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Chapter five

Under the Same Umbrella

D ear Abby, Poppy thought as they walked. Is it possible to die of UST? Asking for a friend.

Over the past several days, she had told herself that she’d just imagined how roguishly attractive Rai was.

She’d been single for a long time now, without time or energy to get out and meet people, and so it was perfectly normal that her lonely soul and starving hormones had built up her random encounter with a random toilet paper salesman to epic proportions.

There was no way his smile had been that bright, his eyes that clear.

His hair could not possibly have flowed like a Mucha poster of a Greek god, and there was no human being on earth who could look as good in a soaked button-down as she remembered.

He was probably just an ordinary-looking guy who, okay, had made her laugh until her sides ached, and dammit she’d been trying to convince herself he wasn’t all that and circled all the way back around to the fact that his uninhibited laughter—which she knew she hadn’t made up—was sexier than any of the fantasy features she’d imagined.

She’d date the damn Swamp Thing if it laughed like that .

But all of that aside, she had not expected to run into Rai again, and she had absolutely not been prepared for him to be as gorgeous, charming, and deliciously wet as she’d remembered.

She had to admit that she’d hoped—which was why she’d worn her favorite green shirt, the one that always made her feel good about herself—but she’d mocked herself for it at the same time.

And now, here he was. Walking beside her, his arm bare inches from hers, smelling like sin, and she was going to die. Especially if she had to listen to him roll the word pleasure around in his mouth again like a fucking Godiva chocolate.

He’s only with you for the umbrella, she told herself fiercely. Just shelter from the storm, and then he’s going to leave again and not ask for your number. And also, does this dude have zero boundaries? Because—

“Have you been well?” He had turned his head to look at her, intent.

“Fine,” she said. “Just peachy.”

He cocked his head. “Like a peach? In what way?”

“Uh…” Was he serious? “You know, it’s all yummy fun and games till you get to the pit.”

That won her the laugh lottery—she didn’t know how, it was a terrible joke—and oh, the afternoon sun loved his face, painting gorgeous shadows and glittering off droplets of water in his eyebrows, and yep, there was the gleam she’d been expecting, right off one ever-so-slightly crooked tooth.

So they weren’t perfectly straight, after all.

And then he settled into an easy grin and met her eyes again.

“It is good to see you again. I have missed you.”

Holy fuck. Who says stuff like that out loud to a virtual stranger? How am I supposed to respond? “Did you know that peach pits contain cyanide?” Ah, with inane trivia. Good job, Poppy.

“I did not know that.” He seemed actually interested.

Which apparently opened the floodgates on her inanity.

“So, um, if you swallowed one it…probably wouldn’t kill you, not just one, except you know the swallowing would hurt because peach pits are big and…

and rough, but if you ate four or five it could get bad, and if you ground it up then it would be more effective and…

and it’s good to see you, too.” Oh, god, he was going to think she was a lunatic.

“So technically you could murder someone with a bag of peaches.”

“Interesting,” he said instead of fleeing from the crazy lady, all nonchalance. “Will you be purchasing peaches at the store? Are we planning a murder? ”

“No,” Poppy said, relaxing into a laugh. “Not today, at least.”

“Tomorrow, then.” He reached a hand into the rain, cupping his palm to gather sun-sparkling raindrops. The sight sent a zing of lightning through her chest.

“I love it when it rains like this,” she blurted without thinking.

He looked at her again, letting the gathered rain fall from his hand. “Like what?”

“With the sun shining. The way the rain…” They had reached Grant; she paused and pushed the button for the crosswalk, and he paused with her, his stormy eyes fixed on her face.

“It was raining like this when I moved out here. I was driving my U-Haul into town, and right when I pulled off the interstate, the sun came out and made the raindrops shine like diamonds. I thought it might be a good omen, a sign that things were going to be better here.” She stopped herself there, taking a deep breath.

Not a good can of worms to open on a second chance meeting.

“You are pink again,” Rai said, and his cool wet thumb brushed her hot cheek before she could react. And then she did react, except to her own surprise it was by leaning forward not away, chasing that coolness for just a second before he drew his hand back, regarding her steadily.

She was one hundred percent going to die. Just keel over right here on the side of the road. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m being weird.” The walk signal flipped on, and she gratefully started across the street.

“Mm,” Rai said, matching her stride. “So being…weird…makes your face pink.”

“It’s embarrassment, okay?” Among other things.

“Have I embarrassed you?”

“Yes.”

He snickered. “Good.”

“Hey!”

“I like when you are pink.”

She was probably full-on red by now. With blotches. “Remind me why I’m sharing my umbrella with you?”

“Because,” he said solemnly, “it is good to see me.”

“Oh, you heard that?”

“I was listening.”

“Good boy.”

He slanted her a pouty glance that made her weak in the knees. “I am no boy. ”

Oh, definitely not. What you are is lethal. “Yes, of course. Manly man, award in the mail, been there, done that, got the T-shirt.” Time to change the subject. “So, how is work going?”

