Page 58 of I'll Keep Her Safe

Hope blooms in my chest as I’m reminded of what she said last weekend, but I quickly squash it down. There’s only one person I want to be with, and I can’t have her.

A honk sounds outside, and I exhale, pleased for the distraction.

“Have fun!” Dean says.

Bailey presses a kiss to my cheek. “Love you.”

“You too, kiddo.”

I turn to Poppy, motioning toward the door, and she nods, gathering the long part of her dress in one hand so she doesn’t trip. There are slits up the sides I hadn’t noticed, exposing her long, shapely thighs, and I force my gaze away as we head out to the car. A black limo waits on the driveway, and Poppy turns to me, her face animated.

“A limo?!” she says, bouncing on her heels. I have to bite my lip to hide my grin.

“They send them for all the finalists,” I say with a shrug.

It’s a lie. I ordered the limo the moment Bailey told me how awful Poppy’s prom was. That, and I wanted to do something special for her after what happened this week with Kurt and her job.

The driver holds the door open and Poppy slides onto the back seat. “Wow,” she says, glancing around the interior as I climb in beside her. “I haven’t been in a limo since prom.”

I decide to test the waters. “Fun night, was it?”

“Um…” She smooths her dress across her knees. “No. Kurt and I had a huge fight.”

Shit. I shouldn’t have said anything.

“Well, maybe tonight can make up for it,” I say, as if the thought has just occurred to me.

The driver pulls onto the road, and Poppy’s gaze rests on me for a long moment. “Thank you. For the dress, for bringing me tonight, for… everything.” There’s a catch to her voice, and emotion twists in my chest.Ishould be thankingherfor the trip here in the first place, but I know if I try to speak more, I’ll say things I can’t take back.

Instead, I smile. “You’re welcome,” I murmur, forcing my gaze out the window at the passing vineyards.

It’s going to be a long night.

22

Wyatt

“Mathers!” Bruce Tisdale claps me on the back, and I push my mouth into a smile. Bruce runs a landscaping company in New Jersey, and I’ve never much liked him. He’s a rotund man; loud, offensive, always into the booze, and hard to avoid at these awards ceremonies.

“Bruce.” I shake his hand with reluctance. “Good to see you.”

“It’s been a while.”

He smooths two fingers over his mustache, gaze straying to Poppy as she trails behind me in awe, enjoying a glass of champagne and babbling excitedly. She’s been entranced since we left the house in the limo, and when we walked in here, she gasped at the decorations—huge flower arches, pilasters wrapped in ivy, and a living wall set up for photos. Each year this event gets bigger and more ostentatious. This year is no exception, and I’m sure the two years I missed were the same.

Poppy grins at my side, glowing. “Everything looks amazing,” she breathes, and Bruce’s gaze rakes across her appreciatively.

“I don’t think we’ve met yet, darling.” He reaches for her hand, and though she seems hesitant to shake it, she does so out of politeness.

“Hello. I’m Poppy.”

“Poppy!” Bruce presses his mouth to the back of her hand, and I resist the impulse to punch him. “Well, aren’t you a sweet little thing?”

Jesus.

I glower at him, my blood simmering. “Bruce—” I begin, but Poppy puts a calming hand on my arm.

“Why don’t I grab us some drinks?”

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