Chapter 14

Poppy

I take the last sip of my pumpkin-spiced latte.

Shit, it ' s finished already. Well, that ' s a new record chug of my morning fuel. We ' ve got a busy day, one that cannot include my drama.

"So, we have…" I begin tapping on the tablet to bring up Julian's schedule. "On Monday, you're meeting with the R I just need to dangle some bait. If he thinks a suit is sexy, it might be easier for me to get him into one.

"I know what you're doing."

I feign ignorance and go back to reading the tablet. "Wednesday is your international ‘ charm their pants off ' with the defense contractors from Europe. Try not to start World War III, okay?"

He tips his head back and lets loose a deep laugh. I love it when he laughs freely like this. "Charm their pants off?" he repeats.

I nod. "It's with Levi Perry; you need to win him over. We need to get those contracts signed to get into Europe. So, charm the pants off him," I smirk.

"Thursday, you have a board meeting to discuss the quarterly financials and strategic investments. And on Friday, you're the keynote speaker at the International Arms and Security Conference. And next week, we have to fly to D.C. You ' re presenting to the Secretary of Defense. Did you go over the slides I sent you?"

I look up at Julian, waiting for his acknowledgment. " Did I overwhelm you?" I ask, feeling the weight of the empty coffee cup in my hand. " I drank too fast. Get ready for Poppy on jitters," I joke, then I bobble my head like a bobblehead doll on a dashboard. I can ' t help it; being stupid and silly with or without Harper comes naturally.

Julian doesn ' t laugh, but he does smile. It ' s slow and sweet like he ' s savoring the first and last bite of a dessert. " I love you," he says.

I officially slam down the brakes and stop wobbling my head. I freeze in my chair. I still feel giddy when he says that. I should raise my hand and pinch my forearm to see if this is real. I lower my head, hiding my grin. " I love you, too."

He ' s been taking extra care to show me just how much he loves me. Being violated, having something stolen or pillaged from you, well, that ' s one monster you have to fight, but the aftermath is another. There ' s learning how to trust again, struggling not to fear, and acquainting yourself with your body and how it has changed. Innocence is lost, but that doesn ' t mean your future has to be adrift too.

It ' s taken me a long time to realize this and accept it. I can ' t change the past, but I can change my future.

That ' s just me; It ' s not Julian or Harper. The people I care about have to learn how to come to terms with what happened, too. It's important to remember that.

I worried to the point of utter unrest that Julian would not touch me the way he had. He ' d hesitate and check and question every blink or gesture I made when we had sex. I worried he ' d see me as this fragile, broken vase, set me aside, too scared to use again.

I ' ve witnessed his silence when he thinks I ' m not watching, his eyes growing distant, plotting. I ' ve seen his eyes searching mine to make sure I know I ' m loved and cared for. These past few days, he has shown my body and my soul what love with respect is.

He ' s given me time in the sense that he hasn ' t spoken Andrew ' s name again. Harper hasn ' t, either. It ' s like Julian and her have a secret club I ' m not invited to regarding the case.

I should want to know. Maybe I ' m still running as I choose to focus on work and not what Andrew has continued to do. Even if I am running, it ' s more like a relay race. Other people have my back, and my shoes have never felt lighter.

With a clearing of his throat, Julian straightens, then it ' s back to business. " Can we reschedule the D.C. meeting?"

" No," I deadpan. " You might be CEO, but this is with the Secretary of Defense. They call us, not the other way around."

He rubs his jaw again, his eyes looking distant, " If I ever left this job, would you follow me?"

Um… say what? " What?" I lower the schedule to my lap.

His hand drops, and now he ' s looking right at me. " If I left my job as CEO, would you come with me?"

I feel like he wants a simple answer, but this is a loaded question. I sink my teeth into my lip, a nervous habit that probably just smudged my lipstick. Ugh.

" Yes," I reply honestly. I have no clue where this is coming from, but I can literally see the tension easing off his shoulders. " But, fair warning: left to my own devices—" I give the tablet in my hand a little shake for emphasis, " without meetings to orchestrate, research to bury myself in, or schedules to micromanage, you might just find me unbearable. I color code," I confess, as though it's a sin. " Everything. You ' ve never ventured into my drawers, have you? They ' re organized with military precision, every item folded, psycho style, and then arranged by color." I purse my lips, bracing for his reaction.

" I even went so far as to label my panty drawer. What can I say? You might be right. I might just love my label maker more than your cock."

He makes a whispered snorting sound as he tries to cover up his laugh, and then he looks up at me, his eyes full of lust. The kind of desire that has my insides spiraling down a slide so they can land directly on his lap.

" What kind of labels?" he asks, his face flushed. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, his fingers nervously fiddling with the fabric.

I shrug. " You know, all the sexy stuff. Thongs, crotchless, granny panties."

"Is that an invitation to take a look?" he asks, his voice dropping to a huskier tone.

