Page 81 of Falling Into Forever
I fight back a chuckle.
Poppy and her lack of need for personal space don’t allow it for long, though. She reaches out with her legs and draws herself to Saylor like a spider monkey.
Saylor’s face has turned a scary shade of gray as she wraps her arms around Poppy. Not that Poppy gave her any choice as she tries to lock her legs around Saylor. I’ll take it as a win that she didn’t immediately drop the little girl.
But even grouchy Saylor is no match for Poppy and her lack of boundaries. I watch in amusement as Poppy leans in and plants kisses all over Saylor’s scrunched-up face.
“Poppy, give Saylor some space,” Lena says, but it falls on deaf ears. Poppy is in her full-on look-at-me phase.
“You is more pwetty than your pictures,” Poppy gushes, and Saylor holds my niece’s gaze.
Disbelief forms in the wrinkle between Saylor’s brows—always the skeptic. I told her she’s always been a part of my life.
“You’ve seen pictures of me?”
Poppy shifts, blocking Saylor’s face from view. Lena stands at my shoulder, and we watch the two most important girls in my life meet for the first time.
“Yup.” Poppy pops her P with a flourish. “Unca’s gots them eveywheres. Ev—ery—wheres. His desk and his bed and his walls and his money holder and…”
“Okay, there, motormouth,” I say, pulling Poppy away from Saylor and resting her on my hip. “We should get going.” I nod toward the paparazzi, and Lena flinches.
“I only checked one bag. It should be…oh, there it is.” She runs forward and hauls the large suitcase off the carousel, and she’s back a second later with open arms and pulling Saylor in for a hug.
Yeah, this will be an adjustment for Saylor, and that thought makes my teeth ache from the sweetness of it all.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Saylor.”
“Ah, okay,” Saylor replies with a pale face. “You too?”
Lena breezes right over her discomfort as Saylor takes bags from her hands.
“Dante has talked about you nonstop for years, so I feel like I already know you. I’m sorry we’re crashing into your lives like this. And for that phone call a few days ago.” Lena is uncharacteristically jumpy and stares down at her feet. “I wasn’t at my best. I can usually hold myself together better than that.”
Saylor shocks me when she places a firm hand on Lena’s forearm, halting her forward motion. Saylor’s body tenses like she’s shocked herself too. “It was a terribly traumatic experience,” she says in a solid, kind tone. “Dante would have been worried if you didn’t react like that.”
Then she pulls back just as quickly as she’d reached out. Her finger dances across her thigh again, and a little more color drains from her face. She said I would have been worried, but her expression says she would have been too.
Lena’s eyes fill with moisture, and she takes a step back. “Thank you. For that. And for all of this. We’ll try to stay out of your way so you can write. Poppy doesn’t exactly make a peaceful environment.”
“Actually,” I start, then shift Poppy to my back so I can take Lena’s suitcase in one hand while holding Saylor’s in my other. Poppy clutches my neck and restricts my breathing. I didn’t quite think this through.
“You fool. I’ve got this,” Lena says, taking the suitcase back so I can prop Poppy up with one arm.
“Sorry.” I shrug.
She chuckles and pats my bicep. “Lead the way,” she says, pointing in front of her.
“But what I was going to say is”—I glance to my right to gauge her reaction as we walk toward the exit—“you’re going to stay with Saylor’s best friend, Grady. Well, not in his house, exactly. He has an apartment above his garage. It’s secluded and secure and only a few miles from us. It’s the best we can do, Lena. The closest hotel is forty minutes away, and Saylor’s guest room isn’t big enough for the both of you.”
“Whatever you think is best. I trust you.” She has always taken things in stride, but there’s a fragility to her tone today, presumably because Trent has thrown her off-balance.
Saylor surprises me by squeezing my hand, so I return the gesture before releasing it and pulling her close. I drape my arm over her shoulders while I remove Poppy from my back and tuck her into my side, shielding her from the photogs.
The four of us huddle together as we exit the safety of the terminal and push through the throng of photographers. Thankfully, JFK is used to this, and security arrives within seconds to escort us to my rental car.
They stand guard while I buckle Poppy into her car seat, then we all slip into the SUV and drive home. There’s a war brewing, but I also can’t shake the sense that this is exactly where we’re all meant to be.
Together.
