liked the sparkle it added to his eyes.
“Okay, um . . .” The best way for me to explain everything on the list was just to hand over the journal, except no one but me and Jamie had ever touched it before. Would it be strange to let Cole read it? Would that have bothered Jamie? I smiled to myself. No. Jamie had been so proud of his list, he’d have plastered it on a billboard.
“Be right back.” I held up a finger to Cole, then got up from the table and walked to the register. Leaning over the counter, I dug through my purse, which I’d stashed underneath the register. When my fingers brushed leather, I pulled out Jamie’s journal, stroking the cover once before standing back up.
The second I turned back to our table, I found Cole’s gaze locked on the place where my ass had just been. His eyes were darker, the spark behind them now a blaze. He didn’t even try to hide it as his gaze traced up my stomach and over my breasts. He lingered a bit on my chest, drawing out his inspection, until he finally continued to my face. When his stare found my lips, I fought the urge to lick them. When he found my eyes, I didn’t want to blink.
Sexy. Cole was the epitome of sexy. The sexiest man I’d ever seen.
No, not Cole. Jamie. What was wrong with me? I blinked, forcing my eyes away from Cole’s as I mentally chastised myself again. Jamie was the sexiest man I’d ever seen. Jamie. My husband.
Cole was just new. That’s why I found him so attractive. I hadn’t spent years with him, studying his face and finding flaws. I bet if I looked at him long enough, I’d realize that his ears were kind of pointed and his eyebrows were on the bushy side. And he had to have some imperfections underneath his jeans and black polo. No one was that cut—not in real life.
If I spent the time with Cole, like I had with Jamie, I’d realize he wasn’t an Adonis. He was just a man. A man who wasn’t Jamie.
A man who was now looking at me with furrowed eyebrows—which weren’t bushy at all.
I unglued my sneakers from the floor and walked back to the table, holding out the journal for Cole. “Here. This was Jamie’s birthday list.”
He looked at it for a moment, not taking it from my outstretched hand. “Are you sure?”
I gave him a sad smile, glad that he understood how much trust I was giving him. “Go ahead.”
Cole wiped his hands on a napkin before he took the book, then he carefully opened the cover. I sat back down, concentrating on my meal as he slowly flipped through the journal, and did my best not to stare with every swish of a turning page. Every once in a while, he’d let out a small chuckle. On other pages, I’d catch him frowning—I doubted he liked the fire alarm item.
When he reached the end, Cole surprised me by going back to the beginning, starting again.
“I’ll get dessert.”
Cole didn’t glance up from the journal. “Thanks.”
Clearing my plate and his, I went back to the kitchen and put the dishes in the sink. Then I went back out front to get Cole’s desserts in the oven. Molly was busy clearing a couple of tables so I took a few moments to breathe and watch the timer on the oven tick down.
I’d figured out a way to partially bake my minipies when I was prepping them so that when a customer came in, they only had to wait five minutes instead of twenty. They weren’t quite as good as they were completely fresh, but the only person who knew the difference seemed to be me.
So for the five minutes that Cole’s pies were baking, I did my best to settle the anxiety that had grown ever since I’d handed him the journal.
My fingers tapped on the counter as I tried to make sense of my nerves. Was I nervous to hear what Cole had to say about Jamie’s list? Or nervous that he’d think me doing the list was stupid? Or worse, was I nervous that Cole would think Jamie’s ideas were stupid?
Given the short time we’d spent together, it surprised me how much Cole’s opinion mattered. I knew he liked me, but I wanted him to like Jamie too.
And the birthday list was Jamie.
The timer dinged, ending my reprieve, and on autopilot, I took out the pies and wrapped them in napkins before adding a dollop of ice cream on both. Then I carried them on a tray back to the table, where Cole had closed the journal and was watching me with a seriousness that only made my anxiety spike.
“These are still hot.” I set down his jars and took my seat. I slid my hands underneath my bouncing knees so I wouldn’t flap them around as we talked.
Cole grabbed the apple pie first, taking a small bite with his spoon. “Wow. No wonder Randall wants ten of these a day.” He took another bite, sucking in some air to cool down the crust. “This is amazing.”
I smiled as pride swelled. I knew my desserts were good, but Cole’s approval felt incredible. I hadn’t been this excited about my silly little apple pies since the first night I’d made them for Jamie.
“That’s quite a list.” Cole nodded toward the journal in between bites.
“It is.” My smile faltered at the way his jaw hardened.
“Are you planning on doing these all by yourself?”
“Um, yes.” How else was I going to get through them all?
“That’s going to take a while.”
“I hope not,” I sighed. “My goal is to get them done before New Year’s.”
