“Thank you again!” I say, heading for the front door. As Connor holds the door for me, I stop, turning around. “Oh, and warm your dinner in the oven on 350 for fifteen minutes. There are cookies in the bag too, my grandmother’s special recipe.”
Diana grins, her hands going over her chest. “I love cookies!”
Chapter 18
Connor
I put my truck in park, leaning back in the driver’s seat and feeling my strength leave me. “Guess I’ll leave you to it. I know you have a lot of work to do.”
My arms feel like lead, my gut like stone. Watching her take over the conversation with Diana Nichols, I felt like I was watching a door close for me. She has what she needs, and obviously, my growl first, break bones next, and later, feel any sort of remorse tactics didn’t need to be used.
Truthfully, I think she’s done with me now that she’s got the laptop back, and I want to preemptively give her an out before she awkwardly tells me to go. The laptop is what started this whole thing, and now that I’ve fixed that fuckup, I feel better about it, maybe less guilty.
Besides, I should work on research for the new job for Mr. Big. I’m actually glad I have that as a distraction now so I can throw myself into work and tell myself that it’s for the best. At least, it’ll be the best for Poppy.
“Like hell,” Poppy says on a laugh, looking over at me like I’ve suddenly sprouted antennae out of my head and started speaking nonsense. “I mean, I’ve got work, but I’d like for you to come inside.”
“Inside?” I repeat dully, and she nods. “Why?”
“Inspiration, of course. You are . . . my muse.” She waves her hands wide in a move reminiscent of a Price is Right model.
“And what, exactly, is a muse supposed to do?” I ask, softening to her antics and only slightly affected by my own desire to stay with her, no matter how bad of a plan it is.
Poppy grins, knowing she’s got me. “Pretty simple. Sit on the couch and look tough and grumpy and sexy as hell. Preferably naked, but that’s up for discussion. If it helps you decide, I’ll put a clean sheet down so there’s no Nut and Juice hairs on your taint.” She somehow makes that sound like a major concession.
“That’s much appreciated,” I reply, still unsure. “You mind if I . . . read while I muse for you? Uhm, work stuff.”
She pauses, only for the tiniest split second, but I feel the hesitation like a shot to my gut regardless. But she still agrees. “That’s fine. You can even use my now backup laptop,” Poppy offers as she hugs her original laptop tightly. She gets out, and I follow her inside, where she calls out to Nut and Juice. “Hello, my precious babies! Have you boys have been good?”
A fusillade of yaps greets her, and she opens the door wider for them to run out and do their business. I have no idea how she trained them to just use her yard without much more than a short fence border they could easily scale, but they do, rolling around a minimal bit before trotting inside as if they own the place. She gives them each a treat and some loving pets and then kicks a ball down the hallway.
“Go play for a bit. Mama’s got work to do,” she tells the two, who run off after the toy. She watches them, listening to the rumble of their playing, and then looks over at me. “Want a beer?”
“Yeah,” I reply, going over to her couch and sitting down. I toe off my shoes and pull off my shirt, leaning back with my arms stretched wide along the back of the couch. When she comes back, her jaw drops open. “Feeling inspired?”
“Great googly eyed mooglies . . . I’m feeling something, that’s for damn sure.” She lifts one of the bottles to her forehead, still watching me.
I pat the couch next to me. “Want me to take off my jeans too?”
“No, that’ll be fine,” she assures me, setting the beers on the coffee table. “You get naked, I’m gonna get distracted, we’ll have crazy sex all night, I won’t finish my book, Hilda will kill me, and then there will be the whole memorial mess to deal with, and I don’t have a black dress that fits to get