He’d only ever watched reality TV when women he’d dated had it on, and he’d hated every second of it. But he’d happily sit and watch it with Poppy. Especially if it brought back the light in her eye, which it just had.
The screen filled with a group of women at a dinner table, two of them were screaming at one another, and it kept cutting back to one-on-one interviews, shot in a different location, perhaps on a different day because the women were wearing different clothes, where each of the women in attendance was giving their opinion on who was right and who was wrong in the argument.
“Thank you,” Poppy quietly stated as she stared ahead at the TV.
“For what?”
“For not telling me everything is going to be okay. I hate it when people say that.”
AJ didn’t know if things were going to be okay, so he would never make that promise to her. His eyes dropped to the sonogram of the baby on the coffee table. Their baby. His hand draped over the armrest, and his middle finger tapped his palm. He didn’t want her to see him stimming.
He wasn’t sure if the anxiety flooding through him was from the concept of having a child, the reality of being a father, the possibility of losing the baby before any of that came to fruition,or all of the above. What he did know was that for the next seven months, if it was up to him, Poppy was not going to be out of his sight.
Whatever happened, they were in this together. He hoped that’s what she wanted too, if not, there might be a lot of camping out in his future.
24
Poppy attemptedto ease herself off the couch in one fluid, dignified motion, but when her right leg got tangled in the blanket she'd been cocooned in. She barely managed to untangle it before AJ, who’d been standing with his back to her at the fridge pulling out ingredients for the omelet he was about to whip up, appeared at her side as if he had special Poppy motion-detector spidey-senses or eyes in the back of his head.
“What do you need?” he asked, tone neutral, yet brimming with an edge of anticipation that said he was ready, willing, and able to carry her across the threshold of any minor inconvenience.
“Idon’tneed you to wait on me. I can get my own water.”
He didn’t dignify her comment with a response. He’d vanished and returned before she could negotiate her way upright, with a cold glass of water in hand, condensation already collecting on the outside.
“Thank you.” She accepted the chilled glass of H2O, and he returned to gathering ingredients.
She told herself that she was watchingSalt Lake City Housewives, but her eyes kept drifting to AJ as he pulled alarge silver bowl and wooden chopping block. She couldn’t tear her eyes away as he rinsed and chopped spinach, bell peppers, tomatoes, and mushrooms. The chiseled lines of muscle on his forearms, the speed and accuracy of his chops and his large hands masterfully handling the delicate eggs.
It was Monday at ten a.m. She’d spent all day yesterday resting, studying, lounging, and being waited on hand and foot. AJ only left her side long enough to go next door to get clothes and groceries, during which time he made her promise she would not move off the couch. He was back in under five minutes with two bags, one filled with food and one with clothes. She still wasn’t sure how he’d done that so quickly.
He’d taken a shower with the door open so he could hear if she needed him. She’d tried not to look, but she was only human. He’d fixed her breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They watched trash reality TV shows, talked, and just hung out.
There’d been no mention of the baby, other than him asking how she was feeling in a tone that made it clear he was not talking about her head. She appreciated him giving her the space and time to digest what was going on.
For as long as she could remember, she’d taken for granted the fact that this news would fulfill her biggest dream, and she would finally feel complete. That this time in her life would be the happiest she’d ever been. Life had thrown her a curveball. It was naive of her, she could see that now, but she never even considered the possibility of a high-risk pregnancy. That development blindsided her. It made her want to retract into her emotional turtle shell and stay there. That way if the worst happened and things didn’t go to plan, she could deal with her grief privately and move on.
Life was easier that way. She wouldn’t have people around ‘supporting her’ when they had families and children and no clue as to the depths of her pain. She wouldn’t have to bite her tonguewhen people gave her empty platitudes that made her want to punch them in the face. And she wouldn’t have to see that look of pity on their faces, the same one she saw on teachers and other parents at school when there were recitals, plays, or any activity that included parent participation, and she was the kid who had no one show up. She could just deal with it on her own, like she always had…if the worst happened. Which she hoped it didn’t.
But first she needed to deal with her head injury.
Luckily, she had Mondays off because Deacon started every week taking and picking up Tabitha from school, that way, no matter how busy the rest of the week got, he made sure at least once a week he did drop-off and pickup, so technically there was nothing she had to do today, but she still felt odd not doing anything.
Well, she was doing something. Poppy was doing her absolute best not to fall madly in love with AJ, but every second she spent with him was causing the protective shell around her heart to crack like the eggs he’d just cracked one-handed, which was ridiculously hot. She’d seen men cook before, but like everything with AJ, this was different. He dominated the kitchen. He owned it. Every time she looked at him, her lady parts said, “Yes, Chef.”
He dropped a dollop of butter onto a hot skillet, held the handle, and with the flick of his wrist coated the entire surface.
“I know you haven’t asked for my advice on your next career, but if you ever wanted to start an OnlyFans where all you did was cook, you would be a multi-millionaire,” she suggested to AJ.
“I don’t think taking off my clothes for money is really my thing.”
“Who said anything about taking off your clothes? I’d pay good money just to watch this. You cooking fully dressed. All day. Every day. And I know I’m not the only one.” She wasn’t joking. Not really. She knew he would never do it, but he wouldbe an internet sensation. If there was real estate porn, there had to be cooking porn.
AJ’s eyes lifted to hers, and she saw a faint shade of blush on his cheeks, and it gave her a rush of adrenaline. She made AJ Costas blush. She wasn’t sure why that made her so happy, maybe because in bed, he made her blush so much.
“You can have me for free.” His voice was deep and raw and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. “All day. Every day.”
Now it was her turn to blush. Not blush because she was embarrassed but because she was flushed from her heart rate speeding up. Did he mean that? Was that his way of saying that he planned on sticking around? Was it because she was pregnant? He was a good man, the best man Liam knew. He would step up and do the right thing. She didn’t want someone to be with her out of obligation.
