Page 26 of Halloween Town

Poppy released a wistful sigh. “It was my first bikini, and I loved it. Why are you glaring at me?”

Why couldn’t she see how much this was costing him? Getting it out felt brutal—like pulling teeth without anesthetic and being expected to smile through it.

“I hauled you out of the water, and I overestimated how much power I needed. You crashed into me.”

Poppy lifted her eyebrows. “So?”

So … should he draw her a picture? That would be so much easier. “I suddenly had my arms full of a very young, suddenly curvy Poppy who wasn’t the child I remembered. It was a shock…” In the same way that a lightning strike could be called a shock. “I was trying to make sense of that when you sat down next to me, linked your arm through mine, and pushed your breast into my bicep.” He could still remember the droplets of water on her skin, her blindingly blonde hair raked back from her face, her laughing blue eyes. That too-full breast and the heat shooting down to ignite a party in his pants. “I jumped up and dived off the raft and swam back to shore.”

“And when we got back to Solstice Deep, Grandpa told us that you’d left and weren’t coming back.” Poppy carefully shuffled her feet, her hair concealing her face. After a few moments, she looked up. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to make sense of this. You left because your arm inadvertently touched my boob?”

He was going to have to draw her a picture. “I left because I realized that you’d morphed from a child into a young woman.”

“So?”

Fuck, God save him. “I was twenty, you were seventeen. It was inappropriate.”

“I’m sorry, none of this is making any sense.”

“Why the fuck do you think I dived into the lake, Poppy? You snuggled in, and I got a boner. Wildly fucking inappropriate!”

Her eyes, big and round, connected with his. “Oh.”

Oh? That was all she had to say? What the actual fuck? Not that he wanted to continue this conversation, he’d rather rip his eyeballs out with his fingertips… But oh? That was it?

Her fingers tightened on the swing’s chains. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

Was that a serious question? Come on! “Even if I’d had the emotional depth and range required for that hellish conversation, how was I, as a twenty-year-old man, supposed to tell a seventeen-year-old girl that I found her hot? Your grandfather would’ve deballed me, and I get why!”

“Oh.” Another oh. Fan-fucking-tastic. “Okay, I see your point.” Hallelujah.

“As an almost thirty-year-old woman, I appreciate the position you were in, and I suppose I should thank you for being … honorable.” Poppy released a long sigh. “But it still hurt so much, Thom, it felt like the floor caving in on me. I never knew how much I relied on you until you were gone. Suddenly, I had to start figuring stuff out completely on my own, and it was hard.”

Guilt, hot and sour, rushed over him. “I take it your parents never stepped up?” It was a rhetorical question—he already knew the answer—and she shook her head. “Your brothers and sisters, then?”

Poppy managed a small smile. “Have you met my siblings?” She tried to inject some humor into her question, but it fell flat. She looked away and sucked in her cheek. Thom knew she was biting the inside of it, a childhood habit she hadn’t lost.

“Well, I’m glad I know. Thanks for telling me now, it’s better late than never.”

He nodded, thinking that he would’ve preferred not to have this conversation at all.

Still standing on the swing, Poppy’s eyes were locked on his mouth, and she seemed completely fascinated. Was she thinking about his attraction to her back then, wondering whether he was still attracted to her now? And God, he was, dangerously so. Did she want to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her? They were adults now, the small difference in their ages meant less than nothing, and they could … explore their chemistry.

Then reality strolled in and plonked its fat ass down. She was his brother’s ex, she was coming off a long and, he presumed, complicated relationship—because how could a relationship with Benji be anything but complicated? Having a fling with her ex’s brother was hardly the smartest way to mend her emotional scrapes and bruises.

But God, he wanted her. He’d wanted her for thirteen years. And when she looked at him like that, her jasper-blue eyes now witchy dark, like she wanted to gobble him up in one big bite, how was he supposed to keep his hands at his sides, not curl his hand around the back of her head and lower it so he could cover her lips with his?

He was arguing with himself—fighting attraction—when Poppy took the decision out of his hands by releasing the chain. She wobbled, her hands landed on his shoulders, and he instinctively grabbed her hips to steady her, to keep her from tumbling off the narrow wooden seat. Her hair fell down her face and brushed his cheek. Then she touched her lips to his, trusting him to help her keep her balance on the swing. His arm banded across her slim back; she really was a fairy in human form, and he held her tightly as he allowed her to explore his lips. Then her sigh hit his lips, sweet and warm, and he took control of the kiss from her, his tongue sliding past her teeth to tangle with hers. She tasted mysterious, of magic and moonbeams. He couldn’t get enough of her.

Deepening the kiss, he used his free hand to angle her head so that he could kiss her deeper, to swallow her sighs. This, God … this was better than anything he’d ever experienced, more amazing than he’d imagined. Kissing had always been a means to an end, enjoyable, but this kiss was…

It was everything. It was a hello, I’ve missed you, and a welcome back. A God, you look good grown up, and a who are you now? It was then and now, thirteen years of suppressed longing and 3 a.m. imagining.

He could’ve stood there for the rest of the day, forever, but Poppy pulled back and rested her forehead on his, the swing swaying under her feet. He steadied her, which required both hands on her shapely bum—not a hardship at all. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmured, the words hitting his lips.

“Probably not,” he agreed. He pulled back, just a little, to look in her eyes. Not seeing any regret in hers, just naked want, he mentally shrugged and whipped her off the swing to hold her against his much bigger body. “But let’s do it anyway.”

Poppy’s eyes widened, and he caught her gasp of excitement, the flicker of anticipation in her eyes, the desire. Then she wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck, and swiped her mouth across his. “Yeah, kiss me again, Thom.”