Page 4 of Poppy Kisses (Return to Coal Haven #3)

Chapter Two

Poppy

If I sat in my car any longer and stared at this house, the renters would call the police on me.

I chewed on my lower lip.

This place was called the Perez house, thanks to the original contractor and occupant who’d lived here long ago.

He’d made it the classiest farmhouse around, with two stories and proud peaks on the roof.

Quaint shutters added to the homey feel, but overall, it had a run-down air to it. Still majestic, just old.

But it would be perfect. I could live here and work here. The patio would be ideal for those summer days when kids were going nuts inside. The overhang would provide enough shade to see our computer screens while the side of the house blocked the north wind.

It used to be Aunt Linda’s home before she married Darren. My grandparents had bought the place after Linda and Darren had moved out, and it was one of the several included in my grandma’s trust.

This house would go to me. If I was married for at least a year. I could live there now—if I was already married. I checked Linda’s message from weeks ago.

Linda: The renter is moving out at the end of May, and I’d like to have another renter in by the end of June.

I had no husband, yet I’d quit my job before I could get fired and left Wyoming on a wing and a prayer that I’d land a husband between now and the end of May. That was barely over a month away.

Of course that hadn’t been why I’d uprooted to start again. But it hadn’t not been the reason. The distant possibility of a decent home had been enough.

Yet, here I was, staying with Alder. He and Daisy had three spare bedrooms, but the one across from where I was sleeping was getting turned into a nursery.

Daisy wasn’t due for six months, but the clock was ticking.

I loved Daisy’s little girl and I enjoyed witnessing my brother get used to fatherhood through his stepdaughter, but I couldn’t overstay my welcome.

They’d only just rekindled a romance that hadn’t burned out since they’d been high school sweethearts.

Would Jensen and Hassie reconnect?

I couldn’t believe they had divorced. Jensen would’ve grown his hair to his waist and developed a taste for death metal if Hassie had wanted it.

His tidy home came to mind. Hassie had been a diehard horse girl, and Jensen had said she was a professional barrel racer. Yet there were no pictures of horses.

Didn’t he have a closet full of Ariats and a dressy pair of Tony Lamas? Wranglers and Carhartts? A set of chaps that he wore whether he rode a horse or not?

Jensen had grown up in the country, and his family ranched. To be with Hassie, he’d had to have adopted her rodeo lifestyle. There would be at least one picture of a horse and something made out of horseshoes somewhere in that tidy farmhouse.

I pushed Jensen out of my head for the millionth time. Every time I let my mind wander, it landed on his abs. I was better than that!

Western flair or not, he had a nice body. A pleasing, deep voice. Puberty had done that man all the favors. I’d been left with pimples, more freckles, and a set of hips that made pants shopping a challenge.

Thankfully, it was a mild spring, and I could wear short pants with elastic waists.

I’d recognize those freckles anywhere.

I had to close my eyes. My body had never reacted this way when he’d tease me about connecting the dots in fifth grade. In seventh grade, there had been that one time he’d said it and my stomach had gone all jelly wiggles, but I’d also gotten the flu pretty bad that year. Must’ve been that.

My phone pinged. I took one last wistful glance at the house.

The biggest bedroom was up in a corner, and it overlooked the expanse of property that came with the place.

Aunt Linda never used to let us in there, but I’d snuck in when she’d been tied up chatting with my parents or grandparents.

The windows were huge for such an old place, but they’d let in so much welcoming light.

I’d fallen in love. Grandma Annie must’ve known.

So why all the stipulations?

Irritation scratched across the back of my neck. I checked the message.

Debbie: Auggie’s dad wants to hire you.

“What?” I set the phone down and put the car in drive. I used voice control to ask the car to call Debbie.

“You made quite an impression, young lady,” Debbie playfully chided.

“I’m so lost. Why is Jensen calling about me?”

“He said you’re old friends.”

“I guess you could say that,” I muttered.

“Aren’t you? Oh god, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed he was telling the truth. I didn’t give him your information.”

“No. No, it’s fine. Yes, we were old friends, but that was all.

” Except on the playground when he and I used to square off for kickball.

He’d had a powerful kick, but I’d practiced twice as hard to kick farther.

Or when we had a group project, and he and I were the only ones pulling our weight.