“Very fruitful,” Rai said, cheerful again. “Like a peach.”

They reached the far side of the street, and Poppy turned in the direction of the supermarket. “You are not going to let that go, are you?”

“Will you murder me if I do not?”

“Maybe.”

“Excellent.”

The rain was still going strong; Poppy told herself that was why she was slowing her steps, to stay safe on the wet pavement, but even she didn’t believe it.

She’d always been a crappy liar, even when she was lying to the most gullible person in the universe, herself.

No, she was walking slower, despite the fact that her mother was probably already worried, because once they reached the grocery store, this would be over, this little bubble of banter and—admittedly one-sided—attraction under her umbrella.

She’d be inside doing her shopping, and he would… What would he do?

It wouldn’t be this. And she liked this, whatever it was.

He was solid and comfortably sized beside her—not overwhelmingly large, or so tall she’d get a crick in her neck looking at him, but she liked being able to look up just a little at his laughing eyes.

And he didn’t seem to mind being close to her under the umbrella—the six-inch space she’d tried to maintain to be polite had narrowed to three, then two, but in a casual, non-invasive way, like he was just…

Well, there was that word again, comfortable.

And while she was pretty sure he was flirting with her, it was playful.

Not aggressive. So either he had a game of n-dimensional flirtation chess going to hide his nefarious intentions or he truly was that easygoing and friendly.

And if he was trying to trick her, the whole no-texting thing was an incredibly long game. Like a glacier.

Poppy sucked at chess; if he was doing strategic maneuvers, she wasn’t going to realize he was playing her until he had her in checkmate, so she might as well enjoy the flirtation, with appropriate precautions. Keep it light and cheerful until it was time to say goodbye.

Even if that was five minutes from now.

It wasn’t until they had made it under the concrete overhang of their destination and Poppy had folded the umbrella that Rai realized his mistake.

Unlike their previous haven, this shop was large and bustling, with numerous people moving in and out the wide sliding doors.

And now that they were no longer hiding under the umbrella, Poppy had taken a step away rather than huddling close to stay out of the rain.

He could call an actual flood, and it would do nothing to further their acquaintance at all.

And she was smiling at him like the sun that was now setting, just as bright and just as final. “There,” she said cheerily. “You’re safe and sound.”

“My thanks,” he said, trying not to sound ungrateful.

“So…I guess this is it?” Her smile faltered.

He refused to answer, instead peering through the shop doors. The interior was bright with artificial lighting, and from what he could see was vast and cavernous. “Is this where you will buy the peaches to kill me?” The faintest hint of an idea rippled in his head.

She rolled her eyes. “Please, speak up so there are plenty of witnesses to my dastardly murder scheme.” She strode to a row of nested metal cages on wheels and yanked one free.

He followed her and put on his most imperious glare. “Perhaps,” he said haughtily, “I should ensure that your wicked plan is foiled.”

“And how will you do that? Hmm?” Her words were teasing, but there was an odd, soft light in her eyes and her smile had deepened.

He shook his head in mock sadness. “I fear I must remain by your side. It is the only way.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her smile fading. “You don’t have to do this,” she said at last.

He blinked. “Of course I do not.” He eyed her curiously. “Do you not desire my company?”

“Of course I…” She shrugged, glancing away. “I just figured you had better things to do with your evening.”

He cast a glance out at the skies. Without his attention, the localized storm was already dissipating. He had a moment’s concern, debating whether he should make his way south again, find another lake to rest in, but the air still felt quite humid, and the night was young. He had time. “I do not.”

“I should warn you,” she said. “I am going to spend the whole time doing math in my head and comparison shopping.”

“Must I do math as well?” He remembered learning to count, but he hadn’t done sums for years. Possibly decades.

“No,” she said with a little chuckle.

“Then I shall enjoy it.” He gave her his most winning smile. “I am quite strong and can carry a great deal of toilet paper. Please allow me to bear your burdens.”

“Well, that’s an offer I can’t refuse.” She laughed. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Thank you!” He essayed a courtly little bow in her direction.

“And apparently I’m crazy, too.” She gave the wheeled basket a little shove in his direction. “You can push the cart.”

He grinned and set his hands on the obvious handle, testing the way the basket rolled and steered. Much easier than a storm cloud. “It will be my pleasure.”

She took in a deep breath and let it out. “The pleasure,” she said deliberately, “is absolutely mine.”

With that, she turned and approached the doors, which slid open for her as if they were magic; an electric tingle in Rai’s nerves told him how the “magic” happened.

It was honestly fascinating; he could toss lightning about like a child’s plaything, but humans, who could not so much as touch a lightning bolt without perishing, had somehow still managed to harness its power for a thousand different purposes.

Perhaps he could convince Poppy to explain it to him later, once she was done hurrying.

He followed her inside, ready for an adventure.