Page 7 of The Disasters of Dating (Love Connections #6)

I stare at her. She not only reads but also believes her horoscope? And she is blaming the universe when this is clearly my fault? I should thank the universe for taking one for the team. Even if I know better. “I’m pretty sure the universe had nothing to do with this.”

Our server chooses that moment to reappear. “Here is—oh.” She stares at the front of Poppy’s shirt and skirt, her lips twitching. “Can I get you something to help clean that up?” She sets our plates of food on the table.

Poppy looks up, and her hair falls away from her face.

I suck in a breath. Where we’d hit heads is now about the size of a chicken egg and already a lovely blueish-purple.

But that is nothing compared to what the colors around her eye will be.

As someone who’s had a black eye or two, I know the signs.

“Goodness, gracious,” our server says helpfully. “Do you want some ice?”

“No,” we both shout. Whoever hadn’t already been watching our little two-person circus now watches us as if we were a car accident on the side of the road. Eating and conversations have ceased, and all eyes are on us.

“I’ll be fine. If I could just get a container for my burger and the check, I think I’ll call it an evening.” She looks at me with cautious eyes. “This wasn’t a very proper apology. But if I don’t get this shirt soaking soon, it will be ruined.”

“Don’t worry about the check, I’ve got it.” I swallow. It’s hard to look at her and not have my chest clench with guilt.

She shakes her head. “I can’t let you do that. It was supposed to be my apology. Not yours.”

The server’s brows arch slowly.

My lips turn up. If it weren’t all so ridiculous, this would make a great story to tell my grandkids one day. “I think you more than paid for that. I’ll take care of the bill.”

There is a look of relief that crosses her face.

She had been worried then. My earlier antics now feel juvenile and mean.

Why was I being such a jerk? She was just doing her job—one that I only made harder for her.

“Why don’t you go deal with that?” I motion to her shirt.

“I need to grab my luggage. I can bring your burger to you there.”

She watches me for half a second as if she’s wondering if leaving me alone with her food is a good idea. But then she looks down at her shirt and nods. “Thanks.”

I grab my money clip from my front pocket and move around the table as I pull out a fifty. “Here, you’re going to need to buy at least a new shirt. And as we both know, there is a big markup here.” I shrug.

Her lips turn up ever so slightly, and I feel that desire to kiss her again. Anyone who could even hint at a smile after what she’s gone through deserves more consideration.

“Keep your money,” she says. “I have an extra pair of clothes in my bag.” She motions to her gigantic purse/bag on the floor at her feet.

“You carry spare clothes with you on the off chance that some strange guy dumps soup down the front of you?”

A chuckle escapes her lips. “I’ve learned that when my horoscope warns me about a bad day, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Maybe I was wrong about her following her horoscope. Or at least in this case, it was a good idea. “Okay, you go change and try to salvage those clothes. I’ll meet you back at the shop with your dinner.”

She nods. “Thanks, Keaton.” Bending over, she picks up her purse.

As she straightens, her head jerks back with a yelp.

Her cheek is nearly resting on my stomach.

“Ooch,” her hand reaches up. “I think my hair caught on something.” I can’t see her face, but there is a slight quiver in her voice.

Is she about to cry? Man, I hope not. I don’t know how to deal with a crying woman.

Sure enough. I look down, and one of her braids is wrapped around a button on my shirt.

She is already working at it with her fingers, but the hair is caught close to her scalp, making it difficult for her to see what she is doing.

“Here, let me see if I can get it.” I pick up the braid, trying to unwrap it from my button.

I can’t help but notice how soft her hair is.

And the smell of her perfume is even stronger now.

Any irritation I felt towards her after the near arrest is gone, and I’m back to wanting to ask her out— if anything, the desire is stronger.

I want to get to know her better. I’m sure most guys would write this off as a bad date and move on.

But it only makes me want to be with her more. She has handled it all with such grace.

After what feels like an eternity, I finally get the last bit of hair free. “I think that’s it.”

She stands up and her hair is—well, a hot mess. And that is being kind. If you add it to her stained clothes, black eye, and goose egg forehead, she looks like she’s been through a war. Not on a date. I feel terrible.

I’m about to apologize again when something hits me from behind.

I hear a male voice apologize to me, but it’s too late.

I’ve already lost my balance and I’m falling toward Poppy, pushing her back onto the bench.

My hands go on either side of her to brace my fall, but it doesn’t quite stop me in time.

Our faces end up very close. So close that my lips may have grazed hers.

I pause as a trail of tingles travel over my lips. There is no “may” about it. I definitely kissed Poppy. And I can’t say that I’m disappointed. Or I’m not until I hear Poppy’s sharp intake of breath. I pull my thoughts together and push myself off the bench.

I straighten my shoulders and run my hands down my thighs.

Mostly to keep myself from reaching out to her.

What would I do once I held her? I’m not sure.

Now that I’ve kissed her, I very much would like to do it again.

Only this time, I would enjoy it. Take my time and savor it.

There was none of that happening the last time.

I look down at her and brace myself to be slapped. But she is smiling at me instead. Does that mean she liked the kiss as much as I did? It gives me some confidence. I open my mouth to ask her for a redo before I go back to New Hampshire.

