She places her hands on top of mine, and I hold her a little tighter, feeling like I never want to let her go. She fits perfectly against me, like she was made especially for me.
“Yes. This poppy field has been here for eons. As a little girl, I used to love running into it and rolling around. When friends came over, we’d play hide and seek in there, and I was always picking the poppies and decorating my bedroom with them. Nana gave me the name, and it stuck.” Her back rumbles against my chest as she laughs. “Hads spent a year calling me Opium Poppy after a local farmer was caught growing a poppy field and manufacturing opium from it for sale. She tried to convince Nana to permanently change my nickname, but she was having none of it.” Amusement and nostalgia underscore her tone. “Those were fun times.”
“It seems like you had a great childhood.”
“I did. Mom and I lived here for the first few years of my life before she bought the house we currently live in. Even after we moved, I still spent time here most every day. This is as much my home as our house is.”
“What about your grandpa? You never mention him.”
“He ran off with Nana’s best friend when Mom was five, and he didn’t come back. They never divorced, and she was notified twelve years ago when he died. We don’t talk about him, and I never think of him. Hard to think of someone you never knew.”
“I know I have only just met her, but your nana is an amazing woman. How anyone could desert her, and their own flesh and blood, makes no sense to me.”
“Same here.” She shivers, and I quickly shuck out of my hoodie, ignoring her complaining as I put it on her.
“Come on. It’s getting colder.” We pick up our pace, and it doesn’t take long to spot the barn. Even in the dark, and from this distance, I can see the devastation wrought on the large structure.
“Fuck. It’s way worse than I imagined.” Unhappiness laces her tone as we approach the damaged barn. A giant-sized gaping hole in the roof is admitting the elements, and when we open the door, it’s clear everything inside will have to be gutted and replaced.
Bits of the roof and weather-strewn debris cover the interior floor. Chairs, buckets, garden accessories, and other supplies are scattered around the place. Puddles of water, from recent rainfall, are dotted all over the ground ensuring there is no recovering anything inside. A large plastic sheet hangs down from one side of the hole in the roof, and it’s obvious whoever tried to tack it up didn’t do a good enough job.
It's a mess, and Stevie is right to be concerned.
“This is so bad,” she says in a low voice, clinging to my hand.
“Yeah, it’s not good.”
“I don’t know how we fix this, but I’m going to find a way.” Steely determination resonates in her previously dejected tone as an idea forms in my mind. “Nana is not losing her family business.” She looks up at me with a face steeped in determination. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
ChapterEighteen
Stevie
Ipush through the crowded cafeteria with my heart pounding in my chest, my eyes darting everywhere, searching for the man I came to find. Ignoring the curious stares of the students I pass, I pick up speed when I spot Garrick in the corner of the large room, leaning against the wall as he talks with a short stocky guy with a mass of jet-black hair. Behind him, seated at a table, are Will, Noah, Ellen, and two other guys I don’t know.
Butterflies careen around my chest, and my heart is so full it feels like it might burst. Tears prick my eyes as I race toward him, wondering how I could have ever considered rejecting this man.
Garrick Allen is a god among men, and I am so fucking lucky I caught and held his attention.
A smile ghosts over his mouth when he spots me approaching, and I lose all self-consciousness and self-control as I full-on run toward him, uncaring what anyone thinks. His brows climb to his hairline when I throw myself at him, snaking my arms around his neck and yanking his head down to mine as I smash my lips to his.
Garrick doesn’t disappoint, winding his strong arms around my back and holding me close as I kiss him. Our surroundings disappear, and it’s only the two of us in our own little bubble. Angling my head, I trace my tongue along the seam of his lips, demanding entry. His lips willingly part to welcome me, and we both groan as my tongue slides into his mouth and tangles with his. Garrick takes control. Tightening his hold on me and deepening our kiss, he meets every stroke of my tongue with a caress of his own, and his full velvety-soft lips worship my mouth in a way that exceeds my every fantasy.
Butterflies are running riot in my chest and blood is pumping through my veins as liquid lust combusts in my lower belly, and an almost painful ache throbs between my legs. Garrick keeps me close, kissing me passionately like he never thought he’d get to do it. His hard length presses into my stomach, and knowing he wants me as much as I want him thrills me. My fingers thread through his gorgeous hair as we kiss, and I pour everything I’m feeling into every sweep of my tongue and every brush of my lips.
Kissing Garrick is everything I dreamed of and more.
I never want to stop, but reality comes crashing back when a chorus of whoops, hollers, and calls of “get a room” break the bubble we’re in, and I’m instantly aware that I’m devouring his mouth in full view of a packed cafeteria.
I don’t really care. The moment called for this, but I’m not about to give them more of a show.
Garrick must reach the same conclusion at the same time I do because we both pull back in sync, keeping a hold of one another as we break our kiss. He rests his brow against mine. “Fuck, Stevie.” His warm breath fans over my face like magical mist, and I kiss him again, because now I know what he tastes like, I don’t think I can stop. “If we were anywhere but this cafeteria,” he growls over my lips, leaving the rest of the statement unsaid because we both understand what he means.
“I know.” My voice comes out all raspy and seductive. Clasping his face in my hands, I force him to look at me. Our eyes meet, and mine fill with fresh tears. “Thank you.” A single tear trickles out of the corner of my eye and runs down my face. “First my car, and now this.” Garrick called in a favor with a friend, and by the time we returned to Eugene on Sunday, my CR-V was back in full working order.
This guy has stomped all over the shields I usually keep around my heart and laid siege to it—in the best possible way.
“It’s not a big deal,” he says, softly wiping the dampness from my cheek.
