When in December (Home Haven #1)

Chapter 21

twenty-one

. . .

Poppy

“Are you a friend of Barrett’s?” the woman who had complimented my earrings asked me.

We stood next to the tree and window, where we could see out into the piles of snow, frozen from the cold. She had tight, bouncy curls and soft pink lipstick that made her skin look amazing.

“I’m Fiona, by the way.”

“I’m Poppy,” I told her. “One of Barrett’s friends invited me to come with him.”

“Oh, that’s so nice.”

“It is. I love a good holiday party. Usually, I’m busy working.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a designer.”

“Fashion?” Her eyes widened.

Did my jingle bell earrings not say enough? “Home and interior. I work for Home Haven,” I corrected.

Fiona gasped. “You’re kidding!”

I shook my head.

“I love Home Haven! I have followed their social media for ages. Such stunning work, and now, they have a website and everything.”

“They do,” I said. “It’s really exciting how it’s all expanding.”

“I can imagine. You must feel so lucky to be a part of it,” she said.

“I love my job,” I agreed.

“All the opportunities around here in the city are another reason I want to move back to the area. My husband, Isaac, is from near here, and I just love it.”

“Your husband?”

Fiona motioned across the room toward a man with gelled hair that stuck up near the front. “He’s right over there. Maybe you can convince him how great this area is, though I think I’m already wearing him down. His parents are still around, too, which helps. Plus, I mean, Barrett and my aunt are here, too, and it would be nice to see them more.”

I narrowed my eyes at the man she’d pointed to across the room. He looked oddly familiar.

“Where in the city is he from?”

“Isaac?” Fiona thought for a second. “I’d have to ask again. I’m not good with all the little neighborhoods. But I know that he went to Oak …”

“Oak Bridge?” I filled in.

Immediately, Fiona nodded. “Yes, that’s it. Oh my goodness, did you go there too? Now, we’ll have to steal him away and see if you remember each other. I imagine, in the city, it’s a big school.”

It was, but I was starting to remember him already—and not because Isaac had been someone exactly memorable to me, but the person he’d hung out with on sports teams and in the hallways had been. He spent enough time with Aaron that I was certain that he’d remember him.

“Enough about him though.” Fiona laughed. “I’m sure he’ll come over at some point. Are you … on anything exciting now?”

“Huh?” I’d missed part of what she said.

“For Home Haven,” she prompted. “Are you working on anything new and exciting right now?”

“Oh, yes,” I said. “The friend who invited me here actually—a friend of Barrett’s—he has a small home, more like a cabin, not too far from here. It was expanded. I’ve been working on finishing the renovations there and making sure that it’s perfect for a family holiday coming up.”

“That’s amazing. Can’t wait to see the final pictures.”

Neither could I, and that reminded me how soon the photographer would be coming to take them for the magazine.

Fiona’s brow creased as she looked to where Aaron was quickly approaching. “It looks like he’s more than just a friend of Barrett’s.”

Aaron was coming toward me and only me, not looking at anyone who paid him any attention.

“Looks like a conversation I want to overhear but should probably go. I’ll see you around, hopefully. I’ll be looking for your work on Home Haven’s socials!” Fiona said. “Happy holidays!”

“Happy holidays,” I responded, unable to look away from Aaron. He stood directly in front of me now, brows low and eyes hard. “Aaron, are you all right?”

He grabbed my hand. I looked down at it. I wasn’t sure if he’d ever grabbed my hand. Ever.

“Let’s go.”

“What?” I asked, confused. “We just got here.”

“I’m ready to go.”

I didn’t want to be rude. I looked around for Barrett, who must’ve been talking to Aaron before he stormed over here.

Barrett raised a hand in a wave. I waved back as Aaron gathered our coats from the chair we left them on, but I hadn’t managed to shout out a thank-you.

“Aaron, did something happen?” I asked.

He didn’t answer.

“That was so rude. You can’t storm out of a party a friend invited you to.”

Though clearly, he had and didn’t seem to care. He barely even looked at me as walked all the way to the truck. He climbed into the driver’s side and turned the key. It rumbled to life.

“Buckle up,” Aaron instructed.

“Did Barrett say something? Are you not feeling well? I don’t understand here?—”

I stopped myself from continuing. Aaron wasn’t going to respond. I was baffled, yet unable to figure out what else to say when he was not going to talk. His jaw was hard, though his hands remained in control on the wheel, though he did start driving until I clicked my seat belt into place.

The rest of the ride home was silent. Not even the radio was loud enough to breach the uneasy tension that made the space feel uncomfortable and thick.

What had happened back there? Had Aaron not had a good talk with Barrett? Was he upset with me?

I mean, he still could be after the other day that we still hadn’t talked about. The kiss.

Us.

Even if there was no us.

We were back in front of the cabin before I could let myself spiral down into a pit of puzzlement. Aaron turned off the truck and got out. After another minute, trying to stay calm, I followed.

