Dreaming of His Snowed In Kiss - Jessie Gussman Page 0,11

but he really didn’t like onions. “I think you could be safe to leave onions out of the whole order.”

Gabriella started to fuss, and he bounced her car seat, hoping she could hold it together until they got to the park at least. He had bottles in the baby bag, but he hadn’t been able to sling that pink thing over his shoulder and still feel like a man, so he left it in his truck.

“Well, then maybe we can trade. I’ll give you my hamburger, and you can give me your onions, and we’ll both be happy.”

“I’m starting to think I know why you’re not married.”

“Because I choose not to be,” she said over her shoulder with a lowered head, still writing on her notepad.

“I thought that was an apple you were eating the other day, but I bet it was one of those purple onions.”

“Might have been. Don’t they keep vampires away or something?” She pursed her lips. “Funny you’re still around.”

“That’s garlic.” But he couldn’t bring himself to retaliate about the vampire comment. It hit too close to home. Too close to the darkness and the negative blackness that always seemed to seep into his soul.

If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“What do you want?” she asked, straightening from her bent-over position in front of the boys.

“Burger and fries is fine. Bring one for yourself. I’ll pay for it.” He turned just a little, jiggling the car seat as Gabriella started fussing more earnestly. “You can grab my wallet from my back pocket.”

Her eyes opened wide, almost like he’d suggested she skin the baby and hang it over a spit.

Even after Race and Penny had adopted him and his siblings, his life hadn’t exactly been on the straight and narrow. He supposed his past defined him more than he wanted to admit.

“I’m sorry. I decked the guy who did that to my sister.”

“No, it’s me. I guess I’m a prude. Normal people were fine with that.” There it was again, the little dim in her smile, the little dip in the peppy words she used. The cause was all him.

He didn’t even know why he noticed. It wasn’t like he spent his life going around wondering whether some woman was smiling as bright as she had been or not.

Only with Poppy.

“Warren, grab my wallet out of my pocket, please.”

Warren thought it was pretty cool to be able to grab his wallet, and his grin was big and wide as he pulled the leather pouch out.

“Here you go.” He pointed it at West, like West didn’t already have both hands full or he would have gotten the wallet himself.

“I’ll take it.” Poppy reached her hand out and took the wallet carefully from Warren.

Opening it, she said, “Is there a card?”

“There should be enough cash in there to cover it. Or you can use my card if you want. Your choice.”

When she opened it, the picture that he always kept in there stared out at her, and she paused. It was the last one that had been taken of his birth parents and his siblings. Her breath hitched.

It was only a second or two as her eyes swept the picture, and maybe it was fanciful thinking on his part, but it was like she picked him out of the group of children.

“Your birth parents?” she asked softly, the glow still there but more of a warm, muted feeling than the bright sunshine that she usually exuded.

“Yeah.” Had he wanted her to see it? It wasn’t a picture he went around showing anyone. Of course, he didn’t usually go around giving his wallet to just anyone either. Ever, actually.

Poppy was different. She was different in a lot of different ways.

“You guys look happy.” Her finger hovered above the picture, almost, but not quite, touching.

Her words were soft, all the vivacity erased.

There was compassion in her eyes, not pity, thankfully, when she looked up at him.

Why did he have the feeling that she knew how he felt? It was almost like there was a camaraderie in her gaze that said she’d been there.

But she hadn’t.

That must be how she related to people so well. She could make them feel like she knew how they felt.

She pulled her phone out of her apron pocket. “I need to get back to work. Give me your phone number, and I’ll text you if I need you.”

She hadn’t asked for his number. Just demanded. But because it was Poppy, and he knew she wasn’t using