Poppy's Present (Poppy's Place) (2 page)

The messenger program dinged.

T:
You are the sexiest, most amazing woman in the whole fucking world. The guys are putting together a new female character. I told them if they wanted to make her truly remarkable, they’d give her auburn hair, six freckles on her nose, an apple bottom, and a little Texas twang.

Her heart melted. She loved her men so much. They adored and understood her on levels still growing. Even her blood relatives didn’t care enough to “get” her. Trevor, Cody, and Michael, each in his own way, strove to make her feel special.

P:
And?

T:
They went with big boobs and a sword. Obvious, sexist fuckers. I’ll be home a little later tomorrow because my flight was changed. Another fucker involved, if you can believe it.

Six years together and though he didn’t swear in front of the kids, he made up for it in text format.

P:
Bummer. I’ll be ready for you. I’m sleeping in your bed.

T:
Take off your panties, will ya?

She smirked, but tucked her orange bikinis under his pillow.

P:
Done.

T:
You are the best wife ever. I can’t wait to be home. Dream of me, okay?

The battery blinked, threatening shutdown. She quickly tapped out a response.

P:
Will do. Love you.

The screen blacked out after she hit “send.” She hated not having a final response from him, but put the tablet in its place. She’d charge it the next day, and even better than texting, Trevor would be home.

Chapter Three

The sound of little feet running down the hall woke Poppy before the early morning sunshine. She enjoyed waking up to light on her face, but as she peeled her eyes open, she realized there was only darkness—which meant she’d slept in Trevor’s room where his blackout curtains let him sleep anytime. And she wasn’t alone.

Cody stretched out on her left, Michael on her right. She wiggled up to sitting and looked down at her men. Exhaustion showed on both faces, the creases deeper on Michael’s face, but though seven years younger, Cody had plenty of wrinkles from squinting into the sun.

Rugged.
Even sleeping—Michael in a white t-shirt, Cody bare chested—both looked rough and tumble. She ran her fingers through Cody’s hair. He worked so hard on the ranch, but they were coming close to the months when he could relax a bit. When the twins started kindergarten, he’d have time to take them to school and help with homework. They’d all have more time. She should have known early summer would be a challenge. It always was.

She shifted her hand to Michael. He studied through the summer with hopes of finishing early and being able to work from home while the kids were still young. He’d get there. She leaned down and kissed his cheek.

His eyes flew open, the blue gaze piercing and alert.

“I’m sorry I let you go to bed alone.”

She leaned down and pecked his nose. “I knew better than to try to seduce you on your class connect night.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s my fault. I’m too busy. It’s not fair to you. I’m going to take the girls to the library so you can have the morning to yourself. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds very sweet. They’ll love it.”

Cody’s warm arm crept around her middle and tugged her away from Michael. “Morning.”

“Good morning, Baby Boy. I’m glad you didn’t stay on the bench all night.”

He chuckled, the rich sound emerging from deep in his chest. “It was close. Michael kicked my butt into gear just after midnight. When I didn’t find you in your room, I
figured you’d be here.”

“I’m a sucker for fresh sheets.”

He turned her in his arms until they were face to face. Michael massaged her back. She relaxed against Cody, his morning erection hard against her thigh. She shimmied her hips and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Hmmm, seems like all that rest did your body good.”

She kissed down the length of his neck, taking smacking bites of his prickly skin while letting her fingers drift down his chest toward his cock. Cody moaned and pushed another pillow under his head, propping himself higher. She peeked up with one eye, loving the playful glint of his expression.

Behind her, Michael rubbed her butt and slipped his hands between her thighs, reminding her she’d taken her panties off the night before. He petted her pussy, playing his fingers over her opening and tapping her clit. She arched her back, welcoming him for the more she hoped he’d take.

Cody’s grasp moved from her waist to her breasts, holding her in place a moment so she couldn’t continue her descent to his cock. He fondled each, flicking his fingertips over the nipples and squeezing almost too hard. She closed her eyes, savoring the contact and play she’d needed for too long. Michael’s warm lips nibbled on her backside. She cast a glance over her shoulder to find her lover’s eyes beaming her way.

“Mommy! Lola fell off the couch and hit her head!”

The muted announcement took the wind out of Poppy’s sails. She looked away from Michael to Cody. His sexy grin changed to a half smirk. “Why the hell did we think we could get away with this?”

“I’ll get them,” Michael said. “You two keep going.”

“Mommy! Dee bit me, and Lola’s head is gushing blood.”

Poppy patted Cody’s chest. “Sorry, Baby Boy. We’ll do this again soon.”

Cody lifted her to her feet and rolled to his side. “Damn right we will. Very soon. What are your Saturday plans?”

“Mine,” Michael said, pulling on pajama pants and hopping out the door.

She smiled at Cody. “Yep, already claimed.”

“And Trevor is back today, so that’s out,” Cody said. He grabbed a white t-shirt from
Trevor’s drawer. “Come Sunday night, we’re all going to rock your world.”

Poppy threw on a pair of Trevor’s boxers and followed Michael’s calming voice toward the living room. Sunday sounded nice, but it was still four days away. She’d be hopeful...but practical.

Chapter Four

After growing up in a house with too many rules and too little laughter, Poppy had thought she’d never grow tired of voices, and while she wasn’t necessarily tired of them, a little silence would go a long way. She strolled past where Lola played a board game with Grandpa Thomas, waving at her youngest who sported a small bruise above her eye, but no major damage from her tumble. She headed down to the basement where she’d left another batch of jam. Jam making hadn’t started as a fulltime job, but the success they had at SaraJean’s farmer’s market meant they went through a whole lot of fruit.

