Page 5 of I'll Keep Her Safe

My laugh comes again, more knowing this time. This kid has always known how to get her way.

“And what would that be?”

“You remember my friend, Poppy?”

Without warning, an image of the curvaceous redhead appears in my mind. I’ve met Poppy a handful of times, most recently at their graduation last month, but there’s no way I could forget her. Peaches-and-cream complexion, eyes the color of dark espresso, and shoulder-length hair that blazes copper in the sun. Then there’s her lips; soft, full, and always painted a deep scarlet. Believe me, I feel like a creep for noticing how beautiful my daughter’s friend is, but any hot-blooded male would notice Poppy. I have to admit, I was relieved her graduation gown covered most of her body the last time I saw her. I didn’t need a reminder of what was under there.

“Uh, Poppy?” I echo vaguely, pretending I haven’t the faintest clue who she’s referring to. The last thing my daughter needs to know is that I can recall her friend’s face without even trying.

“Poppy Spencer? She’s mybest friend, Dad. You’ve met her at least a few times now.”

“Oh, yeah. I… yep.” I’m trying to be aloof, but I don’t want her to think I’m an asshole. “I know the one.” I pad across the room to the full wall of sliding glass doors that open out onto the yard. I’ve left trays of tomato seedlings along the floor inside to soak up the sun through the glass, and I distract myself by inspecting them before giving the trays a spritz of water.

“Well, I’ve kind of left her in the lurch,” Bailey continues, her tinny voice carrying from the phone on the counter. “She’s been living with me and Dean, but now we’re going to San Fran.”

“Right,” I murmur absently, noticing that one of the seedlings has died. Maybe this spot getstoomuch sun this time of year? But all the others seem to be flourishing. I crouch down and feel the soil, curious.

“And that means she has to move out, on very short notice. She’s practically going to be homeless and it’s all my fault.”

“Uh-huh.” The soil is moist enough, so what’s going on? Too acidic, maybe?

“Anyway, I was thinking… maybe she could stay with you?”

My head snaps up as my attention returns to the conversation. “What?”

“That wouldn’t be a problem, would it, Dad?”

I rise to my feet and cross back to the phone, the plants momentarily forgotten. “What wouldn’t be a problem?”

“Poppy staying with you.”

She wants her friend to stayhere?

My eyebrows rise and heat creeps into my face. I pick up my beer and take another swallow, glad my daughter can’t see me through the phone.

“I was thinking she could use my room, just until she finds a place,” Bailey adds. I don’t miss the way she intentionally sweetens her voice in an attempt to win me over.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, kiddo.”

“Why not?” Now I can hear her pouting. She’s good.

But there’s no way her friend can stay here.

I scratch at my short beard, considering what reason to give. I can’t exactly say her friend can’t stay because I find her attractive, can I?

“You know this is my busiest time of year,” I say at last. “I’ll be at work most of the time.”

“Exactly!” she exclaims, triumphant, and I know I’ve taken the wrong approach. “You won’t even notice she’s there.”

Oh, I’d notice.

“She’s a great roommate. Tidy, considerate, and she can cook!”

“I’m sure she is,” I begin warily, “but—”

“Dad,” Bailey cuts in, her tone serious. “If I was in trouble and needed somewhere to go, would you take me in?”

My brows come down. “In a heartbeat, you know that. You’re my family, honey.”

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