The alarm on her phone had gone off to wake them, but she hadn’t taken the thing off flight mode. Turner had to work and she had to show him that she respected his commitment, hence the alarm. But Poppy herself wasn’t ready to let the world into their bubble yet. Unfortunately, the world didn’t get her not-so-subtle hint.
Her lover was still in the shower when the hammering started on the main door. With the hallway between their cavernous room and the entrance, the sound was muffled. No matter how hard Poppy tried, she couldn’t wish it away. Whoever it was, if they knew anything about the building, would know that the deck doors didn’t lock. Even if they weren’t sure that the building was occupied, a quick trip around to the other side would reveal the drapes were closed over the windows. That only happened when someone wanted to get some rest without being woken by the sun.
Rather than be caught naked in their mussed sheets, Poppy forced herself to sit up and snagged Turner’s tee-shirt from the floor. The staff wouldn’t be knocking with such vigor. Checking if they wanted anything was their job, but so was discretion.
Grammie wouldn’t be so energetic either. The eldest member of the Granger clan was so mischievous that she’d probably have bypassed the front door and come around to the deck just to get the drop on them.
The knocking stopped before Poppy got to the door. Unlocking it, she hoped the person had given up and gone back to the house. Now that she was out of bed, joining Turner in the shower seemed like a good idea. They wouldn’t have long, but she’d relish every second with him that she got.
When she opened the door to peek out, praying there’d be no one there, Poppy was disappointed. Preston was there, typing something into his phone, though not for long.
“Poppy,” he said, bounding forward a step, his grin dominating his face. “We’ve got it.”
“It?” she asked, tilting her head all the way to the side to release a snagged strand of hair from Turner’s tee-shirt. “What do we have?”
“The silver bullet! The golden ticket!”
She still didn’t follow. “I guess there are a lot of precious metals lying around the estate… Good for you, I’m glad you have it.”
Whatever it was, Poppy figured it could wait and tried to close the door.
Preston laid a hand on it to hold it open. “Trust me, Poppy, you want to hear this. Turner does too, is he around?”
“He’s in the shower.”
“I can wait,” he said, vibrating with excitement.
“He’ll be late for work.”
“He’ll want to hear this too.”
It wasn’t like she could just close the door in his face. Tempting though the notion was. Releasing a frustrated sigh, Poppy backed away to let him in and led him into the main room. The bathroom door was still open, the sound of the shower signaled that Turner wasn’t done yet. She retrieved the clothes she’d brought for him from the closet and reached into the bathroom to put them on the vanity.
“Honey,” she called out. “Your friend came to visit.”
Warning him of company seemed only fair. If they were alone, he might come wandering out naked. Under normal circumstances, she’d encourage such behavior.
“Doubt that will hurry him up,” Preston said.
Poppy crossed the room to slip her legs under the blanket again. “He’s been in there a while; he’s probably almost done. Do we have to wait for him or can you just tell me?”
The couple of wingback chairs by the deck doors were the only places to sit in the room, other than the piano stool. Preston pulled one of the chairs around to angle it to face the bed. The sound of the feet dragging on the beautiful wooden floor made her wince, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Violet had an affair with Trey Hanover.”
She didn’t understand why that was news or why Preston would be excited about it. “I wouldn’t call it an affair, they dated on and off for years. When they were teenagers, again in her early twenties, I think. They were together for a while when she was modeling, he used to travel with her. They were a couple, not an affair. Why do you care about that?”
“I don’t care about that,” Preston said, shifting to the edge of his chair and dropping his elbows to his knees to clasp his hands together. “Holden Abernathy cares.”