Page 93 of I'll Keep Her Safe

“Bywe, he means me,” Poppy says, laughing as she opens the front door with her key and lets us into the house. I’m relieved when Bailey laughs.

“Well, you are the better cook,” she agrees.

“Hey,” I protest fruitlessly, tugging off my jacket.

I mean,obviouslyPoppy is the better cook. But I suddenly want nothing more than to cook for my daughter, and for the woman who has spent countless hours cooking for me. Besides, if she puts on that apron, I can’t say what I’ll do.

“I’m going to cook tonight,” I say firmly, and Poppy’s eyebrows rise as she shrugs out of her leather jacket. “You know Icancook, right?” I add, trying to bite back the playful smile that tugs at my mouth. Now isnotthe time to flirt with her.

“I had no idea,” she says, folding in her lips to hide her smile and turning to pet Sugar. It seems I’m not the only one struggling to act normal.

“Oh, this must be Sugar!” Bailey grins when the cat winds around her ankles. She mewls as Bailey pets her, lapping up the attention. Then my daughter’s gaze lifts to me. “You know, I really couldn’t imagine you with a kitten, Dad.”

“You should see them together.” Poppy scoops up Sugar and places her on my shoulder, where she drapes herself lazily. “Aren’t they cute?”

My gaze darts to Poppy, gazing at us adoringly. She probably shouldn’t call mecutein front of Bailey.

Thankfully, Bailey doesn’t notice, instead coming to pet the cat where she sits on me. “So cute.” She examines me closely. “How are you, Dad?”

I swallow, refusing to let my gaze stray to Poppy where she sits at the breakfast bar, even though that’s all I want to do. Because I am over-the-moon happy after our conversation at Jones Beach. I’m so full of love and excitement for what our future holds. We just need to get this pesky issue of telling Bailey out the way.

“Good,” I say, clearing my throat roughly. “Work’s good.”

She nods, still eying me. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what Poppy asked me in Napa Valley, about you meeting someone.”

My pulse spikes, and my gaze flicks to Poppy before I can stop it, but I quickly yank it away, turning to bury my head in the pantry as I think about dinner. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Bailey doesn’t move from her spot in the kitchen. “And I think it would be really great if you did.”

“You do?”

“I do. I hate thinking of you all alone here. Well, not alone”—she looks at Poppy and smiles—“but you know what I mean. I want you to be happy.”

I turn back to look at her. “I am happy, honey.” I can’t help it—I glance at Poppy again, and my mouth tugs into a smile.Should I tell her?I try to transmit telepathically across the kitchen, and Poppy lifts a shoulder.

What the hell does that mean?

Bailey’s eyes narrow as they assess me closely. “Wait.Haveyou met someone?”

“I…” I take in my daughter’s hopeful expression, and know that no matter what, I can’t lie to her face. I won’t. “I have.”

But when I look back at Poppy, her eyes widen in panic.

Shit. I definitely need to talk to her before we have this conversation.

“What?!” Bailey claps her hands together in delight, glancing at Poppy. “Did you know about this?”

“Um…” Poppy shifts in her seat, looking uncomfortable. “I did.”

Bailey laughs. “Ugh, you two, keeping secrets!”

I wince, looking away. She has no idea.

“Well, tell me about her,” she says, pinching me lightly on the arm. “I want to meet her.” She looks at Poppy again. “Have you met her? Would I like her?”

Christ, this is getting out of hand.

“I… think you’d like her, yes,” Poppy says carefully.

---