Neither moved, both stood as still as statues apart from their chests heaving as they breathed in shallow depths. She wanted to say more, but the words clogged up somewhere behind her teeth.
“How have you been?” he asked firmly, his tone soft but with an undercurrent of sadness.
“Good,” she lied, forcing a smile she hoped didn’t read as constipated. “How about you?”
He hesitated, and she found herself eagerly awaiting the words that he was about to say.
“I wanted to?—”
“Tables ready,” Liam’s voice boomed from the bar area.
The moment Liam made the announcement, the hum of the restaurant seemed to intensify, the scent of smoky woodfire, seared beef, and fresh bread filled her nostrils and the overhead light illuminated the space as if every sense rushed back to her at once.
It jolted Poppy and AJ out of their statue-still standoff, but neither seemed quite ready to break the invisible string that had been tying them together. They continued to stare at one another. From the look in his eyes, she thought he might ask her to go somewhere to talk so he could finish his thought and tellher what he wanted. She was hoping, praying that he would. But he didn’t.
His hand dropped to his side before he extended his arm in a silent after-you gesture. She inhaled a shaky breath and walked a half step ahead and to the right of him. The left side of her body heated from the energy radiating between them. It was so strong she was surprised it wasn’t visible to the naked eye.
The dinner was being held in a private room. The table stretched the length of it and held a dozen centerpieces. Poppy was seated with AJ to her left, Phoebe to her right, and Yaya and Frank across from her. There were thirty-five people at the table and almost as many conversations, so it wasn’t awkward or noticeable that neither she nor AJ was speaking.
There was so much she wanted to say, to ask him, but not in front of the nosiest people in the world, aka, her sisters.
The salad course was uneventful, unless you counted several arm and leg brushes, which she did. Her body tingled long after the innocent touches occurred. Just sitting close to AJ had her entire nervous system on high alert. Her hormones were clocked in and working overtime.
“So how are things going with Daddy Warbucks?” Phoebe had adopted the nickname for Deacon because she found out through Roger that he was rich. Apparently, they knew each other because Roger is in tech as well.
“Stop,” Poppy said quietly through clenched teeth, hoping not to draw more attention to the situation.
“I’m serious, how are things?” her sister asked sincerely as she popped a large bite of steak into her mouth.
“Good, yeah, they’re fine, good.”
“What is good?” Yaya called across the table. “You talk about man you live with?”
Beside her, she felt AJ tense up. She knew it wasn’t about being jealous, since he didn’t get jealous. Maybe he just didn’t want his grandma screaming across the table.
“I don’t live with him,” Poppy quickly corrected. “I live in the ADU.”
“But he is boss, yes?” Yaya asked for clarification.
“I, um, I’m his nanny, so I guess he is, yes.”
Poppy felt strange being in the hot seat as she sat next to AJ and talked about her life. Not that he’d asked her, but still.
“And how is school? You get A’s?” Yaya wagged her finger.
“It’s not exactly typical classes like that, but I’m doing okay.”
“What are you going back to school for, young lady?” Mr. Santino asked.
“Occupational therapy,” Poppy explained.
“Good for you.” He nodded, giving her the Arthur Santino seal of approval.
She and Mr. Santino had bonded when he was admitted to the ER after being shot while protecting a neighbor from an abusive ex. He’d given Poppy a bad time when she had to take him in for X-rays, but she’d handled him like she did every patient, with kindness, listening, and treating them as if their complaints were valid, because they were. She’d somehow earned his respect, which she had a sneaking suspicion he didn’t hand out readily, and she felt a special bond with him.
“You!” Yaya pointed her attention to AJ. Literally. She pointed her finger at him. “What about you?”
“I’m not going to school,” he replied, and Poppy couldn’t help but smile.
