If I thoughta family date would be easy, simple, I was dead wrong.
During the entire meal, I could hardly keep my hands to myself. I wanted to touch every bit of Poppy’s exposed skin. I’d developed an unhealthy obsession with her bare shoulder, and I’m cursing the fact that the dress she’s got on isn’t strapless. Hell, what I wouldn’t give for a full view of this woman.
She’s gorgeous and fragile. She’s honest in a way that too many people aren’t. And I don’t mean women I’ve dated. They tend to be brutally honest about what they want: money, someone to fuck, and usually someone to take care of them.
Poppy is different. I feel like she wants me every bit as much as I want her. But she’s fighting it. Trapped in an old love story with a husband who’s a ghost.
The only question is how long it’s going to take for Poppy to be ready. Because when ithappens, when I make her mine, there won’t be any room for ghosts between us.
Savage and Shadow show up right after I get the bill paid. I load Poppy and all the kids into my truck, and Shadow follows us in Poppy’s car, so she doesn’t have to worry about getting back to her place safely. After we figure out who’s driving where, we head out.
The drive to Poppy’s is rowdy. The three kids sit together in the back seat, cracking one another up and talking like they’ve known one another all their lives.
Jax is a whip-smart kid with a great sense of humor. I can tell by the way Daisy talks to him that he’s probably not going to be a candidate for her future babysitting business. They sound more like best friends. I’m just glad they’re paying attention to each other so I can enjoy the last few minutes of Poppy’s company.
“I meant what I said in the restaurant,” I say, flicking a look at her.
She’s staring straight ahead, but I can see the corner of her mouth turn into a smile. “Me too,” she says quietly. “I’m right there,” Poppy says, pointing. But as we pull into the driveway, she leans all the way forward in the seat. “Something’s wrong,” she says, her voice low. “Phantom, is the front door open? My front light is off. I never leave it off.”
I jump out of the truck and come around to the passenger side. I open the door and pop the glove box in front of Poppy’s lap. I meet her eyes and keep my voice calm as I grab my Glock. “Stay here and keep the kids quiet,” I tell her, resting a hand on her knee. “I’ll send Shadow to sit with you.”
Her eyes go huge when she sees my gun, but she nods and turns to the kids. I close the passenger door, then jog down to the driveway and motion for Savage to get out. I point to the front door. Shadow joins me, already pulling out his piece, but I motion with a finger toward my truck with the kids and Poppy.
Savage approaches the front door like a SEAL about to breach an enemy camp. He nudges the door open quietly with his elbow, something he does so he doesn’t leave boot prints on the door. Then he enters, his weapon drawn, without making a sound. I follow, looking back to see Shadow behind the wheel of my truck, watching the whole thing go down.
My heart hammers in my throat, and my adrenaline kicks into high gear as we step through mountains of shit on the floor. Papers are shredded and tossed everywhere. The couch is turned over, the television is smashed. Even if Poppy were a hoarder, there’s no way she lives with her place looking like this.
Something is very, very wrong here. Somebody trashed Poppy’s place.
Savage motions to me, and we go through the living room to a small, open kitchen. The fridge is hanging wide open, and every condiment that was once inside has been shattered on the floor. Glass and food coat the walls and the floor. We don’t touch anything and back up, careful not to disturb anything. We don’t turn on any lights and use only the flashlights on our phones to survey the damage.
I head down a hall and check out a small bathroom and what must be Poppy’s bedroom, and then, together,we go upstairs. The house feels still and silent, so I’m guessing whoever was here is long gone.
Nothing upstairs in Jax’s room looks disturbed, so we head back down to the living room and make a plan.
“Take all the kids, including Jax, back to my place. I’m going to stay here and wait with Poppy while she calls the cops. The kids don’t need to be here for that.”
Savage nods. “What the fuck is this?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Whoever did this is dead,” I tell him through gritted teeth. “Put the word out. If this is some random break-in, a junkie or a neighborhood thug, I want a name by morning.”
He nods. “I know what to do.”
We head outside and motion for Shadow to come out and talk to us. I send him back to the compound in Savage’s truck and have him leave Poppy’s for me to drive later. Then I go around to the passenger side.
Poppy reaches for my arm, her arms wide and her lips parted. “What happened?” she asks quietly. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s all clear in there, but you’re going to need a cleanup crew,” I say loudly for the kids’ benefit. “Kids, you want to have Jax and Poppy for a sleepover till we can get their place fixed up?”
Poppy looks furious, terrified, confused. Every emotion races across her face, but she doesn’t say anything. Just looks at me, her eyes filled with fear.
I take her hand. “Come on, let me show you what’s up, and we’ll make a few calls while Savage gets the kids settled.”
I take her hand and help her out of the truck, closing the door behind her so the kids can’t hear. “Poppy, someone ransacked the shit out of your house,” I say, holding both her hands in mine.
“What?” she looks toward the house, but I keep her in place.
“We need to call the cops. You’re not going to be able to stay here. I’m going to have Savage get the kids to my place, and you can all crash with me for the night.”