Opening the door to the mudroom, Aaron kicked off his shoes and walked in without looking back at me. Tiny nails pattered toward the door, and I watched as Oz attempted to jump the best he could to greet Aaron.

“Chill out, Oz,” Aaron mumbled, smoothing a hand over the dog before sending him away.

He still wasn’t looking back at me. I froze there in the mudroom. Usually in here, I looked around to make sure everything was in its place, that this room was complete. Dark blue paint and wallpaper were perfectly aligned. I had nothing left to do with my design. But I wasn’t focused on my work. My entire focus was on Aaron and the heavy pulse thudding in my chest.

Aaron continued to walk through the house. He slowly took off his jacket as he went through the kitchen and into the living room with a sigh.

One step at a time, I walked in after him. I looked at the back of his head. He’d pulled himself together once and for all tonight. I had seen it happening slowly with clean clothing and consistent showers and making sure that he was eating while we worked to fill out his frame. But now, he was clean-shaven and crisp, rolling back his shoulders to stand tall.

I wasn’t sure if I would’ve recognized the man as the same one standing exactly where we’d met a few weeks ago. But I knew Aaron now. I’d known him for over a decade. I knew the good he had in him. I knew the sound of his laughter. I knew his anger, and I knew what he looked like in tears.

But this kind of Aaron, pacing and quiet as he searched through his head for something—I was still unsure what—I didn’t know. Not yet.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Aaron twisted around to face me. I stood behind the couch in the living room, dropping my purse on the cushion so I could wring my hands.

Now, he was the one who looked confused. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes,” I said.

“About what?”

I swallowed, gathering up some ounce of courage. I knew I had it. I just needed to find it somewhere in myself. “The other day, I shouldn’t have even come to the house after you told me not to. I should have been more considerate and not pushed your boundaries, which led us into inappropriate behavior, and I truly apologize that this has made you uncomfortable.”

He stared at me like he was looking at some sort of alien in front of him.

“You think this is about how I kissed you,” he said.

Wasn’t it? “Yes.”

“Because I kissed you? That’s why you think I’m acting like a crazy person right now who can’t even string together a stupid sentence?”

This time, I didn’t answer.

“I kissed you,” Aaron said, leaning in closer to me. “I kissed you .”

His lips were a breath away from my own.

“You did.” I blinked rapidly, forcing myself to keep eye contact with him. “You didn’t have to do that, and I’m sorry it happened.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes. I put you in a position where?—”

“What if I wanted to?” he asked.

I stood still.

“Haven’t thought about that, have you?”

I shook my head, still not quite understanding how we’d gotten here. One minute, we had been at the party, and now, even Oz had skittered away to a cozy spot near the fireplace and out of this strange exchange.

“No,” I said. “You don’t have to say anything or lie. I get it. You haven’t cared about what I’m trying to do here. You haven’t even wanted me here at all for that matter.”

“Since when, Poppy?”

“It wasn’t a mistake. I won’t say that about it. The kiss. And I’m sorry. I know you don’t even like me, especially not like that. So, I’ve been trying to keep my distance and be respectful and professional .”

God, he was making me start to hate that word.

“Yet I’ve been failing,” I admitted, putting a hand on my forehead. “Clearly.”

“You really think that I don’t like you? Care about you? Damn, Poppy.” Aaron ran a hand through his short hair, which was starting to puff out on the sides.

“You’re giving me whiplash here, Aaron. I don’t—I don’t know what you want me to say to make this better, and everything is almost over. Either let me do my job or …”

Or?

I didn’t even know anymore.

I let my hands fall to my sides in defeat.

“You don’t get it,” said Aaron gruffly.

“Get what?”

He nodded. Once. Twice.

“Fine then. Here.” He shrugged as if what he was going to say was simple. “For the past few weeks, you’ve been digging under my skin. Trying to find all my buttons. But then I started to watch you work, and I saw your passion for what you do, and I talked to you?—”

“Whoa, don’t sound so pleased about spending time with me.”

He put up a hand to stop me. “I tried not to like you, Poppy, but sometimes, I can’t help myself. It’s like you’re constantly sitting in the back of my brain. When I’m not thinking of anything else, I’m thinking of you. You’re always there, in the corner of my mind. Your face. Your smile. The way you laugh before covering your mouth with your hands, like you think no one wants to see your teeth. I think about you all the time, whether you’re standing right in front of me or late at night, when my mind won’t turn off and I’m in bed. Then, I’m only with you.”

I stared at him.

“So, when I found out tonight that this wasn’t the first time we’d met, that we had known each other from over a decade ago, it dawned on me. That the girl with the hesitant laugh and concern always written on her face … and the lips that had tasted like strawberries that night I was at a party, wasted off my ass and cursing the world … it was you.”

He knew.

“How did you?—”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

I took a deep breath. “It was clear that you didn’t remember. I couldn’t think, what was the point to tell you? Especially after a while. I mean, I’m a different person than I was back then anyway. So are you.”

