She eyes me, her brown eyes serious. “You the trouble?”
“I was adjacent to the trouble,” I say. “The trouble was mostly someone else.”
Mae nods then turns her attention to Gibb. “There was a stranger around here asking about who lives up at the big farm.”
My chest tightens. Is Matt still around?
Gibb dabs the tip of his finger into a blob of cream cheese frosting. “Oh yeah?”
“I told him the owner is a crazy goat farmer who has lived here forever.” Mae pushes away from the table. “And he’s got some crazy friends, so if you need help, you let me know, okay Gibby?”
Gibb stands, reaching over to hug Mae. “Thank you.”
She turns her attention to me. “You like that roll?”
I glance down at my plate. There’s barely a crumb left. “It was a religious experience.”
Mae beams. “Oh, I like that.” She winks at Gibb. “I like her.”
“I do too,” he says.
My heart flutters. How can he sit there, so calm, and utter something so devastating while licking frosting off his finger?
“You bring her by more than once in a blue moon, you hear me?” Mae waves before towards the door to greet a family with a newborn baby.
I smile as the mom lifts the corner of the carrier so Mae can peek in at the little face nuzzled against her chest. The man, I assume her husband, holds a little girl by the hand who is fairly bouncing on her heels, ponytail flying, as she talks to Mae.
I look back at Gibson, who is watching me intently, his arms folded across his chest. “What?” I ask.
“You fit here,” he says.
I look at the mismatched wooden tables, worn with age and at the exposed brick walls. Steam curls up from my coffee mug and through the huge windows I can see the mountain we just drove down. Finally, I look at Gibb, the man I didn’t know a week ago, but now I don’t want to think about a day when I’m not surprised by his kiss. I don’t want to leave Stevie and the others.
I don’t want to leave, but I don’t know how I can stay either.
9
Gibson
The drive back up the mountain is quiet. Poppy is tired and she’s leaned back in her seat looking out the window. I meant what I said about her fitting here. I wanted my solitude for a long time and I built the place that I needed. I thought it was the life I needed.
But having Poppy in my home, talking to her, smiling at her while she cuddles Stevie – hell, somehow letting her convince me to have Stevie in the house – she just fits. Maybe I didn’t need a place. Maybe I just needed a person.
When we pull in, tires crunching over the gravel, Poppy’s head turns to me, her soft smile making my chest ache. I stop the car and notice Stevie watching from the barn gate, which she’s somehow managed to maneuver herself against so that she can see the driveway. She shakes her head when I step out, ears flying, making her feelings about being left behind very clear.
"I get it," I say. “You missed her.” Just like I will when – if – she leaves. Stevie’s bleat has to be the equivalent of several cursewords, and it pushes the thought of Poppy going anywhere out of my head.
I go round to the passenger side and open the door.
"She definitely should have come," Poppy says, handing me her crutches.
"Absolutely not." I run them up to the porch, leaning them against the door before jogging back to her.
“Hey, I need those.”
I shake my head. “Nope, you’ve been on your feet for too long today. And your arms have to be sore from leaning on them too. You heard Dr. Brennan, you need rest.” I slide my arm under her, lifting her out of the seat and shutting the door with my hip. She cuddles into my chest, and her hand strokes the back of my neck. I really had no intention of doing anything other than watching a movie with her tonight, but when her warm breath caresses my neck, and I feel her lips against my skin, I swallow hard.
I take the steps to the porch without a second glance at Stevie and tap the code to the lock. Inside the cabin is warm after the freshness of the spring day and between that and Poppy’s hand caressing the sensitive skin of my neck, my body heats, arousal roaring awake inside me.