Love Me Forever - Juliana Stone Page 0,32

of cheese. A pathetic start to her evening, but there you have it. She’d just settled down on the sofa and put on some mindless reality show when her doorbell chimed, which in turn gave Mabel the excuse to be on guard and bark like a demon that was twice her size.

Poppy hopped up and gave Mabel some serious side-eye. “Bark collar,” was all she said to quiet the dog, then she opened the door to find Link standing there. “Do we have a dinner date I didn’t know about?”

“No,” he said, sidling past her. Mabel immediately dropped to the floor and rolled onto her back for a scratch.

Shaking her head at the sight, Poppy grabbed a second wineglass, filled it, and handed it to Link before muting the television and pointing to the garden door. “You want to sit out there?”

“It’s hotter than Hades,” he replied. “And I’m already worked up. Let’s stay inside where it’s at least comfortable, and maybe I’ll cool down.”

Poppy returned to her spot on the sofa, and Link sprawled onto the large circular comfy chair across from her.

“What’s up?” she asked, watching the man closely. She wasn’t one to revel in another’s pain, but Link’s obvious distress took her mind off her own problems, and for now, that was some kind of win.

He took a big gulp, nearly finishing the glass, and scowled. “She won’t talk to me.”

Ah. “I’m guessing she is Elise Avery?”

“Damn right,” he growled, finishing his wine in another gulp before jumping to his feet and heading over the kitchen table. He topped up his glass and held the bottle aloft, but Poppy shook her head. Other than one bite of cheese, she hadn’t eaten anything since before noon, and it was a well-known fact that when it came to alcohol, she was a lightweight.

“I’m not drinking alone,” Link said, ignoring her. He filled her glass to the brim before setting down the now-empty wine bottle on the coffee table.

“Spill.” She took a sip and arched an eyebrow. “What happened?” Poppy settled back into soft material and waited.

“Nothing,” he replied, clearly outraged. “I’ve called her every single day since that damn party, and nothing. I’ve left messages, and just now?” He made a sound of disgust. “Just now, I stopped by her place, and she slammed the door in my face. Got that? Slammed the fucking thing and told me never to go there again.”

“Link,” she began gently. How to say this without offending? “remember when you said you didn’t want to tread into stalker territory? Well, you’re there. You know that, right?”

“She’s driving me bonkers.” He ran his hands over his face and hung his head. “This is what it’s come to. If my mates back home could see me now, they’d think I’d lost my berries in the lake.”

“Berries?”

“Balls.” He made a face. “I’m not the kind of guy to push in on someone when I’m not wanted, but bloody hell, that’s not the case here. She wants me and I want her, and I don’t understand why it can’t happen. Why would she run from something that could be so good?” He frowned and jerked up his head. “Is she with someone and I don’t know it?”

Poppy shook her head, “Not as far as I know, but Link, she must have a reason for not wanting to move forward with you.”

He leaned forward. “But that’s just it, love. She doesn’t. I asked her why she was being so damn persnicky—”

“Do you mean persnickety?”

“That’s what I said.”

“That’s not what you said, but it doesn’t matter, because it’s not the word you’re looking for.”

He said something that would make a nun pass out. “You know what I mean. She’s resisting us and what we could have. She’s closing the damn door on it, and I have no idea why because she won’t even talk to me.” His scowl deepened. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was embarrassed or something.” His eyes widened in such a way that it was comical. “Embarrassed of me. Link Major. Can you believe it? Just last year, I was on People’s Sexiest Bachelors list. You know that, right?”

“Yes,” Poppy replied, hiding a smile. As one of the premier footballers in the world, with a body that would make Beckham proud, and a devastating smile, not to mention a castle in England, it was easy to see why. “You sent me a signed copy in a frame, which”—she pointed to the mantle above the