When we’d laugh together while waiting for the bus.

Hassie’s mom always picked her up. Did they still live in town?

“He’s from Coal Haven?”

“I’m not sure he ever left.” I’d only been to his house once, after his dad’s funeral.

The place had been packed with mourners and I’d gone outside after I’d seen Jensen sneak out.

I’d found him sitting on a hillside. Hassie had avoided him much of the day as if dealing with the deep feelings of a friend losing a parent was an inconvenience, but we all dealt with the discomfort of loss differently.

I hadn’t liked seeing him by himself that day, so I’d sat with him.

We’d talked. No teasing. No joking around.

No boasting. I’d never felt closer to a friend than I had that day.

“Maybe he’s into you.”

I snort-laughed. “No. Trust me. I grew up with that man, and he had eyes for one girl only. Auggie is theirs.”

“He’s married? I’ve only ever dealt with him. I mean, Auggie talks about his mom and horses, but never like she’s around.”

“They’re divorced. You had to be there. Adoration like that doesn’t go away.

Since kindergarten, he said he was going to marry her.

He asked her out in third grade.” I used to get so annoyed.

Like, my dude, let the girl play The Ground is Lava.

Then I’d thought it was sweet in sixth grade when Hassie had started to see him as a maybe.

By the time my family had moved, I’d been glad to leave them and that toxic, one-sided romance behind me.

It’d been freeing to no longer be compared to Rodeo Barbie.

“If he wants to contact me, that’s fine.

” I wouldn’t go out of my way though. When it came to Jensen Hollis, he’d shown me that when he had eyes for someone, no one else’s feelings mattered as much.

We were adults now, but that hurt girl who’d been compared to Hassie and found short was still inside me.

Almost twenty years had passed. I should get over it. But one thing Jensen’s single focus had shown me was that he’d never have my best interests at heart.

* * *

Jensen

I parked in front of Alder’s house. He’d done some work on the outside over the spring. The flower beds were turned up and white tulips were blooming. The path to the front had been freshly swept, and the grass had been trimmed away from the stones leading to the steps into the house.

I got out and tugged the sleeves of my long-sleeved shirt down. At least I was wearing one this time when I was seeing Poppy. Even as kids, she hadn’t seen me without a shirt.

We’d been friends for years. Whenever I thought of elementary and middle, Poppy was there. She used to wear her hair pulled back or in a single brown braid with curls spinning out.

Would I get a similar cautious look when she answered the door?

I ran a hand over my short hair. It needed a trim. I hated feeling shaggy, and the longer it was, the more sawdust stuck to the strands. It was why I stayed clean-shaven no matter how much Hassie had gushed about the beards of the cowboys on the circuit.

Dusting off my pants and shirt, I made my way to the door. When I glanced up, the curtains fluttered. Satisfaction spread through me. Had she been watching?

I knocked on a solid metal door, warm from the sun. I tilted my head, but I heard no movement on the other side. Finally, the door creaked open six inches.

Poppy peered out. A pale-yellow cloud surrounded her pupil. She squinted in the daylight. “Hey.”

“How’s it going, four-ten?”

Her left cheek twitched. My old nickname from when she’d been stuck at four feet ten inches while I’d soared over five feet had seemed like a good icebreaker. I was a little over six feet, and she had to be only six or seven inches shorter than me now.

Uncertainty flooded me. Was I wrong about how close we’d been? That last time we’d really talked, when she’d kept me company on a side hill during one of the worst times of my life, had been shortly before she’d moved.

“Debbie said you wanted to talk?” She sounded cautious, like I was going to convince her she could get rich on the latest multilevel marketing scheme.

“I need your help.” There. I came out with it. As embarrassing as this was, it was better than another grocery store incident. Yet the sense that she’d turn around and tell me to drive off hung heavy in the fresh spring air between us.

The door swung a little wider.

Yes.

“What can I help you with?” she asked.

Embarrassment flooded my chest, puffing it up. I wished I could float away from it. If I couldn’t talk to Poppy about this, then who? Debbie might help, but I hadn’t tried asking her. I’d figure out why later. “My business.”

Her brows drew together. Once Hassie had said that she was glad she didn’t have plain brown hair like Poppy. I might’ve been thirteen, but even I had noticed the way some of her strands sparkled like spun gold against the darker brown.