My phone chirps in my pocket, so I pull it out and read the display. My smile turns to a big grin when I read the text message.

Poppy: Is it wrong of me to miss you after only one faceless visit?

I answer her immediately.

Me: I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. What are you doing right now?”

While I wait for her response, I look up to find my mom watching me, her eyes lit with interest.

“What’s her name?” she asks softly.

“Poppy,” I answer.

“Poppy,” she repeats, smiling. “Such a pretty name.”

I glance down when my phone alerts me again of an incoming message.

Poppy: I just got done with a very lonely picnic, wishing you were there with me.

Me: After this week, I promise to be at all your picnics.

Poppy will never go on a picnic alone again after this weekend. I plan to picnic her out. She’ll be so sick of them she’ll never want another one.

I get up from my seat, walk around the table and kiss the top of my mom’s head. She looks up at me with love shining in her eyes.

“I have a few phone calls I need to make. I’ll be back down in a bit.”

“Okay. But I want to hear more about Poppy later. I want to know all about her.”

I nod and she slings one arm around my waist and gives it a squeeze, then lets me go. I walk away and head to the stairs to my childhood room. My parents insist that it will always be my room and when I visit, that’s where I sleep. The only thing that’s changed is they’ve switched out my twin bed with a queen, which is a good thing because I’m not sure I would fit in the smaller one anymore. All my old awards and trophies still sit on a shelf above the small captain’s desk against one wall. The old hardwood floor shines, and the area rug squishes beneath my feet as I walk across it to the bed. Once I’m seated, I look back at my phone and the waiting text.

Poppy: I can’t wait to bring you to the park I always go to.

Me: Soon, Beautiful, and you can take me anywhere you want.

Her response comes a few seconds later.

Poppy: Give me another letter.

Pleasure zips through me at her demand. She’s so damn adamant about getting those letters out of me. I love that she’s so into the game I’m playing.

Me: H. I’ll call you this evening before bed, Beautiful.

She doesn’t respond, but I didn’t expect her to. I pull the video feed up, needing a quick glance at her before I make my phone calls. She’s in her living room, sitting on her couch looking down at her phone, a stunning smile on her face. My chest swells, knowing I put that smile there.

She has a look of concentration on her face, and I wonder if she’s trying to rearrange the letters in her head, trying to figure out my name. I know the combination I’ve given her will make it difficult for her, but I can’t help the small part of me that hopes she figures it out. Regardless, my time is almost up, and once that happens, there will be no holding back. I’ll give her time to come to terms with what I’ve done and who I am, but after that, I’ll move full force ahead. Poppy won’t know what hit her.

Chapter Twelve

Poppy

I stand in my closet and stare at the contents. Why didn’t I buy more clothes when I went boot shopping yesterday? I have skirts, dresses, slacks, and every color blouse imaginable, but not one damn thing I can wear that has a western feel to it. I’m such an idiot. I should have done what Asher suggested and bought a plaid shirt. Maybe I can talk him into letting me shop if we have the time while we’re there.

A stirring of desire blasts through me when I think about spending the next few days with him. But then guilt trickles in when I think about Sterling. Both men have me tied in knots and fill me with confusion. I have no right to feel the way I do toward Asher. He’s my boss for Christ’s sake. I’ve worked for him coming up on a year and yes, I’ve had several fantasies featuring him, but it’s one-sided. He’s not interested in me. And Sterling, I still don’t know who he is. But the pull I feel toward him is undeniable and won’t be ignored.

A hand pushes me aside and then extends out to reach for a blue silk shirt, then a red one. Without saying a word, Liv leaves the closet. Slumping my shoulders, I follow her and plop down on my bed.

“Why did you let me leave the store without buying something that would help me blend in with the locals?” I whine. “I can’t go dancing in that.” I pluck up the blue shirt and let it drop back to the bed.

Tags: Alex Grayson Erotic
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