Chapter Six
Darius had rushed through his shower. Usually, he spent as long as he could in the shower, thinking, planning. Today, with Poppy sitting in his apartment, he couldn’t get out fast enough. Habit had him lathering up his hair even though he’d washed it that morning. Then, he nearly forgot to rinse the shampoo from his hair in his haste to get back to her side. She had him way off kilter and she hadn’t done anything except be herself. He felt like a nervous schoolboy.
He watched Poppy looking around his suite and out the window. “So, what do you think of the place?” he asked.
“It’s…” she paused. “Very masculine?” She looked at him with one eyebrow lifted and a half grin on her face.
“It’s brutal. But, for now, it’s all I need. I don’t spend much time here. I’m either at the restaurant, at Mom’s, or with you. I’ll find a better place and some furniture, eventually.”
“If it meets your needs, there no sense rushing things. I like that you’ve decorated.”
Her words struck a soft place he didn’t realize he had. He didn’t mind it here, he liked his battered couch, it was great for reading on. Recently, he started to fret over what others thought, worrying people might get stuck on memories of who he used to be. He’d matured from the brazen, daring youth who pretended not to care about anything when really, all he wanted was acceptance. Of course, he hadn’t realized that's who he was until he’d left home and joined the military. Serving his country had given him more than one wakeup call.
“It’s okay to be who you are,” she said, as if plucking his thoughts from his mind. She was adept at reading people and it was rather unnerving.
She turned toward him, and put her hand on his shoulder. Its warmth chased away the turbulent memories of his youth. He wanted to lean into her touch, to roll over like a puppy, expose his soft underside and beg for more.
Whoa!
He put a reign on those thoughts. He couldn’t deny he wanted to see where a relationship with Poppy would go. Emotionally and physically. Her sweetness drew him in. Kind though she was, he sensed she was keeping her distance, probably afraid he’d abandon her again. The thought hurt, but he deserved every bit of acrimony she sent his way.
“I know who I am.” He backed away from her enticing touch.
“Do you?” Her words stabbed at his conscience. “It’s tough when you’ve changed, and people only see what you were, not what you’ve become. Working with you this week has shown me a different side of you. You’re not just a rebel chafing at restrictions. You’ve matured. You’re reliable, fun, friendly. The old Darius is still there, but he’s morphed into—” her nose wrinkled thoughtfully. “Into someone better. Someone worth knowing.”
Her words raced through him, shocking him with their accuracy. He wasn’t the old Darius. He was more, and less. Less abrasive. Gentler. More considerate. Less balls to the wall, take no crap, and more thoughtful. She’d nailed it right on the head. How had she read him so clearly after only a few days together?
“Thanks,” he mumbled, the words no less sincere for their quiet tone. “I see differences in you too. Not just physical ones. You’re still the kind hearted girl everyone wanted to be like, even while they teased you. You’ve gained an elegance you didn’t have before. You still wear your heart on your sleeve, and unless I’m reading you totally wrong, you’re even more giving now. I know you’ve looked past who I was and given me a chance to redeem myself. One that I probably don’t deserve.”
She stared at him, wide eyed, a blush rushing to her face. She pivoted away to stare out the window again. Even her ears went pink.
“That was a compliment you know.” Her discomfort made him want to squirm. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her. She didn’t look at him, she just shrugged. “Tell you what. I’ll just shut up now and go finish cooking.”
“Thank you.”
He wondered if she meant the thank you for the compliment, the beverage, or for leaving her be. Either way, he’d take it. He had an overwhelming urge to take care of her. In the kitchen, he whipped up some grilled bacon and cheese sandwiches. He put them on plates with some chopped vegetables and potato chips. Hardly the gourmet fare he preferred to create, but fast and filling. After covering a cookie sheet with a tea towel, he put the plates, veggie dip, and two glasses of water on it.
“Here we go.” He set the laden tray on the coffee table in front of the couch.
She turned from the window with a soft smile. “Thank you, I’m hungry.”
He waited until she was seated, pressed into the far end of the couch, before he sat at the opposite end, giving her plenty of space. He had made her uncomfortable, it showed in her sudden wariness. He passed her a plate. “Thanks for taking me sledding. Feeling like a kid really revitalized me. It was just what I needed.”
“You know what,” she said, taking the plate he handed her. “It did. I haven’t taken a day off in months. Probably at least a year. As soon as this contest is over, I’m going to start taking scheduled days off. After I hire and train another employee.” She grinned at him. “Today taught me I need to relax. I’ll come back stronger tomorrow.”
“We both will.”
They shared quiet conversation, taking in general about running a small business and cooking. He was surprised to learn she didn’t think she was much of a chef.
“Come on. Cooking isn’t any harder than baking,” he objected as he gathered their empty dishes.
“You wouldn’t think so, but if I try anything fancy, it runs amuck in no time. It took twenty-seven tries to perfect the sausage patties for my sandwiches. Don’t even ask me about the time I ruined a giant prime rib roast. Tragic.”
He gasped and clutched his chest. “Tell me you’re lying. Not prime rib.” He shook his head sadly. “The shame. The horror.”
“Okay, it wasn’t that bad. Edible. Just borderline well done and not nearly as tender as it should be. But bad enough I won’t be trying to cook another any time soon. At least the gravy was good. I do make excellent gravy, but even it couldn’t save that beef.”
“Well done beef is a tragedy.” He bowed his head. “A moment of silence for our departed.” He watched her from the corner of his eye. She looked startled, smirked and burst into laughter.
Poppy’s laughter was music to his ears and highly infectious. He joined in, loving how her light tones mingled harmoniously with his deeper chortle. Beautiful.
Almost as beautiful as Poppy herself.
