Page 47 of Resisting His Charm
“Wednesday is the anniversary of her mother’s death,” Jaxson explains. “It’s always a hard day for her.”
Like I said, I’d figured her parents had passed. I was just waiting for Poppy to be the one to tell me about it. Which is why I don’t press her cousins for more information. “I’ll ask her.”
I watch as Poppy and Alice approach the bar. Poppy kicks off her heels, climbs up on the barstool and then onto the bar top.
“Oh, great, she’s doing it again,” Joel groans.
“She do this often?” I ask, already standing.
“Yep,” Jaxson grunts.
Making my way over to the bar, I position myself in front of Poppy. At least she’s wearing a floor-length dress and every fucker here can’t see her panties tonight. “We really need to stop meeting like this,” I tell her.
“Poppy, seriously, I’m not doing it,” Alice hisses out.
“Yes, you are,” Poppy insists. “Sammie, use those muscles of yours and get her up here.”
“Yeah, I’m not touching a woman who’s not you,” I tell her.
“Aw, that’s sweet, but seriously I need someone else up here with me.”
“Why?” I ask her.
“Because I cannot line dance on this bar alone.” Poppy looks at Alice.
“Fine, but when you get married, I’m paying you back for this,” Alice grumbles, scooping her dress as she climbs onto the stool. Poppy grabs on to Alice’s hand, and before I know it, they’re both on the bar.
“DJ, play our song!” Poppy yells out.
A country song starts blaring through the speakers, and Poppy and Alice pick up the bottom of their dresses and start doing some kind of synchronized dance. Jaggar comes to stand next to me.
When the song starts telling them to shake it, I turn to him. “What is this song?”
“Country Girl, Luke Bryan. They’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember,” he groans.
I stare up at Poppy, ready to catch her if she falls, but I can’t help but be amazed by how free she looks right now. “This is how we met,” I tell Jaggar.
“What?”
“She was dancing on one of my bars, fucked the wood up with her heels too.” I laugh. I remember getting a message frommy dad about having to have that bar top sanded down and resurfaced. He wasn’t impressed.
When the song ends, Poppy jumps—literally jumps—at me. I catch her. But fuck, that came out of nowhere. “Good reflexes,” she tells me, her palm patting my chest.
“As if I’d fucking let you fall.”
“Aw, you say the sweetest things.” Her lips press against mine and I fucking take everything she’s giving me. The taste of sugary wine hits my tongue.
“How drunk are you?”
“I’m not. I’ve had two drinks all night because this is a night I was not going to forget. Why?” Poppy says.
“I need to ask you something and I need you to be sober to give me an answer,” I explain.
“Is it about anal? Because it’s not really my thing but something tells me you’d make even that feel good,” she says.
I raise a single brow at her. “It’s not, but when we do get to that, I guarantee you’re going to fucking love it. I want you to come back to Vegas with me.”
“When?”