" By all means, but don't say I didn't warn you. The granny panties are high-rise; I'm taking up to my tits sexy."

He shakes his head; his grin stretches from ear to ear. " Did I mention how much I love you?"

" You say that now," I smirk.

***

"Is it Friday yet?" I mutter as the elevator slowly inches up. I grimace as I look down at my shoes. Why did I do it? I shake my head. My feet are killing me. I knew this would happen, but I still wore the heels to work.

Why don ' t men have to suffer like this? No, they get to wear flat shoes with nice arched soles while we parade on stilts, trying to walk in a sexy, straight line.

"We fly out on Sunday, remember?" Julian adds.

"I know. I still need to pack." Looks like I'll be packing bandages for my feet now.

"I told you we should have canceled the meeting," he adds as he pulls his tie free from his neck.

I sigh, "And miss a chance to fly on your jet again? Not happening," I kid.

The elevator dings open, and we make our way to Julian's apartment. My eyes find the door to mine. A shiver runs down my spine, and my feet slow to a crawl. I haven ' t been back inside since they found the cameras.

Each step closer to his door heightens my anxiety, my mind replaying the violation of my privacy. The walls seem to close in, and my breathing becomes shallow. I can't shake the fear that someone is still watching, waiting for me to let my guard down.

"Do you want me to get anything?" Julian offers. His eyes know exactly what I'm thinking sometimes.

"No, I ' m fine. Harper packed a lot of stuff," I reply, looking long at my door.

Harper packed me a bag so I didn ' t have to go back inside. Speaking of Harper, she ' s been unusually content as she crashes at Kent ' s place. I know if I push her into telling me about what ' s going on between her and Kent, she will only run faster. So, I ' m waiting for her to come to me. In the meantime, she told me she ' s using her vacation hours to take time off work so she can help Daniel with the Andrew issue.

I swallow, "I don ' t know if I can go back inside there, Julian."

He steps closer to me. "You don ' t have to. Shit, I should have thought about this sooner, but if you don ' t want to stay in the building, we don ' t have to either. We can move anywhere you want."

"Like officially move in together?"

"Have you seen my kitchen? I can never let you go, Pumpkin. I can ' t go back to living in a label-free apartment." He smiles, and his grey eyes look lighter, like clouds after a rain shower.

I giggle. "Thanks," I needed to laugh. I needed to allow Julian to chase away my fears. I also needed to know he didn't think I went overboard, even if I knew I did; I just got carried away in the evening after two glasses of wine. My fingers felt loose, and I kept making labels.

With his hand on my lower back, we continue down the hall, passing by my door like it ' s not even there. He unlocks his door, looking inside before he allows me to enter. The clanging of pots and pans echoes from his kitchen.

Julian grins.

"What ' s going on?" I ask with apprehension.

"Harper wanted to surprise you," he whispers.

"Kent! What the hell? You're doing it completely wrong. Can ' t you read?" Harper shouts.

"I did read it, woman!" Kent growls.

Julian grimaces, "It might not be a good surprise."

I chuckle. "Did you let Harper in your kitchen?"

His brow rises, "I ' m guessing that wasn ' t wise?"

I can ' t help but giggle as I clutch my stomach. "Well, the building is still standing…for now. Did I forget to tell you we had to move dorms because she set the first room we got on fire?"

Julian's eyes widen, and he begins to rush towards his kitchen. I follow behind him but stop in my tracks once we reach it. Holy lord. Every cabinet, which I organized and labeled, is open. A bag of flour has been knocked over on the floor; footprints are stomped through it and then carried out like a crime scene all over the room.

"Is that an egg on the wall?" I mutter. Behind Kent ' s head is the stain of egg yolk with some broken shells stuck to the wall.

"What the hell?" Julian groans as he tugs at his hair.

It gets worse, though. The oven is on, but the door is wide open. You can feel the heat from it filling the room like a sauna.

"You ' re beating the eggs all wrong," Harper snaps at Kent. "It says beat, not probe the spoon around like you ' re poking a dead body. Clearly, someone failed anatomy; get your hands in there."

"I know anatomy just fine. I'll prove it to you later, and I'll shove my hand 'in there,' too." Kent nudges his eyes towards her body.

Harper grabs the spoon from him and the bowl then tries to beat the eggs. Kent smacks her ass. She lets out a squeak, but she smiles. It ' s wide and…oh my! She ' s in love.

I want to jump, but I keep my feet planted on the ground.

Julian clears his throat.

Kent and Harper look up. "Shit!" Harper replies, "Julian, it's not ready yet!" She grabs the cupcake pan and starts shoving the batter inside, totally forgoing the cupcake liners, but I don ' t have the heart to tell her. We ' re going to have to peel them out with spoons because I know she didn ' t spray the pan with non-stick spray, either. Watching Harper in the kitchen is like watching a child finger-paint for the first time. It doesn ' t make sense, but you're so proud you hang it up.