“What?” His spoon dropped into the jar, clinking against the glass. “That’s less than six months away.”
“I know.” Just thinking about all I still had to do made my shoulders fall. “I thought I could do it, but with the restaurant and some of the bigger things on the list, it will take longer. I was really hoping to have it done before Jamie’s birthday.”
That seemed impossible now. With the restaurant and all of the other things I was adding to my daily schedule, piling on more was going to wear me thin. If I didn’t let up, my self-imposed deadline would stress me to the max.
Which meant it would take just that much longer to put this list behind me. Could I do it if
I added another year? Maybe two?
I didn’t have to do this all so soon. But I wanted to. I wanted to do this for Jamie and let it go. Every day, I was getting stronger. I was getting back on my feet. I was starting to live again—for me.
And until the list was done, I’d still be living for Jamie.
“Look.” Cole leaned his elbows on the table. “I don’t want to step on your toes. This is an awesome list and he had some cool ideas. If you want to do them on your own, I understand. I get that this is incredibly personal. But if you’d like, I’d be glad to help you with some of these.”
“What?” I didn’t know what made me smile more. That he thought Jamie’s list was cool or that he wanted to help. Regardless, I was beaming. “You’d really help?”
Cole’s eyes were sparkling again. “In a heartbeat.”
“Well? What do you think?” I asked.
The restaurant was clean and closed, and while we’d been prepping in the kitchen for tomorrow, I’d been telling Molly everything about my dinner with Cole.
“I don’t know.” She grabbed another tomato to chop for the salad jars. “Do you want his help?”
“Yes,” I admitted as I rolled out my piecrust.
Finn and Molly would help if I asked, but they each had so much on their plates already. And something about bringing Cole onboard felt . . . right. The instant he’d told me he’d help, a rush of confidence had spread through my veins. For the first time in weeks, I felt like this might actually happen. I might actually finish Jamie’s list by the end of the year.
“I think it’s a good thing.” Molly grinned. “If he’s willing, then take him up on his offer. And besides that, I think it’ll be good for you to spend some time with someone else. A man someone else.”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“I know. Your intentions are strictly platonic. But I also know that you’ve got the hots for the guy.”
“I don’t have—”
“And that scares you to death.”
Denial would be pointless so I stopped rolling the dough to tell her the truth. “So much. And it makes me feel guilty. So guilty.”
Molly set down her knife to look at me. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. Jamie would want you to be happy.”
“But I don’t want to forget him. Every day I feel like he’s slipping further and further away from me.” And every moment I spent with Cole, that slip happened faster and faster. Last night I’d broken down in tears because I couldn’t get the picture of Cole’s eyes out of my head. I’d ended up studying Jamie’s picture for an hour, trying to re-memorize his eyes and block out Cole’s.
But as much as I wanted to block him out, Cole Goodman was on my mind.
“Poppy, just because you find yourself attracted to another man doesn’t mean you’ll forget Jamie. It just means you’re letting him go. Wasn’t that what this whole list was about?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I just . . . it hurts.”
My heart had been in pieces since the night Jamie had been killed. It had taken every day of the last five years for the pain in my chest to fade to a dull ache. Still, it was there. And after every one of my interactions with Cole, that ache flared. Because when I was with Cole, I wasn’t remembering Jamie.
Cole made me forget the pain.
“I miss Jamie.” My voice cracked as the burn of tears hit my eyes. “I miss him every day. At the same time, I want to move on with my life. I know Jamie would be pissed that I’ve spent the last five years crying for him. But if I move on, who will remember him? All he has is his family and me to keep him alive.”
Molly rounded the table and pulled me into a hug. “Remember what you decided after Jamie died? How you’d get through?”
I nodded. “Minute by minute.”
After Jamie’s funeral, I’d spent months in bed. I’d sunk into a crippling depression, barely able to function on my own. Finally, Finn and Molly had gotten so worried that they’d flown my parents to town and staged an intervention. My parents had asked me to move home to Alaska, and I’d almost agreed, until Finn and Molly had announced they were pregnant with Kali. That was the first time I’d smiled after Jamie had died, and it had been my turning point. That day, I’d decided to stay so I could be here for Kali’s birth, and I’d decided to take life minute by minute. Some minutes were better than others, but it was the only way I’d been able to live a life without my husband.
Minute by minute.
“My advice is to take things with Cole minute by minute. Can you try that? And remember, you have to say yes.”
I smiled and hugged her tighter. “Yes. I’ll try.”
Molly’s phone rang on the table, interrupting our hug. I sniffled as she let me go, and swallowed the burn in my throat, determined not to cry.