“So,” she says, stopping my words. “It’s pretty clear the universe is telling us this wasn’t a good idea.” Upon closer inspection, it doesn’t seem that it was a genuine smile. Her lips look very tight.

I snap my mouth shut, my words scurrying down my throat. When did the universe say that? I completely missed it. Was it during the very brief but still enjoyable kiss? The universe wouldn’t do that to me, right?

I bite the side of my cheek. Universe or not, Poppy thinks this was a bad idea. Which probably means she thinks us going on a real date is a bad idea too. I wonder if I can schedule a meeting with the universe and try to get her on my side. Because I just don’t think she’s right.

Poppy gives me another quick, tight smile as she pushes her giant bag on her shoulder and turns toward the exit.

Only then do I notice everyone is still watching us.

I settle into the chair, placing my back to them. I should go around and demand they each give me five bucks. After all, this isn’t a dinner and a show kind of restaurant. And I don’t work for free.

It takes Bethany forever to bring me the boxes for our food.

By the time she does get here with them, I’ve pretty much eaten all of my dinner.

I carefully put Poppy’s burger and all of her condiments into the recycled cardboard container.

I hand Bethany my credit card to pay the bill, and she hurries away.

I’m left trying to figure out exactly how everything turned for the worse. I hardly had a chance to talk to her. The only things I know about her are that she reads and follows her horoscope.

I smack myself on the forehead. Why didn’t I think to ask what her sign was?

I know she wants to own a chain of airport stores. An odd choice but respectable. And she is getting her bachelor’s degree in business. Or at least I think it’s a bachelor’s. She looks too young to already be in a master’s program. But I really don’t know that for certain.

Bethany lays the credit card slip in front of me with a pen. I add a tip—more generous than she deserves—and sign my name. I put my card back in my money clip and shove it into my front pocket as I stand up. Then I take the container and head for the exit.

The more I think about it, the more I disagree with Poppy. This wasn’t a sign from the universe. It was a series of mishaps. Maybe if I plead with her or appeal to her logical side, she will agree to a real date.

I step into The Wandering Reader and pause. Poppy isn’t there. Should I wait for her? Maybe if I loiter about the shop for a little bit, she’ll come back. Although loitering about the shop is what nearly got me arrested the last time. Maybe I shouldn’t try for a repeat.

But then I think about not seeing Poppy again before I leave the airport and decide to risk it.

I go in and look at the books. There are some beside the checkout in a decorative stack.

I’d bet a steak dinner that Poppy arranged them.

I don’t know why I think that, other than it looks like something she would do.

I pick up the book and thumb through it. It looks to be a fantasy. Although from the blurb on the back, it seems like it may be a romance, too. Is that possible? Would that make it a fantance? Or maybe a romantasy?

Whatever it is, this is a signed copy. I look at the author’s name. Danielle Baldwin. Hmm. Never heard of her.

“Can I help you? Have you read the book? It’s been a breakout hit.” The girl smiles at me. “I think the other girl that works here knows the author.”

My brows go up, but I shake my head. “No, I haven’t read it.” I put it back on the stack because I don’t intend to buy it. “I was waiting for Poppy. I have her dinner.” I hold up the box to prove my claim.

The girl’s eyes widen. “You’re the guy she broke her rule for?” She smiles and gives me a not-so-subtle head-to-toe once-over. “I can see why she did.”

“She broke her rule? What does that mean?” Do I really want the answer to that question?

“Poppy has a rule not to date travelers.”

I nod. So if I had asked her out before the whole arrest thing happened, she would have turned me down flat? I tip my head to the side. Maybe the universe wasn’t against us but actually trying to help us out? That is something to consider.

Just then, Poppy rushes into the shop. “Sorry, I’m late, Kendra.

Dinner was a dis—” She pulls up short when she sees me standing there with the container in my hands.

She’s dressed in a pair of khaki green, baggy, genie-type joggers and another boho shirt.

Only this one is navy blue. It would have fared way better at dinner.

She had taken out the smaller braids she had before and now has one French braid (Is that what they are called?) that wraps around her head and rests across her shoulder.

Still, she looks cute. Better than cute, actually. My skin warms looking at her.

She is also wearing more than her normal makeup. Odds are good it’s to cover up the damage. It’s not working.

Kendra lets out a gasp. “Girl, what happened to you?”

Poppy shrugs. “I’ll tell you later.” She turns to me and grabs the container.

“Thanks for bringing this.” Setting it on the counter, she hurries around and shimmies behind Kendra.

When she comes back out, she has my backpack and suitcase.

“Here’s your stuff.” She bites her lip. “And thanks for dinner. You didn’t have to pay. ”

I nod. “It was my plan all along.”

She doesn’t look like she believes me.

“Well, I’d better get back to work. Thanks again,” she smiles.

I lift my hand and give her a little wave. Lame, I know. “Have a good night.”

“You, too,” she says as she turns away and starts talking to Kendra? I think that was her name. Not that it matters. Kendra isn’t the one I want to ask out. But Poppy doesn’t seem like an option anymore.