Kent dips his finger into the bowl, then licks it clean.

"Stop," Harper growls at him as she swats his ass.

"I ' m hungry. We worked up an appetite. I can ' t just fuck all day and not eat, woman. I need food."

Harper glances at me. Her eyes secretly said, 'I was going to tell you.'

I smile. I ' m happy, so, so happy for her.

She finishes filling the pan and then puts it in the oven. Then she begins to walk towards me. "You gotta close the oven door, girlie," I whisper.

"Oh," she shrugs, then turns and kicks the door closed. It bangs so hard I'm shocked the glass door didn't shatter.

"Watch it," Julian chides.

"That was so sexy, Siren," Kent mutters.

"Stop calling me that," Harper rolls her eyes. She opens her arms and hugs me. "We ' re baking."

"I can see that," I laugh, "Why?"

"I wanted to make you something special. I know your skills are that of a child in the kitchen, but you can bake those box cupcakes so well. I thought it would be easy," she wipes the back of her forehead, "It ' s exhausting."

" I know," I grin as I reach up to wipe flour off her cheek.

"Is that an egg on my wall?" Julian asks. He still hasn ' t moved from the entryway. The kitchen is a shocking sight to behold.

"Yeah. Kent pissed me off. He ' ll clean it up." Harper admits.

I look at the mess on the floor, "If you had a box that ' s basically pre-made, then why do you have a bag of flour?"

"Well, I tried to make it from scratch. I wanted to do something next-level and all," she glances down, but her cheeks start to grow rosy.

"How did it get on the floor? Let me guess, Kent annoyed you." I say.

She bites her lip, "Something like that."

I ' ve seen that look. Guilty as charged. I lean closer, "Did you…please tell me you didn ' t…in the kitchen!" I'm going to have to bleach the countertops.

She looks over her shoulder. Julian is laying into Kent, who is laughing, and then she grins. "We avoided the countertops. I might be wild, but I ' m not a filthy animal. You can have spontaneous sex while avoiding the countertops."

" Oh my god, Harper! Stop! I don ' t want to know." I cover my ears.

She tugs at my hands. " Yes, you do. Let ' s just say it ' s mind-blowing. Hopefully, Julian got the same genes as Kent."

" Please stop." I try to avoid this subject. " Did you set a timer?"

" No, I ' m not insane. Why would I time how long our sex is?"

I close my eyes. " How can you be so brilliant yet so…daft? Did you set a timer for the cupcakes?"

" Oh," she waves her hands. " Shouldn ' t the oven beep or something?"

" You almost burned down our first dorm room by relying on a beeping sound. Fire alarms beep, not ovens. You need to set a timer, Harper."

***

I was right; we all had to sit around the table and dig out the cupcakes with our spoons. They tasted…well; it ' s hard to mess up a pre-made box when you just have to add ingredients, but Harper managed it. We all just took one bite before Julian ordered dinner and dessert.

The guys are cleaning up as Harper and I sit with a glass of wine and look out over the city of Dallas at night.

" I quit my job," Harper says, then she raises her glass and takes a large sip.

" Why?" I ' m not shocked. I knew she was lying about using vacation time.

" Daniel offered me something I couldn't refuse." She looks into the glass like it ' s a vast ocean.

" But you loved working for the NSA."

She nods. " I did, but you know me, I need a challenge."

" You headed a whole division."

" I know," she flips her hair back, " It was turning me prematurely gray. Not a sexy look on me. Grey clashes with my tan."

I snort and take a sip, then ask her seriously, " Did you do this for me? Because of Andrew."

She grinds her teeth at the mention of his name. " Yes and no. Daniel and I spoke, and he ' s got, well, I can ' t talk about it, but what he ' s offering will keep me busy. Maybe even happy." Her voice lowers as her eyes find Kent, who ' s wiping the egg yolk off the wall.

Then it clicks, " Wait, are you moving to Dallas?" I gasp, jumping off my seat.

" I don ' t know. I ' m still ironing it out with Daniel, but I think I can work some of it remotely."

I reach for her hand. " I want you to be happy. If working with Daniel for the CIA won ' t make you happy, then walk away."

She keeps looking at Kent. " I am happy. That ' s what I ' m scared of." She takes another sip, scratch that, and she downs half the glass.

" I know what you mean, but ask yourself this. Can you live well, unhappy, and away from Kent?"

" I could." She replies quickly.

I shake my head. " Could you live , Harper, not just survive but live?" I lean closer to her. " You ' ve been surviving for years. It ' s time to live."

Slowly, she nods. " I hate it when you say wise things. It makes me feel old. Where did the days go when both of us just did and said stupid things?"

I raise my glass. " Trust me, we still do stupid things; we just grew up to realize it now." I clang my glass against hers. " Don ' t do a stupid thing and run from something special, Harper."