Page 88 of I'll Keep Her Safe

“Of course you can.” I step forward, sliding my arms around her waist.

“How much did this cost?”

“Don’t worry about that,” I say, brushing a kiss on her hair. “You’ll more than make it back with your food.”

“But—”

“If it helps, you can think of me like an investor,” I suggest. “Or… a silent business partner.”

She opens her mouth to protest again, and I silence her with a finger to her lips. “Marty left this house to both of us, Poppy.”

“I know—” She pushes my hand away. “And I think it’s too much. I only met him once.”

“Sure.” I shrug. “But he saw what I’ve always seen in you. How lovely you are.”

She frowns. “How could he—”

“And he knew there was something between us. He could tell, even before we knew it. He wanted us to be happy. Which means we get to use this space however we want, and I think this is the best use for it.”

She looks around again, her eyes moving from one place to another, as if she can’t drink it all in quickly enough. As if she doesn’t dare let herself believe it’s real.

“It’s all yours,” I murmur, squeezing her waist. “You can run your catering business for real.”

And then, to my horror, she bursts into tears.

“Shit,” I mutter, my brows slamming down, but she shakes her head.

“This is… this is my dream come true.”

I wipe my thumb over her cheek, searching her espresso-brown eyes. “Are you sure? Because if it’s not right—”

“It’s perfect.” She laughs through her tears. “It’s… everything I could ever want. Thank you.”

Warmth spills through my chest. I breathe out, watching as she wanders around the spacious kitchen, touching everything, marveling at the appliances, the countertops, the pantry. My heart is so full that I could do this for her, to show her how important her cooking is, to give her the support and encouragement she never got from Kurt. The support and encouragement I will never stop giving her, as long as there is still breath in my lungs.

“What will you do with the rest of the house?” Poppy asks as I wander to her side, where she’s looking out into the vegetable garden.

“Well, it’sours,” I remind her. “And I don’t know. Rent it out, I guess?”

She nods thoughtfully, gazing out into the yard. “Look at all those vegetables.”

I chuckle. “I know. Honestly, I don’t understand why he spent so much time at the community garden when he had this.”

Poppy looks at me warmly. “I do. It was because of you, Wyatt. I think… I think you were like the son he never had.”

My heart softens. I’d never considered it like that, but she might be right. The way he’d listen to me, give advice, check in about Bailey, ask about my life. The way he always called me “my boy” so affectionately. He wanted someone to mentor, to guide, to love.

And in truth, I’d wanted the same. I’ve never known my father, something I’ve always tried to be matter-of-fact about. He’s never been in my life, that’s just how it is. But Marty filled that void in a way I never realized. He became that father figure for me. We leaned on each other in much the same way.

And suddenly I realize exactly why he left this house to me. To meandPoppy. He didn’t get to fill this house with kids like he and Joyce wanted…

But we can.

It’s never too late to be happy.

My heart is full as I gaze at Poppy, remembering her words, and how Marty said the same thing to me—that it’s not too late and we still have a lifetime.

I can see that lifetime, I can imagine that future with her, right here. And I realize I don’t just want to give her the kitchen. I want to live here with her, to raise a family here with her. There are four floors above us which would make a lovely family home. A home where we can live, and Poppy can work, where I can grow vegetables in Marty’s garden, keeping the memory of him alive, carrying that memory into the next generation, using it to fuel my new business idea.

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