Page 37 of Touch My Shelves

I grin and give her a hopeful smile. “Yeah, it is funner when you’re there.”

The corners of her mouth lift. She sighs heavily and nods, but I think it’s the last place she wants to be. And that hurts because it’s my fault. “Well, if you’re sure.”

“Yes!” Freeya cheers and claps.

Poppy is quiet throughout the meal. Freeya is her usual chatterbox self and doesn’t notice.

“And then Poppy added more salt until the mountains looked more like mountains instead of lakes,” Freeya continues her detailed description.

“I see.”

One of the reasons Poppy had given for moving their classroom to the carriage house was the creation of a relief map of Freeya’s latest fantasy world. I haven’t been allowed to see it yet. “I hope this project isn’t taking too much time away from your studies.”

Avoiding eye contact with me, Poppy says, “We’re actually ahead of schedule with her school work.”

“And Poppy is even teaching me to cook. We made oatmeal and chocolate cookies.”

My brow shoots up as I look over at Poppy. “And why didn’t I get any?”

There was a time when they would have interrupted my work to sample their cookies. Now Poppy won’t even look my way or do more than answer my questions with the least number of words possible.

I’m an asshole and I fucked up.

“Poppy said we should let you work. Besides, we gave some to Chef Claude and Mrs. Ballard, and they said they were delicious.”

“Well, next time, I’d like some,” I reply, my heart sinking because I wasn’t one of the chosen few.

Freeya turns to Poppy. “Can we make more, Poppy? Maybe some with nuts. Those are Dad’s favorite.”

Poppy grins at my daughter. “I suppose we’d need to see if Chef Claude has the ingredients before we make plans.”

“Can I go now and ask?” Freeya begs.

I nod and she sprints from the room, leaving Poppy and me in awkward silence. I want to say something. At least try to explain again, but I did such a fucked up job the first time. I sigh audibly. What could I say? Sorry about putting the brakes on a sexual relationship that we both wanted and freaking out when I realized you would be moving out of the castle and having a life that would never include me or Freeya?

I’ll never forget her taste, the feel of sinking into her body, or how having her in my arms makes everything better.

Frustrated at knowing I did the right thing, but wishing we could go back to the way we were before all that fucked-up shit came out of my mouth, I pick up the teapot and knock over the carafe of water. It topples and water flows like a river across the table toward Poppy. She freezes, her eyes fixed on the deluge as it rushes towards her. I grab napkins and throw them on the quickly approaching flood, but not before the first wave goes over the waterfall edge of the table and empties right on Poppy’s lap.

“Oh, my God!” she shrieks and jumps up, upsetting her chair, which falls over with a loud bang.

“I’m so sorry, Poppy.”

“I’m wet!”

She gasps, recognizing what she said. I stop trying to blot the water as silence reigns and, from the corner of my eye, I catch her gaze. It starts out as a grin, which turns into a smile, and then we’re both laughing out loud. Her face lights up and her cheeks flame the pretties shade of pink… and the knots that had been living in my stomach begin to unfurl. For the first time, I’m hopeful we can get past the roadblock I put up between us.

I lower my voice and say, “I like you wet.”

Her face falls and she takes a step back. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Sullivan, I need to change. I don’t want to be late starting Freeya’s lessons,” she says sharply and walks out of the breakfast room leaving me with a handful of waterlogged napkins.

Mr. Sullivan? She’s never called me that. That’s pretty severe.

I grin. She was so flustered she didn’t even remember Freeya’s lessons don’t start until in the morning.

I chuckle and sink to my seat. She’s not as unaffected as she’d like me to believe.

CHAPTER 13

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