Poppy smiled at the picture Mary, Dee, and Da made as they curled ribbon. She paused and soaked it in. Mary was born to be a mother and grandmother—she’d claimed it from the first time Poppy met her, and every day her mother-in-law showed the infinite patience and kindness Poppy wished came easier. She didn’t think she was a bad mom, but Mary had a special gift.

“And here is your beautiful mama, come to collect the jars, I’m sure.” Mary grinned over the girls’ bowed heads. “How do they look? Dee and Da have been excellent helpers.”

Poppy stepped closer and examined the bright gingham cutouts on top of the shiny jars, all pulled together with a white ribbon and brown paper logo. “Excellent. Top notch. I see many summers of canning in your futures.”

“Grandma pays us.” Dee showed two holes of lost teeth with her grin. “We’ll have enough to go to the theme park soon. Airfare, though, that’s the killer.”

Poppy bit back a chuckle. The words came straight from Grandpa Thomas’ mouth, which Michel often echoed in his own ways. The two were the thriftiest in the family, but never skimped on fun. Mary patted each girl on her shoulder and slowly pushed to her feet. She rubbed her hands against her khaki capris and lifted one of the packed boxes.

“You girls finish up. Mom and I are going to start loading.”

Poppy hefted the second flat of jars, the weight familiar since she’d taken up canning the previous fall. “I know I say it every time, but I really feel this is a Cody sort of job.”

Her mother-in-law laughed. “I’m with you there, girl, but it seems those husbands of yours are always on the move. I remember those years too well sometimes. Three husbands—yet somehow I managed to be home alone with three little boys often. That’s been on my mind lately. You feel free to tell me no or to mind my own beeswax, but how would you feel if the grandpas and I took the girls on a little vacation?”

Mary held the basement door open. Poppy’s heart beat faster as she stepped into the summer sun and headed toward the garage. The mix of dread over being away from the girls, and excitement for them having fun warred in her mind even without details.

“Oh? Where are you thinking?”

“To a certain theme park where we may run into princesses and a mouse.” Mary walked beside her. “I waited. You guys took them last year. I know how some things are milestones with kids and I respected you’d want to take them first, but now I really, really—and I can’t stress this enough—really want to go. The boys were such stinkers about theme parks. I’d take them, but all they ever wanted to do was go on the fastest, scariest rides or drive go-carts. I didn’t mind, and I won’t forbid the girls from going on those if they want to when they’re bigger, but they’ll also want to get makeovers and explore castles.”

Poppy’s initial dread evaporated. She couldn’t deny Mary something like this. She joined them often when they traveled—Grandma Nanny Service, she called it—and every time something feminine and sweet came up, she jumped in with both feet, soaking up nearly as much as the girls. She couldn’t deny Mary her grandmotherly right to spoil them and live out a few of her own dreams in the process.

“When did you have in mind?” Poppy asked.

Mary kicked under the back of the fancy new SUV Trevor brought home, the tailgate lifting slowly. “I got an email from my favorite travel agent yesterday with a huge deal for a week...if we go tomorrow. I know, I know—Trevor is getting home, and he won’t be happy to miss them, so I can plan it another time. But this way, too, I thought, maybe you and Trev would have a little alone time. You might be able to wrangle Michael into spending a day away from his books, and I will tell Paul to order Cody to take a break from the ranch.”

Poppy set her box in the back and covered it with a blanket. “Is it showing?”

Mary frowned. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “It’s been a hard spring. I mean, things are absolutely fine, but...”

“Fine is exhausting,” Mary finished. “You need to be exhausted in the fun sort of way. And no, it does not show. I put the pieces together from experience, the email came...it’s Kismet, if it is all right with you and the dads.”

Trevor wouldn’t like having the girls gone when he arrived, but he’d get over it if they were off with the grandparents. She considered all the factors and pulled the car door shut. Wiping the dust off her hands, she turned to Mary. “What do you need me to pack?”

Poppy waved as the SUV carrying the girls and grandpas, driven by Grandma Mary, pulled out of the driveway. They’d have so much fun. After she made a quick round of texts to Michael, Trevor, and Cody, they’d all signed off on the vacation. A week felt like forever, but as Poppy strolled into the house, completely devoid of life except for the dog lying in a pool of sunshine on the living room floor, she figured she’d make the most of it.

She headed for the girls’ bedroom and backtracked for a laundry basket. The twins hated giving up their too-small or out of season clothes. She’d get a chore done and do it without battling anyone.

She stepped over a teddy bear and pulled open Da’s dresser drawer. At five, her eldest knew what she liked and shoved the best things in the top drawer where Lola couldn’t snag them. A green jumper two sizes too small. Mismatched socks that fit her dolls better, but were the perfect shade of purple. They all landed in the basket to be tucked away in the magical hand-me-down closet where Lola shopped every season.

The doorbell rang, the deep gong echoing. She set the basket aside and hurried to the door, anticipating one of the grandpas sent for a last minute addition to the packing. Poppy backpedaled for the teddy bear she’d stepped over. Lola had probably remembered it last minute and couldn’t be consoled...and knew the grandpas would return for it.

She opened the door, ready to make a clean handoff, and froze.

“Poppy. Hello. I was hoping you’d answer. The GPS gave me such vague directions, I asked a local if this was Paraby Ranch.” Rose Staten, eldest of the Stevens daughters, stood on the steps, somewhere Poppy had never expected to see her sister.

“Okay. Um.” Her mind ran in circles—joy, confusion, anger all working at random.

After their mother’s death when Poppy was an infant, Rose had raised her, though not always graciously. She loved her older sister’s family, but after she took up with the Parabys, everyone cut her off. Though she kept up sporadically with her nieces and nephews, no real contact had happened since she’d left San Antonio for the last time nearly six year earlier.

Rose shifted on her high heels.

“Would you like to come in?” Poppy asked.