“Yes,” Poppy hissed.
What the hell? I was definitely missing something here, but before I could ask, Poppy threw her hands in the air and stormed back into the kitchen as Molly burst into laughter.
When she’d caught her breath, Molly wiped tears from the corners of her eyes and leaned a hip against the counter. “She has to say yes to everything today, and I’m taking advantage because it’s for her own good.”
“Ah.” I nodded. “Let me guess. Another birthday list item?”
Molly straightened. “She told you about the list?”
“Yeah. The last time I was here.” Shit. “Should I have kept that a secret?”
“No, but it is interesting.” Molly studied me for a long moment, then smiled. “I like you, Cole. Poppy does too, even if she won’t admit it. Just go easy, my friend. Go easy.”
“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
She shrugged. “Takes too long.”
“Agreed.” I smiled, then slid off my stool and walked over to an empty table along the far wall.
The restaurant was busy tonight but not packed. Everyone seated had already gotten their meals so I sat and people-watched until Poppy came out of the kitchen with a tray of food and waters. She set down two steaming jelly jars filled with macaroni and cheese.
I inhaled the cheesy smell. “This smells great.”
“Thanks.” She handed me an unshaken jar of salad. “Shake that up and I’ll be right back.”
I did as I was told, shaking as she went behind the counter for plates and silverware. She came back and set the table, splitting the salad between us.
“I’ll share the salad but you better not take any of my pie. I’ve been promised dessert and I refuse to share.”
She giggled and did a mock salute. “Understood, Detective.”
We ate quietly, each of us diving into our salad and pasta. The gentle hum of other conversations filled the room until Poppy broke the silence. “Can I ask you something?”
I nodded as I swallowed my bite of macaroni. “Shoot.”
She waited a second before speaking softly. “Why did you stay that night? You sat with me for hours, even after my brother arrived.”
I blinked, surprised by the serious question, then set down my fork and leaned in closer. “I stayed because I didn’t want you to be alone. Your brother was on the phone and dealing with stuff. I just . . . I didn’t want you to be by yourself on that couch.”
She looked down at her plate, poking at her salad. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I was just doing my job.”
It was more than that, but my real motives were damn hard to explain. Delivering the news of James Maysen’s death had been fucking extreme, something I’d never done before. At the time, I’d chalked up my late-night vigil to the difficult situation. But now—now that I’d been around her again—I knew it wasn’t just the circumstances that had made me stay.
It was Poppy.
I hadn’t been able to leave her side until I’d known she was in good hands. So I’d sat by her side until she’d fallen asleep on the couch and her brother had taken my place.
“What made you ask?”
She shrugged and speared a bite of lettuce. “Just curious.”
She may as well have said, “End of discussion.” Not that I would have pressed anyway. I couldn’t imagine how hard it would be for her to think about that night, let alone talk about it. And with a restaurant full of people, tonight wasn’t the time for a recap.
If she ever wanted to talk about that night, I’d be all ears. If she never wanted to speak of it again, that was fine too.
“I hear you’re saying yes to everything today?” I chased a bite of macaroni with some water.
She nodded, smiling again as she chewed.
“A guy could take advantage of that.”
Her chewing stopped and her blue eyes snapped to mine.
“Me, for example. I could use this to get exactly what I want.”
I didn’t miss the way her eyes flared, and damn, it was sexy. If things were farther along—if this were a year from now and we were in a different place—I could have used this game to have her moaning yes all night long. But we weren’t there, and I wasn’t a complete asshole.
But I did love to tease.
“Poppy,” I whispered, leaning closer.
Her breaths were shallow as she waited.
“Will you bring me both the mixed berry and the apple pie?”
She blinked twice, then a hand flew over her mouth—still full of salad—covering it as she laughed. “Yes.”
I grinned, sitting back in my chair and digging into my food. “Maybe you can tell me more about this list too? It seems like every time I see you you’re on to something new.”
Her hand fell. “You really want to know?”
“I really want to know.”
Cole’s interest in Jamie’s birthday list surprised me. No one but me had ever gotten excited about the list since Jamie had died, but Cole was genuinely curious. And eager, maybe? Whatever it was, I liked the sparkle it added to his eyes.
“Okay, um . . .” The best way for me to explain everything on the list was just to hand over the journal, except no one but me and Jamie had ever touched it before. Would it be strange to let Cole read it? Would that have bothered Jamie? I smiled to myself. No. Jamie had been so proud of his list, he’d have plastered it on a billboard.
“Be right back.” I held up a finger to Cole, then got up from the table and walked to the register. Leaning over the counter, I dug through my purse, which I’d stashed underneath the register. When my fingers brushed leather, I pulled out Jamie’s journal, stroking the cover once before standing back up.
The second I turned back to our table, I found Cole’s gaze locked on the place where my ass had just been. His eyes were darker, the spark behind them now a blaze. He didn’t even try
