could last forever.
“Can you open your eyes, babe? Come on, baby, show me those emeralds.” There was something so real about his voice. Confused, her eyelids rose a tiny bit. “Okay, baby, that’s good… Now look at me. Are you looking at me?”
Still not really sure what was going on, Poppy shifted her head to see he was there. Sitting on the edge of her bed. Her first instinct was to smile, but the panic in his expression bred her frown instead.
“What’s wrong?” Poppy asked, driving her hands into the mattress to try sitting up.
She didn’t get far because her head began to spin.
Turner had already grabbed her arms to stop her rising anyway. “Just lay there a minute.” Poppy didn’t understand why her head was aching or why she was so confused. “Shit, baby…” He kept stroking her hair. “You know I was joking about the cops finding your body in my place, right?”
“What happened?” she asked, her hand fumbling its way onto his lap, seeking his.
One of his hands kept stroking her hair and face, but he gave her the other. “You didn’t show up for work.”
“What?” she asked, speared by panic. Poppy tried to find her phone, but any time she rose too high, Turner put her on her back again. “What time is it?”
“It’s just after six,” he said, his fingers moving into her hair. “I was across town when Charley called me. Why don’t any of us have your number?”
“My boss does,” she said, laying a hand on her cheek. “I feel warm, but it’s cold.”
“It’s cold because I opened all the windows and doors.” Her hand slid down the front of her throat to her upper chest, except… Raising her head, she picked up the torn lace her fingers discovered. “Not the way I pictured tearing your clothes off, but I’ll take it.”
“You tore my dress,” Poppy said, more than a little aroused by the idea. “I’m sorry I missed that.”
“What did I tell you about paint? Huh? Bathroom paints have solvents in them… Damnit, baby, I thought Charley’s call was the most terrifying moment of my life until I walked in there and saw you on the bathroom floor. What were you thinking?”
With the fog of sleep lifting, she recalled events. After coming back from work, Poppy hadn’t been tired and had changed into her bridesmaid dress to paint and tile in the bathroom. Yeah, she didn’t have a damn clue what she was doing, but YouTube was a great help.
“I thought I’d try the shower. I did all the tiles around the… it took a while, I… I read about it online, watched videos.”
“Baby—”
“Did I do it wrong?” Her eyes moved to his. Tension still hung around him. “You can tear it down if it’s wrong. I’ll pay—”
“Pop,” he said. “Jesus Christ, Poppy.”
Bowing over her, he broke their rule before she even realized he was kissing her. Although his tongue was definitely in her mouth, Poppy chose to just appreciate his fervor, rubbing his shoulders as she did, absorbing his stability. When he pulled away, her headache came back. Funny, when he’d been kissing her, there had been no pain.
“You got a fright,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he said, his forehead on hers. “I got a fright.”
Those weren’t words he’d choose for himself. Maybe some of her lag was contagious and all he could do was parrot what he heard. She was like that sometimes.
“I was just sleeping,” she said. “I did the painting and I was trying to work out if it would need another coat or if I should do the backsplash. But I wasn’t sure about the vanity. I didn’t feel confident to do that myself… Power tools scare me.”
“You used the manual tile cutter?” he asked and she just nodded, still caressing his shoulders. “Babe, you were in there with the solvent paint all around you, no ventilation. You should always ventilate… What if I hadn’t been here?”
“It was getting on and I hadn’t eaten or slept… I was on the floor trying to decide and… I guess I fell asleep.”
“You got a headache?” She nodded. “Feel sick?”
“I haven’t eaten—”
“Let’s let the doctor decide,” he said, sitting up straight while taking her hand to kiss the back. “Stay here. I’ll pull the truck around the front and come back for you, okay? Do not get out of this bed. I’ll come back up for you. We’re going to the emergency room.”
“No,” she said, strengthening her hold on his hand when