Page 100 of I'll Keep Her Safe

“White wine, if you have it,” Poppy asks politely.

Daisy sets about getting our drinks while Wes grabs a tray of steaks from the fridge, then turns to me. “Vegetarian, right?” he asks, taking a separate tray of skewers filled with chunks of portobello mushroom, bell pepper, and eggplant.

“Yes, thanks,” I say, grateful he remembered.

Wes motions downstairs. “Now that we’re all here, let’s head out to the yard and I’ll fire up the grill.”

We file downstairs into the spacious den, set up with a plush sectional sofa and projector facing a large screen and stereo system. Passing through, we head into the yard, where the sun casts a warm golden glow over the space, and I smile, pleased to see my hard work is being taken care of. My company landscaped Weston’s backyard a few years back in a modern design, featuring clean lines and symmetrical planter boxes to create a sense of order, and it’s obviously been well-maintained.

“Have a seat,” Wes says, gesturing to the outdoor table and chairs on the stone patio, setting the plates of food aside. He turns to the grill, firing it up and letting it warm. I’m pleased we’re eating outdoors. Now that it’s late September, we won’t have many more warm evenings like this.

Daisy appears a moment later with our drinks. Then she pauses, holding her own glass of red wine high in a toast. “To neighbors and friends,” she says, and we all clink glasses.

Poppy settles in at the table and I take a seat beside her, unable to resist sliding my palm into hers. I figure they know about us anyway, so what’s the point in trying to hide it? She sends me a warm smile over her glass, squeezing my hand.

Violet glances between Poppy and Daisy. “So, how did you two meet? I mean, I know you live next door, but that’s not how you met, right?”

Daisy laughs. “No. We met when Poppy worked at Joe’s.”

Violet’s brow crinkles. “You worked at Joe’s?” she asks Poppy around a sip of wine. “When? I swear I would have remembered you.”

Poppy grimaces beside me, and I brush my thumb across the back of her hand.

“I only worked there for a week. My ex…” she trails off, two dots of pink on her cheeks. Despite myself, anger over the injustice of the situation rushes through me, and I open my mouth to finish the sentence for her, when Daisy pipes up.

“Her ex tricked Dave into firing her.”

Kyle glances between the women, his brow furrowed. “How?”

Poppy sighs, explaining the whole sorry fiasco with a red face, and Violet’s expression darkens.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What an asshole.”

“Thank you,” I mutter. “He’s a piece of work. The prick had the audacity to show up at the house and lie to me about being Poppy’s boyfriend.”

Violet’s mouth hangs open in shock. “No way.”

“Yep.” I clench my hand around my bottle of Miller. “That’s not even the worst of it,” I add, then stop myself. Poppy probably doesn’t want me to blurt out every awful thing Kurt’s done, even if I want to scream it from the rooftops in rage.

“Did you try explaining to your boss?” Wes asks from where he stands at the grill, but Poppy shakes her head.

“He was flustered by the whole thing, to be honest. Was worried Kurt would go to social media and ruin his business.” She straightens in her seat, lifting her chin. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m starting my own catering business.” Her gaze slides to mine, warm and grateful, and I can’t hold back anymore. I lean in, kissing her right on the mouth.

“She is,” I say proudly, “and it’s going to be epic. Which reminds me…” I glance back at Kyle and Violet. “Poppy currently caters lunches for my crew, and they love it. I was wondering if your crew might be interested, too. There’s a rotating menu, a set price, and I can tell you it ishands downthe best food I’ve ever eaten.”

Kyle’s eyebrows rise. “Count me in.”

“Me too,” Violet says instantly. “I’m sick of eating pizza and whatever crap we can find at the last minute. I’m sure the crew will be on board, too,” she adds with a wide smile. “Can you email me a sample menu and other details? I’ll get it out to the crew first thing tomorrow.”

“Definitely.” Poppy beams, and I lift her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. I’ve never been more proud of her.

“Food won’t be long,” Wes calls from the grill, and Daisy rises from the table.

“I’ll just pop up to grab the sides.”

“We can help,” Poppy says, and Violet nods, rising too.

The women disappear upstairs, and I lean back in my chair, exhaling slowly, gazing up at the apricot cloud-streaked sky. Wes switches off the grill, setting the meat aside to rest.

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