Page 25 of Pucking Sweet

I spin around and glare up at Morrow. Goddamn it, why does he have to be so handsome? He’s rocking the whole biracial heartthrob look with his stupid cool haircut that fades up the sides, and his perfect stubbled jaw. His medium brown skin has a bronze glow from our time at the beach this weekend. Meanwhile, I’m this pasty white Canadian asshole who can’t tan. I just burn.

I glance between them again. “You’re neighbors?”

He smirks down at me. “Yep.”

“It’s only temporary,” Poppy says. “Colton just needs to get with a realtor so he can scope out some places. Oh, I was meaning to ask you, honey. Do you need help with any of that?” I know she’s not talking tomein that sweet tone. No, I’m just Novy the fuckup. Novy the pig with the sex contracts she has to scold and sigh at andsuffer through.

“You want to help me?” Morrow asks.

“With finding a realtor,” she clarifies. “I don’t want to cut in or anything. I just wanted to offer since…you know.” Her tone changes, more somber now, and I glance between them again.

“Well,Idon’t know,” I say into the void.

“It’s not important,” Morrow mutters, keeping me firmly locked out of what now feels like a private conversation. Which is frankly a bit annoying, seeing asIwas the one in her office with the door mostly closed when he charged in here carrying that stupid fucking plant. “I’ll just see you at home, Poppy,” he says. “Sorry I interrupted, and thanks again for the granola.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” she calls as he ducks out, leaving the door cracked.

I give the air in the room a moment to settle. We had a lead balloon vibe in here I was quite happy with. Morrow had to go and ruin it with his positivity and general goodness. “So…when’s the wedding?”

Poppy looks up from her phone. “What?”

“You and Morrow.” I hate myself for putting the idea into her head, but apparently that’s not going to stop me from diving in with both feet. “I sensed a little something there just now.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh, I’m ridiculous? You make him granola and he buys you office plants. Tit for tat.”

“He’s just being nice.”

“Nice? I’m nice, and I didn’t bring you an office plant.”

“You’re calculating,” she retorts. “There’s a difference. Colton does favors just to do them. You would only ever do me a favor as part of your carefully calculated exchange program. Tit for tat.”

Well, fuck me. That felt a little too on target. “So, what’s next? You gonna find him a realtor?”

“Probably,” she says with a shrug, eyes still on her phone.

I hate that I’m losing her attention. She’s done with me, moving on. Pretty soon, I’ll be as useful to her as the damn filing cabinet.

I sit forward in this stupid squeaky chair. “Okay but be warned that he’s gonna demand to take you to dinner as a ‘thank you.’ Before you know it, you’ll be exchanging sexual favors with your new wallbuddy, likely up against a wall. From there, it’s just a short walk down Sex Friend Alley before he’ll be down on one knee as you’re pulling a diamond ring out of a chocolate lava cake while you’re on a couple’s vacation in Aruba. Then it’ll be all babies and buying a bigger house until, at last, you’re arguing while he’s on the road about whether you’ll spend the offseason in Jacksonville or Jackson Hole. I’ve seen it all a hundred times before.”

She just stares at me. “Wow. You’ve painted quite the picture. You’re just missing one important detail.”

“Am I?”

“Mhmm.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Colton and I arefriends. We knew each other from before.”

I raise a brow. “Before?”

“Before the Rays. We were both up at the Washington Capitals. We were friendly then, and we’re friendly now. You know why?”

“Why?”

It’s her turn to lean forward. “Because Colton Morrow isfriendly. He knows how to have a relationship with a woman and not make it more—or less, in your case.”