Dreaming of His Snowed In Kiss - Jessie Gussman Page 0,10
take them thirty minutes just to get up from the table and walk away. Plus, they’re nice.”
“They are nice. But I’m sure they’d give up their table for you.” She crossed her arm over her stomach and tapped her pointy little chin. West had never really noticed it before, but her face was kind of in the shape of a heart. Fitting, with her personality.
Not that he cared.
“I guess we could get Blakely and Martin to get up. I’ve just delivered their drinks, and they’re still waiting on their food, but they meet here every week, they’ve been best friends forever, and I suppose they’d be willing to give their table up for you and your four children. She’s your sister, after all.”
Blakely had been so engrossed in talking and laughing with Martin that she hadn’t even seen that he’d walked in. “First of all, they’re not my kids. Second of all, I’m not putting anyone out of their table.” She’d been joking, but laughing with her was dangerous, and he wouldn’t do it. “I’m taking the kids to the park.”
“That’s fine. Tell me what you all want, and I’ll bring the food when I get off my shift in thirty minutes.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t recall saying I did. I offered. Actually, I didn’t even offer. I just said I’d do it.”
“I can feed the kids.”
“No one said you couldn’t.” She put her hands on her hips. “I wanted to do something nice. I know that’s really hard for you to understand.”
“I understand nice. I just don’t understand ridiculously happy all the time over everything. That doesn’t make any sense. You don’t make sense.”
“I would say someone needs to go back home and get out of the other side of the bed, but I’m pretty sure both sides are equally bad at your house. Maybe you need a whole new bed.”
“I gave my bed to Minnie.”
Immediately, her face dropped, although the glow of serene happiness never diminished. He felt bad immediately for being the reason that there was even a shadow of anything other than extreme joy on her face. He’d feel terrible if the happiness that he complained about so incessantly actually disappeared.
“I’m sorry.” He hadn’t meant to say that; the words just slipped out. Poppy wasn’t meant to look anything but happy. She wasn’t meant to have anything but joy and happiness in her life.
“No. It’s me that’s sorry. You do have a lot going on, and I’ve just been picking on you like we always do. I’ll try to be more considerate.”
Of course, she took the blame. Which made him feel like more of a heel than he already did. Why did she push all his buttons and get his defenses up?
It was like he couldn’t be too nice to her, or she’d see what was really in his heart.
Even he didn’t know what was really in his heart.
“It’s me. Just a lot of stuff going on at my house. I’m used to being alone.” That was absolutely true.
Poppy nodded, her eyes sweeping the children and her heart on her sleeve. It was obvious she couldn’t see anything in distress without wanting to spread her positive energy or whatever it was around.
Part of him wanted to roll his eyes, and part of him wanted to wrap his arms around her and protect her from all the hurt the world could throw at her.
Didn’t she know when she let herself be so open that all she was asking for was a great big pile of heartache? Hadn’t she lived long enough to see that?
“Do you know what the kids want? I’ll put an order in?” she asked. Then her smile descended on Warren, who blinked from its brightness. “I bet you can tell me what you want. You’re big enough to know.”
“I want French fries. And I want chocolate milk too. But I hate hot dogs.”
“I can put extra onions on yours if you want.”
West almost laughed. What kid liked onions?
“Barf me out the door,” Warren said, sticking a finger in his mouth and his tongue out.
“Then you can give your onions to West, because he loves them.”
“If it has onions on it, I’m not touching it.” Warren crossed his arms over his chest and put his nose in the air.
The corners of Poppy’s mouth crinkled. It was obvious to look on her face that she thought he was the most adorable kid ever.
“I don’t like onions either,” West said, more to prove her wrong,