Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
This is the hand we’ve been dealt. We’re only left with the present day.
She can’t remember. I can’t forget.
Now, knowing her love is buried just beneath the surface of her subconscious, I can’t give up. I need to win her heart all over again.
12
Poppy
“Why didn’t you tell me your name?” He’s standing where I left him. After sulking about this for the past ten minutes, I glare at him with a punctuated hip where my hand is planted.
Laird. His name is Laird. Why does it have to be so damn perfect for him. I hate that I like it so much!
“I just did.” Look at him sitting there so smugly, acting like an innocent bystander. Throwing his arms out is a nice touch. Real nice . . .
“Pfft.” Turning on my heels, I storm back to the bedroom, unsure of why this little piece of information has set me off. The smooth glide of my socks sends my hair into the air on the fast one-eighty. Contrary to what I believed, the added effects don’t make me feel better.
I tug the door back open and head down the hallway with a vengeance but stop just shy of the entry into the living room. “Why didn’t you just tell me yesterday when I asked? It’s like you purposely withheld it just to use it against me.”
“I wasn’t using it against you. I thought you knew me better than that. I was mad.”
“I don’t know you at all, Laird.” My words have him pulling back physically, his eyes disconnecting from mine with each breath we take.
His gaze lowers to his lap, making it hard to read him. “And hurt.”
I’m not made of stone. My heart hurts for him, and hearing him pained makes me ready to forgive him. What point am I trying to make anyway? Is it so important that I win this imaginary war? I lower my guard and ask, “Why were you mad?”
A thoughtful pause keeps him from rushing to answer. I give him the time and space he needs to share it with me. He looks up. “I was confronted with my past.”
“And hurt? Why were you hurt?”
He doesn’t hold me in suspense this time. He just says, “Because of the loss. Like you said, I cared very deeply.”
“And you loved them?” I shouldn’t have asked such a personal question of my boss, but he’s made this an open forum for us to share. I don’t take it back. I want to hear that this man cared so deeply that the loss caused him to lose himself as well. I need to know he would risk everything. I don’t know why. I just want him to be flawed like I am.
He’s not asking for forgiveness, but I’d give it to him if I knew how he felt.
“More than anything else.”
I smile, unable to help myself. It’s not just me being a romantic, which Marina has suggested. It’s connecting with this stoic man on such a human level. Breathing is easier, so I nod in reassurance. “I hope you find beauty in the aftermath. You deserve it, Laird.”
“You think there’s hope for a bastard like me?”
“There’s hope for you yet.” Although I could tick off a list just as long, I want him to know I’ve noticed what he’s done for me. “I mean, you didn’t leave me for the bears. You made sure I was safe last night by inviting me in. You even set out a mug for me this morning.” I give him a lackadaisical shrug. “You can’t be all bad if you’re so worried about others.”
“Not others,” he corrects, not loud and showy but thoughtful and just for me. “You give me too much credit.”
“Don’t let it go to your head, then.”
“That’s a deal but on one condition.”
I hope he doesn’t make me regret giving him all those compliments. “Which is?”
“Stay, Poppy.” I remain right where I am, my head still swimming in how he exposed so much of himself. His voice's dulcet tone and smooth sound make me willing to do anything. That and his scent. It’s not lost on me that he smells like the sex I’ve been dreaming about. “Please.”
And then he goes and says that. I don’t think he’s as bad as I first assessed. His manners indicate the opposite. Please always goes a long way with me. He’s a big guy, that dark hair. He has those blue eyes I stare into any chance I get. Like now. He’s hard to ignore.
I also still want to address the topic of that tattoo that matches mine. It’s not the right time after what we’ve already been through this morning, but it’s still on my mind.
Playing the offer off might not be the best strategy, but I’m not sure what to say. It was a great conversation, and the barriers between us were torn down, but in the end, does it matter when I’m going my own way and he’s going his? “It’s snowing outside.” I keep it light, not wanting to make it a big deal. “I’m not going anywhere. I mean, my car is literally broken down in a snowstorm.” The situation hits me in the funny bone, causing me to laugh. “It’s like we’re living in a rom-com.” I glance at him. “You know, if the heroine was drop-dead gorgeous, had the wittiest sense of humor, and had never been in an accident.”