Poppy glances around the dining room, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She’s nervous. I know, because she has the same expression on her face that she did after my event. When she thought I was going to kiss her.
The kiss I’m still determined to do just right.
I’ve never found myself wanting to make a kiss perfect for a woman. I mean, I know what I’m doing, and I get all the validation I need. I’m agreatkisser. But there’s a different kind of pressure on my shoulders whenever I think about kissing Poppy.
She’s new to this, all of it. And she’s decided to go zero to 100 in under two weeks. From kissing me for the first time, to marrying me in one fell swoop.
“Have some wine,” I tell her. “It’ll take the edge off.”
“Not mine,” she says. “I got the non-alcoholic wine. Alcohol triggers my arthritis flares. I paid for the mulled wine I had at Friendsmas for days. So, I have to do this thing stone-cold sober.”
Right.
I nod.I think I knew that about Poppy, that she doesn’t tend to drink, and I silently scold myself for not remembering.
She dips her head and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, this is just so… I don’t know. I’m out of my element. I feel weird.”
A smirk tugging the corner of my mouth upward. “You don’t look weird.”
She flashes me a withering glare across the table. Still, I think the bad joke eased some of the tension. She doesn’tlook weird, though. She looks beautiful. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off her all night.
The floor length black gown that Brooke picked out for her suits her perfectly. It shimmers and sparkles with a faint glittery thread woven through the fabric, and the deep v cut accentuates her small waist.
Where her bob is normally swept up in a messy half-up bun, tonight she’s wearing it sleek, curled only at the ends so they flick out around the corner of her jaw. Though the wispy tendrils of bangs still frame her face.
I know Brooke picked out her jewelry too, she went over everything at the house earlier. How we should both be dressed, what we both need to say, how we need to act. It’s all been carefully scripted and planned. But when I catch the gold earrings hanging from Poppy’s ears now, they aren’t the same ones I saw sitting on the counter.
These ones are delicate and gold, and I can’t quite tell from here, but they look like… cats. Cats curled around balls of yarn. They’re very her, very cute, and my heart clenches when I spot them.
I survey the restaurant again and watch as a waiter leads a couple to their table. It gives me an idea to take Poppy’s mind off the fact that we have a very high stakes task once our dinner plates are cleared.
“Let’s play a game,” I say. “Do you think they’re on a date?” I tilt my head to the side, indicating which direction for Poppy to look.
She glances quickly, a smile playing on her lips. Thankfully, she doesn’t outright stare, she only looks long enough to make a snap judgement.
“No way, that guy is old enough to be her dad,” Poppy giggles, covering her mouth with her dainty hand.
“That doesn’t stop people,” I point out. “Some people are into age gaps.”
From the corner of my eye, I spot the man reach across the table, the sleeve of his suit rising to show off a gold Rolex on his wrist. The woman reaches across too, places her hand in his, and he strokes his thumb across the backs of her knuckles.
“Doesn’t seem like something a dad and daughter would do,” I add.
Poppy looks over again.
“I guess I win.”
Poppy doesn’t react to that, she’s too focused on the couple. They have no idea we’re watching them, entranced in their own heart-eyed stare down. Her gaze snaps away when I draw her attention to another couple, continuing our game.
“What about them?” I point discreetly to a young couple sitting by the window. This couple looks to be closer in age, joy radiating off both their faces as they chat across the table.
“They’re cute,” she answers. “Definitely on a date.”
“I think it’s their first one,” I say in agreement.
“How can you tell?” Poppy asks, tilting her head.
“Well, look at how he’s complimented her, and she just blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. Now, she’s rested her elbow on the table, and he’s done the same. It’s mirroring. It’s a classic move when you’re into someone, to show them that you’re interested.”