“Even without knowing the reason, I wanted to be angry that you hadn’t said something. Poppy Owens, the girl with the crush on me that I’d barely even met once until the night before I left,” said Aaron. “But I’m not angry.”

“You’re not?”

Aaron slowly shook his head back and forth. “I was alone for most of the night, you know. My sister was supposed to be watching me, but I snuck out of the apartment. My parents had been in an accident a few nights before. They died, and my entire family was up in arms, trying to figure out what they were going to do about me. I couldn’t stand being in that house anymore, so I left. I wanted to go to the party. So, I did. I went to the party and got a little drunk, and yet I still felt so damn awful that I crashed on a pile of coats in the guest room. Then, you walked in.”

I looked at him.

“You came to the party with your friends who were always awful to you at school, and yet you were always smiling for some reason. I could never figure out what you could be smiling about. Whose life is so good that they’re always happy, right?”

“I wasn’t always happy.”

“Then, why the fuck were you smiling?”

I shrugged. “Because I was always told to. ‘Smile to make everyone else wonder why you’re smiling,’ Mom used to say. As if that would help me make more friends. Better friends. It didn’t, but at the time, I was willing to try just about anything. So, I did.”

“And was smiling and pretending to be happy easier?” he asked.

“Sometimes.” Other times, it’d felt like my smile was slowly eating me away from the inside out.

“Yeah, I didn’t have that advice.”

“Clearly.”

Aaron breathed a sharp laugh. “Yet, I’ll admit your smile sure made me feel better. Especially that night at the party.”

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“It was though, Poppy. It was a big deal. You made that night bearable for me. You were the only one who stuck around, and years later, I didn’t recognize you, and you didn’t say anything.”

I waited for it. I waited for him to finally get angry and kick me out.

But he didn’t do that. Instead, he took a step forward. I took a step back until my back was flush against the bookcase.

“And when I figured it out, for some reason, there was only one thing I thought.”

I swallowed, feeling the pressure from the lack of space between us. “What?”

“I regretted not kissing you again sooner.”

He didn’t pause now before he kissed me again.

It wasn’t like our last kiss, hesitant and brushing enough that it could’ve been an accident. This kiss was deliberate. It was hot. It was us. I breathed and bent into him, unable to help myself. Neither could he. His hands felt as if they molded to my body, his mouth lavishing me.

I gasped, angling my chin back until my head leaned against a shelf and I was able to stare up at him.

“What?”

“Just making sure this isn’t a body-snatchers situation,” I said softly before shaking my head again. “We need to stop.”

“Why?”

“Finding out—it doesn’t change anything here, Aaron.”

“It changes everything.” He stood there in the silence, given the light snow falling outside could be heard if you listened close enough.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I am?” he asked.

“Uh-huh,” I said. “You might be the most dramatic man I’ve ever met in my entire life. Listen to me.”

“I’m listening.”

“We’re still exactly where we are. Let’s leave all this at that. We have all of, what? Five days left? We made it. Congratulations to us. Let’s just be happy with what we managed here.” I looked around at the nearly perfect home I managed create here. “We can pause. Then neither of us will have to worry about ruining any of this.”

“Who says anything about ruining?” He pushed the shoulder of my dress down with a smirk. “I think that us together do the exact opposite of ruining.”

I was transfixed by the way his lips curved. He took a gamble—or maybe it was already obvious what was going to happen between us by the way our chests touched and our eyes wandered to exactly what we wanted but were too afraid to say. He reached out to tilt my chin back down, aligning my lips with his. I didn’t resist.

Aaron Hayes was holding me the way I’d always wanted for years, and I’d let him do it all night if he’d allow it. Just like this.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he whispered. “I’ve realized I really suck at it.”

“Then …” I took a deep breath. The words were perched on the edge of my lips, ready to slip free, but hesitant.

Aaron reached up, running his thumb along my bottom lip, as if it would coax them out.

“Then, don’t be,” I whispered. “You don’t have to be alone.”

Not anymore , I corrected. Not for now.

The words made his breath go uneven, which was good because I wasn’t feeling so steady myself. Even less so when he was kissing me.

I felt the power of it, my lips opening in a shallow gasp. Aaron took the moment to sweep in, tasting me, claiming and teasing all at once.

I arched. I didn’t want any space between us other than the fabric of our clothes, which felt thick and overbearing.

“Yes?” He asked me, making sure we were on the same page. His hands were already trailing back and forth over my body.

“Yes,” I whispered, leaning back in to tilt my mouth over his skin.

“My little homemaker wants to devour me.”

“More than anything.”

I let my hands drift down from where they stalled against his chest. My palms slipped over his navel where his shirt had ridden up. I gripped the hem.

He grumbled, looking down at me with pained desire. “I think I want to let you.”

“I want to see you,” I whispered against his mouth.

He scraped his teeth against my neck as he finally found the small white ribbon holding together my wrap dress. He toyed with it, waiting to pull and let the fabric fall away.

I shivered.

“You’re still dressed,” I whispered.

He breathed into my ear, “Then, undress me, angel.”