Noah

"The girls are still here?" Luke said as he climbed out of the passenger side of my truck. We'd left his car at my place since he wasn't on call this evening.

"Looks like it," I replied, spotting the two vehicles parked in the driveway.

Even if I didn't know which car belonged to who, I could tell by the parking job. Jenny's late model, cherry red SUV sat perfectly straight in the center with enough between its nose and the house for a person to walk through. Lydia's hatchback—a multi colored relic from the last century—had one tire on the concrete, the other three in the grass, and nothing but a breeze could slip between her bumper and Jenny's.

Seeing that Poppy wasn't alone eased some of the guilt I felt about leaving her earlier. If it hadn't been for Luke's insistence that I go home and do something about the—as he put it—rank ass smell coming from my armpits, I would still be out here repairing anything within eyesight, though repair was a bit of an understatement. Poppy's insinuation that something like this had happened to her before stoked the embers of my rage, and the new boards on her front porch now outnumbered the old. It was a few square feet bigger too, perfect for entertaining during the long summer evenings.

Luke paused on the bottom step and looked over his shoulder when it hit him I wasn't following. "Everything okay?"

"Maybe we ought to leave them be." High pitched laughter spilled through cracked windows. "Sounds like they're having a good time."

He scratched at his chin. "You don't want to check on her?"

"I did earlier. She was fine then, and she's for sure fine now. Jenny would've messaged me."

"Then why did we come over here?"

Hell, if I knew. All I could think about while showering was getting back here to make sure she was safe. But now... Standing outside and staring at her golden lit windows, hoping to glimpse her shadow through the curtains, I felt foolish, and for some reason, a little homesick.

"You know, if she calls the cops again, I'll have to give a witness statement." The newly built stair rail didn't budge as Luke leaned against it. "You're definitely being a peeping tom."

"Who's pressing charges? The curtains? That's the only thing we can see from out here."

"Come on. Don't be weird, or at least don't be weirder than you already are."

I glared at my best friend and wondered for the millionth why I put up with him only to come up with the same conclusion I always did. Just like everyone else, I wasn't immune to his affable charm. Didn't mean I didn't want to use my fist to knock that smirk off his face sometimes.

"You go on in. I know you wanted to ask her some questions."

He released a resigned sigh and stomped up the stairs, his boots flicking bits of mud and grass across the pale pine boards. That reminded me to pick up some stain. It would really polish the porch off nicely. Maybe I could finish it up while Poppy was out one day. Either running errands or at work, though, come to think of it, I didn't know if the woman even worked. I didn't know anything about her other than she was gifted at pushing my buttons—all of my buttons, including the ones that made me want to drag her to the bedroom by her hair and keep that mouth too busy to argue.

"Fuck," I huffed and walked over to my truck, hitting the hood with my fist.

The metal was warm against my skin, clinging to the engine's heat and the summer sunshine. I ran my hand over a series of small dents in the hood, recalling how mad I'd been when I saw them the first time. The truck hadn't been in my possession for a month yet, and my little sister, Beth, forgot to put it in the garage after she borrowed it, and Birch Cove got hit with a hailstorm.

My fingers curled into a fist. She'd cried so hard the next morning, apologizing and begging for me to speak to her while I walked around the vehicle inspecting it for damage. When I was done, I walked away without a word, too afraid my anger would make me say things I regretted. But by the time the insurance money came in to fix it, I had a lot bigger regrets in my life.

A screen door squealed and slammed. The porch light came on and pushed away the shadows creeping into the yard. Thinking it was Luke, I shoved my hand into my pocket for the keys and hit the unlock button.

"You read—Poppy."

She walked barefoot across the yard. Her red hair was twisted in a bun on top of her head, and her face was free of any makeup, making her freckles stand out against her pale peach skin. That, coupled with her oversized sweatshirt and leggings, made her look years younger and far more vulnerable. It tugged at cords inside of me I thought had snapped a year ago.

"Luke said you were out here." She spoke with a softness I hadn't heard before and hooked her thumb over her shoulder. "There's no need for y'all to go grab food. We let Lydia order the takeout, and she got enough to feed an army."

Pressing my hip into the bumper, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Figured you wouldn't want to be bothered. You're probably tired."

"I slept all day."

"It was impressive, by the way." She scrunched her nose, bunching the freckles together. "I kept thinking all the noise I was making would wake you up, but you never stirred."

"Is there an insult buried in that?"

Her arms dropped by her sides, causing the neck of her sweatshirt to slip off one shoulder. Where a bra strap should have been, there was nothing but smooth creamy freckled skin. I would only have to tug it down another couple inches to free her breast, and my cock twitched in my jeans, cheering me on and desperate to compare it to the brief glimpse the other night.

And because I needed barriers to remain between us, I responded by lacing my words with a little venom. "Did you hear one?"

"Only about every other time you open your mouth." Poppy shook her head and looked across the yard, refusing to meet my eyes. "I just thought... Never mind."

The truck groaned as I pushed off it. Three steps took me to her, and no amount of reasoning with myself could stop me from grabbing her chin and forcing her to face me. "You thought what?"

"Do you do it on purpose? Act like an asshole, that is."

Her bottom lip brushed against my thumb, and her nipples tented her sweatshirt, further confirming her absence of a bra. She was wearing more clothes now than any other time I'd ever seen her, and she had me so hard it was painful.

What was it about this woman that she had this hold over me? It was too dangerous to want her this badly because I knew what kind of man I was. I would want to keep her, and Poppy didn't seem to be the type of woman to stay anywhere long enough to be kept. And I refused to open myself up to lose again. I barely survived it the first time.

"I think you should be asking yourself the same question."

My hand drifted lower and settled against her neck. It was such a pretty neck. Long and slender. Perfect for my two hands to hold on to while I drove into her. Her pupils were wide, nearly swallowing her irises. Was she angry? Good. I needed her to be angry. To hate me. Because if that was desire, then we were both fucked.

She put her hands around my wrist, but she didn't pull my hand away. When she spoke again, her voice rasped against my ears. "I don't do it on purpose. I've never been a confrontational person in my life. Not until you."

Aware that we might have an audience and her windows were open, I lowered my lips to her ears to whisper, "I think you're the one who started it this time."

Her hands moved to my chest, and she shoved. It wasn't enough to move me, but I stepped back anyway to give her some space. As much as I might want her to hate me, I didn't want her to fear me. Especially after what she went through last night. My teeth ground together as the overwhelming urge to throw her over my shoulder and drag her back into the house where it was safe nearly won over. No amount of grumpy attitude would explain that one away.

"I guess Lydia and Jenny were wrong."

Poppy huffed and shoved her hands under her armpits like she was cold even though it was still eighty degrees. A passing car illuminated her with its headlights, turning her into a beacon of all the things I couldn't have.

"About what?" I asked a heartbeat too late as my brain struggled to shift gears.

"Doesn't matter. Guess I owe Luke twenty dollars." She sprinted up the stairs, and when she reached the porch, she turned to look down at them with a crooked smile. "That's a lot better. Thanks for that, by the way."

Both hands in my pocket, I shrugged, grateful this part of the yard was too dark for her to see my expression. "Sure. What do you owe Luke twenty dollars for?"

"He said you were gonna be a stubborn asshole who wouldn't come inside."

Poppy opened the front door, letting Luke's belly laugh drift outside. I flipped him the bird, betting correctly that he was watching through the windows. His laughter grew more intense, and the others chimed in.

"I'm shocked," I told her before she could go inside. As much as I needed to push her away, I couldn't let her go.

"Why?"

"That you bet on me coming inside."

"Like I said, I thought wrong. Night Noah."