Oh, Molly. Mine wasn’t the only troubled heart in this kitchen.
When her shoulders started to shake, I abandoned my crust and went to her side, wrapping her in another hug. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded and swiped away the tears. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t cry.”
“You can always cry, especially on me.” I’d cried on her shoulder more times than I could count. “And it’s not only your fault. You both made mistakes.”
Molly shook her head. “No. This is on me.”
“But—”
“I cheated on him, Poppy.” I cringed as she stressed that ugly word again. “End of story. End of marriage.”
End of discussion.
She stepped out of my embrace, drying her face as she went back to her chopping and I went back to the piecrust. We worked in silence for an hour, both deep in our own heads, until finally Molly spoke up.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever love anyone other than Finn. Maybe you’ll never love anyone other than Jamie. But will you promise me something? I don’t want us both to live our lives with broken hearts. If someone new comes along—if he already has—promise you won’t let fear keep you from trying again.”
I crossed my heart. “Yes, I promise.”
A few days after Cole had offered to help me with Jamie’s birthday list, I was at Lindley Park with my phone angled up to my face as I attempted to take a selfie.
“What are you doing?” Cole asked.
I dropped my phone, surprised to see Cole standing a few feet away. Damn it. I’d hoped to have a few minutes alone to take my daily picture.
“Um, nothing. Just taking a selfie.” Or twelve.
He grinned. “Pictures usually look better when you smile.”
“I hate selfies.” I grimaced. “My nose is too big for selfies.”
“What? You do not have a big nose.”
“I have nearly two hundred pictures proving you wrong.” I’d never thought my nose was big until I’d started this selfie ritual. Now I was finding props—a book, a coffee mug, my hand—to cover it for my daily picture.
“Give me that.” Cole snatched the phone from my hand. “Now sit on that bench and smile.”
I slumped on the metal seat, scrunching up my nose to give him an exaggerated toothy grin.
He dropped his arms and frowned. “I’ve seen mug shots better than that.”
I laughed, and just as I did, he snapped a picture. “There. Was that so hard?”
I pushed off the bench and walked to his side, peering around his arms at the picture. “Not bad, Detective. Not bad at all.”
“Picture a day for a year?” he guessed.
“Yep,” I said, popping the p. “There were a couple of days where I almost forgot at the beginning but now it’s habit.”
My first picture had been on Jamie’s birthday. I’d made his favorite chocolate cake and taken a picture with all his candles. Since then, I’d tried to take my selfies without tears and puffy eyes.
Today’s picture would be my first nonselfie to add to the stack.
“Thanks for meeting me today.” Since the restaurant closed after lunch on Sundays, I’d texted Cole and asked if he’d meet me at the park so we could make a plan to tackle some of the bigger items on the birthday list.
“Glad to. Do you want to hang out here or walk around?”
“A walk sounds good.” I swung out my arm. “Lead the way.”
Cole brushed past me and I caught a whiff of his natural scent mixed with traces of Irish Spring. My big nose acted on its own and followed that smell, sucking in so much air through my nostrils that they whizzed. To an onlooker, I probably looked ridiculous, following Cole’s movements with my nose, but he smelled so good, so different, I needed just one more breath.
“Allergies?” Cole asked over his shoulder.
My hand flew to my face, rubbing my nose quickly as I lied. “No, uh, just an itch.”
Smooth, Poppy. Real smooth.
I uncovered my nose and jogged to Cole’s side, walking as close to the edge of the path as possible, hoping the distance would keep me from catching another intoxicating whiff.
“I can’t remember the last time I walked through a park,” Cole said as I fell in step with him. “College maybe.”
“Did you go to MSU?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I got my bachelor’s before going to the academy.”
“We must have been there about the same time then. How old are you?”
“Thirty-one. You?”
“Twenty-nine. I wonder if we ever passed each other in a hallway.”
He shook his head. “Doubtful.”
“Were you not on campus much or something?”
“No.” He looked over at me and smiled. “Doubtful because I would have remembered seeing you around.”
Maybe it was the bright afternoon sunlight—or maybe it was because I was staring at his mouth—but for the first time, I noticed Cole had two small dimples when he smiled. And damn if they didn’t make his smile just that much sexier.
Just when I thought I had the breath-hitching thing under control, he produced dimples.
“It sure is hot today.” I fanned my face, hoping he’d think my shortness of breath and flushed cheeks were from the weather.
Cole just chuckled. “Sure is.”
We walked quietly for a few minutes, and with each step, I relaxed more and more in Cole’s company. It was always like that. I’d need five to ten minutes just to calm my racing heart—to settle down and breathe easy again. Which is why I loved that Cole never rushed us into conversation. He set the perfect pace where I was concerned. Not too slow. Not too fast.
So we took our time, walking on the path through the park, enjoying the summer afternoon.
It really was hot today, the July sun shining high in the cloudless blue sky, and I was glad I’d changed into a pair of cut-off shorts and a green tank before I’d left the restaurant. My rubber flip-flops crunched along the gravel path that wound between the trees. Even Cole was in flip-flops; the tan canvas straps looked so small on his big feet.
Today was the
