Pucked Off (Pucked #6)(106)

“Not even for a second.”

A huge crash shocks a gasp out of me as he pulls the drawer free from the nightstand, and it lands on the floor. Lance holds up a condom with a satisfied smile. Actually, it’s a strip of condoms. “Got what I needed.”

“Do we really need that?” I ask.

He blinks a couple of times. “I dunno, do we not?”

“I’m on the pill.”

“And you think that’s safe enough?”

“Do you?” I run my fingers through his hair, asking the question without putting it into words.

He regards me for a few long seconds. “You trust me?”

“Aye.”

He huffs a little laugh and shakes his head. “Is that yer new favorite word, then?” It comes out with an accent.

“Maybe.” I pause before adding, “Aye.”

He drops his face into the crook of my neck. “Precious, you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” He kisses along my neck, and I feel him, hot and hard against me. “If I go in bare, I’m not gonna last long,” he says when he gets to my mouth.”

“That’s okay. We have all night for you to be sweet with me.”

He drops the strip of condoms on the covers and takes my face in his hands. With his eyes on mine he sinks in to me. For a moment I’m lost, and then I’m found in him.

This is nothing like the last time I was with him. This is connection in its purest form. Sensation blends with emotions that have yet to be uttered. But they will, because they’re too big for either of us to contain anymore.

I come just before he does, and the world is devoid of color. There is only this man and this moment.

“Poppy?” Lance’s arm is wrapped around me, anchoring me to his chest, even though I still feel like I’m floating.

“Mmm?”

“I have to tell you something.”

I lift my head at his nervous tone.

He runs a finger from the bridge of my nose to the tip and touches it to my lips. “I’m in love with you.”

“That’s good to know.” I pause, his panicked expression almost comical, except that it’s genuine, so I continue. “Because I’m in love with you, too.”

My words turn his fear into tenderness.

And then he spends the rest of the night, with his touch and his words, explaining exactly how precious I am.





EPILOGUE


FOREVER ISN’T

JUST A WORD

LANCE

One year later



I’m not sure I believe that time heals all wounds. I don’t think it’s as simple as that. Sure, time is a factor in washing away old pain, but it’s what, or who, those losses and wounds are replaced by that makes the real difference.

I won’t put my happiness on Poppy. That’s a burden, not a compliment. But she’s the light I needed to find my way out of the dark spaces in my head. I still go there sometimes, but I have a reason not to stay.

She’s also the reason I finally heeded Coach’s advice to talk to someone about my aggression. Because I never want to turn that on her. I never want to put on the person I love the most what someone else forced on me. So I’m dealing with the ghosts from my past so I can have a better future. One that includes Poppy.

This past summer I took her to Scotland to meet my extended family. And we took a side trip to see my father. I hadn’t seen him in a couple years, but Poppy made it manageable. I have some perspective now. We’re all products of our upbringing, but we get to choose who we bring into our lives. I choose Poppy. And I’m really fucking hopeful I’ll be her choice, too.

I’m waiting at the front door, checking the time. According to my messages, Poppy left the Buttersons’ place fifteen minutes ago. The girls got together to look at Miller and Sunny’s wedding pictures. Poppy was there that day, of course, as my plus one. I officiated, as seems to be the trend.

I wipe my palm on my pants and adjust the collar of my shirt, checking my reflection in the mirror one more time. I look fine. Nervous, because I am, but fine.

She should be here any minute. I check the time again.

Just as I mutter where the hell is she? Poppy’s car pulls up beside my Hummer. She’s right, her Mini does look like something my car shat out. I check my pocket and rush to the closet, leaving the door slightly ajar.

My palms are seriously sweaty. I wipe them on my pants, retrieve the small box from my pocket, and wait. And wait some more. I’m more nervous than I was the first time Poppy agreed to go out with me. The stakes are infinitely higher right now.

Finally I hear the beep of the code being punched in. This is it. I’ve been waiting months for this. I suck in a deep breath, prepping for the inevitable.

“Lance? I’m home!” Poppy calls.

I bite my tongue so I don’t answer.

After a few seconds of silence, she calls again. “Baby? You here?”

I’m a big fan of pet names. More than I thought I’d be.

She says something to herself about leaving lights on, and the door to the closet swings open. As soon as she sees me, she screams.

Which is not quite the response I was going for.

“Ahhh! What the heck?” She stumbles back, her hands pressed to her heart. Poppy isn’t much for swearing. It’s precious, just like her.