“Hey,” Molly answered the call. “Okay, sure.”
She lifted the phone from her ear and held it out as Finn’s FaceTime request popped up on the screen.
“Hi, Mommy!” Kali’s little voice filled the kitchen.
“Hi, sweetie!” Molly beamed at her daughter. “How are you? You look so pretty and clean. Did you just have bath time?”
Kali nodded. “I’m in my bed too.”
“I’m so glad you called. Did you have fun at Daddy’s tonight?”
“Uh-huh.” She smiled and snuggled closer into Finn’s chest.
“Were they good?” Molly asked my brother.
“Yeah. Sorry, Max fell asleep early before we could call.”
“That’s okay.”
“Mommy? Is tomorrow a Daddy night or a Mommy night?”
“It’s a Mommy night.”
I pulled my top lip between my teeth to keep from speaking up. Mommy nights. Daddy nights. I wanted to scream at Finn and pound on the table until Molly and my brother realized what they were missing. They were throwing love away. I’d give anything to have Jamie back, and here they were, wasting a happy life because they were too stubborn to look past some mistakes.
But as always, I kept my mouth shut and went back to my piecrust.
“Say good night, Kali,” Finn ordered. “It’s late.”
Kali yawned. “Night night, Mommy.”
Molly blew her a kiss. “Night night, Kali bug. I love you.”
“Bye,” Finn muttered and ended the call.
Molly tossed the phone on the counter and braced her hands on the metal, hanging her head between her shoulders.
Oh, Molly. Mine wasn’t the only troubled heart in this kitchen.
When her shoulders started to shake, I abandoned my crust and went to her side, wrapping her in another hug. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded and swiped away the tears. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t cry.”
“You can always cry, especially on me.” I’d cried on her shoulder more times than I could count. “And it’s not only your fault. You both made mistakes.”
Molly shook her head. “No. This is on me.”
“But—”
“I cheated on him, Poppy.” I cringed as she stressed that ugly word again. “End of story. End of marriage.”
End of discussion.
She stepped out of my embrace, drying her face as she went back to her chopping and I went back to the piecrust. We worked in silence for an hour, both deep in our own heads, until finally Molly spoke up.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever love anyone other than Finn. Maybe you’ll never love anyone other than Jamie. But will you promise me something? I don’t want us both to live our lives with broken hearts. If someone new comes along—if he already has—promise you won’t let fear keep you from trying again.”
I crossed my heart. “Yes, I promise.”
A few days after Cole had offered to help me with Jamie’s birthday list, I was at Lindley Park with my phone angled up to my face as I attempted to take a selfie.
“What are you doing?” Cole asked.
I dropped my phone, surprised to see Cole standing a few feet away. Damn i
t. I’d hoped to have a few minutes alone to take my daily picture.
“Um, nothing. Just taking a selfie.” Or twelve.
He grinned. “Pictures usually look better when you smile.”
“I hate selfies.” I grimaced. “My nose is too big for selfies.”
“What? You do not have a big nose.”
“I have nearly two hundred pictures proving you wrong.” I’d never thought my nose was big until I’d started this selfie ritual. Now I was finding props—a book, a coffee mug, my hand—to cover it for my daily picture.
“Give me that.” Cole snatched the phone from my hand. “Now sit on that bench and smile.”
I slumped on the metal seat, scrunching up my nose to give him an exaggerated toothy grin.
He dropped his arms and frowned. “I’ve seen mug shots better than that.”
I laughed, and just as I did, he snapped a picture. “There. Was that so hard?”
I pushed off the bench and walked to his side, peering around his arms at the picture. “Not bad, Detective. Not bad at all.”
“Picture a day for a year?” he guessed.
“Yep,” I said, popping the p. “There were a couple of days where I almost forgot at the beginning but now it’s habit.”
My first picture had been on Jamie’s birthday. I’d made his favorite chocolate cake and taken a picture with all his candles. Since then, I’d tried to take my selfies without tears and puffy eyes.
Today’s picture would be my first nonselfie to add to the stack.
“Thanks for meeting me today.” Since the restaurant closed after lunch on Sundays, I’d texted Cole and asked if he’d meet me at the park so we could make a plan to tackle some of the bigger items on the birthday list.
“Glad to. Do you want to hang out here or walk around?”
“A walk sounds good.” I swung out my arm. “Lead the way.”
Cole brushed past me and I caught a whiff of his natural scent mixed with traces of Irish Spring. My big nose acted on its own and followed that smell, sucking in so much air through my nostrils that they whizzed. To an onlooker, I probably looked ridiculous, following Cole’s movements with my nose, but he smelled so good, so different, I needed just one more breath.