Page 67 of Special Delivery
‘We weren’tnotspeaking, Poppy. I just hadn’t timed my coffee runs very well. I was definitely still speaking to you, I just hadn’tseenyou.’
‘Okay, well, do you want to come help fix my laundry shelf?’
‘Nope.’
Poppy groaned.
‘Kidding!’ James laughed. ‘I’m on the early shift tomorrow so I could pop over in the afternoon?’
‘That works.’ Poppy made a mental note to clean the kitchen. Or actually—should she leave it dirty for maximumfriends-without-benefits vibes? Oh far out, she had no idea what she wanted. ‘See you tomorrow then,’ she said.
‘See you then,’ agreed James. He clicked off and Poppy watched her phone go blank.
‘Dada!’ cried Maeve delightedly, pointing at the phone.
Poppy grimaced, sinking under a tsunami of too many feelings that made no sense. She picked up a wet cloth and wrapped it around her daughter’s chubby fingers. ‘Maeve,’ she said sternly as she began wiping off the orange puree, ‘please never say that in public.’
CHAPTER 30
James was wearing a tool belt. His hair was tousled from the breeze and the curves of his biceps were visible under his sweatshirt as he stood at her door.
‘Is this a joke?’ asked Poppy, eyeing the belt. ‘The rest of the Village People couldn’t make it?’
‘There was an emergency at the YMCA.’
Poppy moved aside to let him in. ‘I randomly always had a thing for the policeman.’
James locked eyes with her and raised an eyebrow. ‘Noted.’
Poppy felt a familiar heat tingling up her spine. She wrenched her gaze away to break the current. ‘Follow me.’
She led the way down the hall into the laundry, where the shelf hung at a forty-five-degree angle—completely useless for shelving things, but entirely useful for assessing the laws of gravity. For lack of any other shelf, she had piled her laundry detergents into the space where the slope of the shelf met the wall, creating a V-shaped stack of washing liquids.
‘I see how this could be a problem for you,’ said James.
‘Suboptimal,’ Poppy agreed. ‘I call it my Cleaning Tower of Pisa.’
‘I would call it a clear lack of shelf-preservation,’ said James.
Poppy smiled. ‘I’ve been a bit shelf-destructive.’
His laugh was wonderful. The way his face broke into a broad grin, it was like dropping an Alka-Seltzer into water. Making him laugh made her fizz with pride. It was always better than she expected.
‘It needs some shelf-care,’ continued James, turning back to the wall.
Poppy smirked. ‘Are we going to do this all afternoon?’
James shrugged. ‘I have no shelf-control.’ They grinned at each other like fools, before he added, ‘Especially around you.’
Poppy felt her grin melt and she was suddenly hyper-aware that James wasn’t blinking. She quickly looked away.
‘Like I said, I’m getting the dryer installed on Monday so the shelf needs to be fixed before then. If you don’t think you can do it, I’m sure my dad and I can manage.’
‘Poppy, please don’t underestimate my prowess with a drill.’ James pulled a pencil from his belt, stuck it behind his ear, and Poppy watched as he pulled out a tape measure to calculate the height between the floor and the shelf. It was highly irrational, but she was feeling majorly turned on.
‘You don’t have to do this,’ Poppy said for the hundredth time. (They’d been texting about it all last night.)
‘I know,’ said James. ‘But I’ve been around enough kids to know that as soon as Maeve can try to use this as a ski jump, she will.’
