at us a different way. It gave me clarity,” she said, laying her hands on his to ease them off her arms. “I still think you’re an incredible guy… even if you can’t be my guy.”
Squeezing out of the narrow space between him and the truck, she went over to open the back door. Sitting up front was something that should be reserved for family. If Charley sat up front, she’d talk and keep her brother occupied. If she sat in the back and had nothing but time to observe the front? Poppy didn’t want to think too much about what Charley might pick up on. Less of the sexual tension and maybe some of the closure.
She and Turner were over. They hadn’t really ever started, but whatever had been between them, it could never be what she wanted. It wasn’t just about his rules, it was about desire. Sexual desire, they had in spades. But the desire to fight for each other? To get over the obstacles? To love and forge a future even if everything wasn’t perfect? That was a desire aflame within her and one Turner didn’t even have embers of.
One day he’d be ready, maybe, when his sisters were grown and out in the world. Poppy would wait if he asked her to, but he never would. Turner was an island at the disposal of those who had the coordinates. As long as he was hiding from her, they didn’t have a chance.
They’d never have a chance.
TWENTY-TWO
Either something had been lost in translation or Turner really took a promise seriously. The next day, after her shift ended at five AM, Poppy traipsed in from work exhausted only to find Turner there… asleep… in her bed.
Yes, she recalled the phone conversation on the sidewalk outside Naughtie’s about him taking a break and getting some sleep in her bed. But that was before he’d accused her of sleeping with his best friend. Before they’d concluded their timing was wrong and they had no chance of being a couple.
Getting into her bed could be his way of trying to rekindle things between them. Or it could simply be that the guy was exhausted and he didn’t want to miss the opportunity she’d offered him.
The front door was locked and Poppy knew he wouldn’t attack her. Her exhaustion was bone-deep and too engulfing to ignore. So she got ready for bed—as she’d been dreaming of doing at work for about the past five hours—and climbed under the covers next to him. It wasn’t sexual, she had no intention of touching him. She’d slept with Charley and that wasn’t sexual. Both of them needed sleep, there was space, and she didn’t have the energy or inclination to go elsewhere.
Relaxing her muscles, Poppy’s whole body loosened and her head sank into the pillow. As her eyes closed, a smile curved her lips. Bed was exactly what she needed.
Something startled her awake.
Poppy’s eyes opened, she braced like she’d been prodded.
“Just my phone.”
The deep male grumble switched the focus of her confusion. On her side, with her face buried against his back, Poppy’s arm was curved up over his waist. Her hand was nestled in his, against the strength of his chest.
As regret tried to edge in, she inhaled. Damn, Turner, he always had that alluring air of sawdust about him, she didn’t get it. Maybe it was in his hair, yet he smelled clean… and gorgeous… Like safety, and security, and home.
Her first urge was to tip the angle of her face, so that instead of her forehead, her mouth could rest against him. Skin, he wasn’t wearing any kind of shirt. When she’d first got into the bed, she’d told herself that they wouldn’t be touching, that it wasn’t sexual.
Kicking herself, Poppy couldn’t believe that she’d actually convinced herself of that. It was Turner. It was sexual when they were a city apart, how could it ever not be sexual? She’d never considered how lucky women were that they didn’t have to worry about erections betraying them. Of course, as soon as that thought popped into her head, she wanted to know if he…
Another chime. His phone.
Breathing out his obvious annoyance, he raised her hand from his chest to kiss her fingers. “One sec.”
He let her go and reached over to the crate at the side of the bed, the impromptu nightstand. She guessed to snag his phone.
The release gave her the chance to roll onto her back. His body hadn’t moved