Page 57 of I'll Keep Her Safe

Shit, why the hell did I say that?

“Just… you know.” I twirl my beer bottle, trying for some more of that nonchalance. “All the stuff you told me about him? It’s what he deserves.”

I’m relieved when she nods, and Dean chips in. “He’s the worst. She deserves so much better.”

Yes. She does.

“At least she’s safe with you,” Bailey adds.

Guilt gnaws at me as I think of what I’ve imagined doing to Poppy, the moments where it’s felt like we’re flirting. How close I came to crossing a line this afternoon by the pool. I’m anything but safe.

I need to remember what matters most, and that’s ensuring Bailey’s friend is taken care of. Making sure I do the responsible thing, and keep my hands off her.

“She is,” I say firmly, more to myself than to my daughter.

“She seems different,” Bailey murmurs, staring down into her wine with a smile. “Happier. More relaxed.”

“She does,” Dean agrees.

This lights up something inside me that’s hard to ignore. Is it possible I’ve had something to do with that? I raise my beer to hide my smile.

“How do I look?” Poppy enters the room and I choke on my beer.

She looks gorgeous. Breathtaking. Like everything a man could want.

She’s swept her red hair back, leaving a few loose strands falling around her heart-shaped face. Her cheeks are pink, her lips that perfect scarlet as always, and the dress…

Wow. The neckline highlights her cleavage, the beaded part clings to the curve of her waist, and the rest falls to the floor in long sections.

Honestly, if we were alone now, I’d haul her into my arms and kiss her, consequences be damned. Never have I seen a woman look more beautiful. I have to remind myself to breathe.

“Holy shit, you look amazing!” Bailey skips to her friend, examining the dress. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s great, Pops.” Dean beams at her. “Really pretty.”

Poppy blushes, staring at her hands. “Thanks,” she murmurs. Her gaze flicks quietly to me, eyes round and expectant, and I realize she’s waiting for my thoughts. As if my opinion is the one that matters.

I take a large gulp of beer to steady myself. “Yes, it’s…” Fuck, how do I choose an appropriate word here? It’s both sexy and pretty all in one; innocent, like something a princess might wear in a children’s film, but I could imagine slowly taking it off her, letting it fall to the floor, watching her step from it.

Don’t think about that.

Bailey slides me a questioning glance. I’m taking too long to answer.

But before I can land on the right word, my daughter steps forward, adjusting my shirt collar. I try not to notice the disappointment that shutters Poppy’s expression.

“Seriously, Dad.” Bailey smooths a hand down my chest. “You look so handsome. You should be taking a real date.”

My gaze darts to Poppy before I can stop it, but she’s fiddling with her purse.

“You wouldn’t mind if your dad met someone?” she asks casually, not looking at anyone in particular.

My pulse trips at the question. What is she doing?

“What?” Bailey looks from her to me, puzzled. “Of course not. I’d love you to meet someone, Dad. I want you to be happy.”

Poppy glances up and flashes me a smile, mouthing the words, “Told you.”

It’s never too late to be happy.

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