After dinner, Jonesy is regaling everyone with some story from when he was competing back in the fucking eighteen hundreds or whenever it was. I’m not really listening. First of all, I’ve heard the story about his legendary hole in one on the most infamous par five in Northern Ireland at least six times. But mostly, I couldn’t concentrate to listen even if I wanted to; the way Poppy idly drags her nails up and down my forearm as it rests on the arm of my chair has caused my dick to be hard as stone for the last ten minutes.
I check the time on my watch, spearing a glance at Jonesy. Surely, it’s past his bedtime.
“Oh, y’all are just too stinkin’ cute!” Lori shrieks, interrupting her husband.
I glance sideways to see Poppy’s cheeks flush in the adorable way that they do when the attention is on her.
“Aren’t they cute, baby?”
“Eh?” Jonesy grunts, holding a hand around his ear.
Lori rolls her eyes with a muttered, “Lord, give me strength. Poppy and Brookes!” she shouts, pointing at us. “Aren’t they cute?”
“She is,” Jonesy huffs, offering me a wry once over. “Can’t say too much for this knucklehead.”
I say nothing, offering him a deadpan look in return.
“Did you get that acrylic cutter yet?” Lori asks, speaking to Poppy.
“Oh, no.” Poppy shakes her head. “Not yet.”
Lori smiles.
“Why?” Poppy asks, clearly confused, and same girl.
“Well,” Lori begins, shifting in her chair, squaring her shoulders, suddenly smug as hell, and I can’t wait for this. “I wasspeaking to June Bug yesterday…” She pauses for effect. “And she just so happened to tell me that she wants to stock the entire Pretty Poppy range right there in her boutique.” Lori slaps the table, beaming around the table at all of us.
Poppy gasps and turns to me, her eyes incredulously wide. “Are… are you serious?” She gapes at Lori. “My earrings? In her… high-end boutique?” She scoffs, stammering on a breath.
Lori nods, her smile turning watery. “Yes, baby.”
“Oh my God!” Poppy turns to me again, surprise, pride, and a little bit of panic written all over her face.
“Pops, that’s amazing!” I touch her shoulder, giving her a squeeze.
She’s on the verge of hyperventilating, and I can see her mind working overtime, trying to work through a million thoughts all at once, but she’s smiling. And I’m so damn proud of her.
“I have so much to do,” Poppy says on a rushed breath. “I’ve gotta order materials, the laser cutter, figure out wholesale… oh my God.”
I chuckle, smoothing my hand over her back. “Breathe, baby.”
“Baby!” Lori shrieks again, slapping the table another time. “Are you kiddin’ me? I can’t, y’all. This is too much swoon for one night.”
“Maybe you should leave?” I suggest casually while sending her an obvious look across the table.
With a wink, Lori stands, clicking her fingers at her husband. “Let’s go, baby.”
“Eh?” Jonesy grunts again.
Rolling her eyes, Lori opens her purse and retrieves a small medication bottle, popping out a blue pill. “Take this, and take me home,” she says, giving the pill to Jonesy and winking at him, as if we don’t know what she just handed over.
Jonesy pops the pill, downing it with a mouthful of the winehe and Lori brought with them, meeting my eyes and waggling his bushy eyebrows suggestively.
Bowing my head, I huff a laugh.
Lori and Poppy hug one another goodbye, Lori mentioning that June will be in touch. Jonesy lingers in his farewell embrace with Poppy for a little longer than most would deem necessary or acceptable, but I let it slide because the poor fucker’s eighty; who knows how much longer he’s got left.
I walk Lori and Jonesy out, seeing them to their Maserati. Of course, Lori takes our moment alone to interrogate me, spinning around once she shuts Jonesy’s door, gaping at me with huge eyes and an even huger smile. Here we fucking go.
