Page 21 of Halloween Town

“I suspect that you either have the pearl or you were bullshitting about the number of pearls on that string in the first place. As for staying? No.”

Damn, so he’d clocked that lie, too? Huh. Annoying.

And how could he say no so quickly? Couldn’t he give it some thought? What had happened to the laughing, reasonable, thoughtful boy she’d known? Had he always been this sarcastic, rude, and stubborn? Or did she just bring it out in him now? And could he look at her when he spoke to her? Every adult knew that it was bad manners to scroll and talk at the same time.

“I’ll pay you. Whatever the B&Bs are charging, I’ll pay you their rate.”

He finally lowered his phone and transferred his attention to her. “Do I look like I need your money?”

She remembered his brand-new, high-end truck, the fancy laptop on the kitchen table, and his latest model smartphone. He wore an expensive, albeit functional, watch, and his work boots were imported. No, he didn’t need her money. “It’s a good deal, and you know it,” she told him, after trying to convince him that the extra money would help with the renovations of Solstice Deep.

“Having you in my house and under my feet? I don’t think so,” Thom said, dismissing her and returning his attention to his phone. Annoyed, she snatched it out of his hand and held it behind her back.

“Can you please look at me while you are talking to me?” she demanded.

“Can you please give me back my phone before I take it from you?”

His eyes met hers, hot smoke, and Poppy flushed, realizing that he’d shifted closer to her. His thigh pressed against hers and his arm lay across her stomach to grip the arm of the bench. His other hand rested behind her head. His mouth was close to hers, and she inhaled the dizzying scent of his soap and deodorant, underneath both was the scent of a warm, luscious man. She smelled coffee and peppermint on his breath, and she couldn’t stop looking at his mouth, wondering whether it was just pretty packaging, or if he knew how to use it.

But she kinda knew he did. Thom did everything well. She did not doubt that he was as talented in the bedroom as he was at everything else.

“Why do you need to stay in my house, Poppy?”

She lifted her shoulder, unable to explain that it was the only place she thought she could find herself, where she could pick up the pieces of the person she once was and stitch herself together once again. Poppy 2.0 would be stronger, a lot more authentic. She hoped.

She pushed Thom away, rested her forearms on her thighs and stared at Thom’s rugged boots.

“I lost my job.”

“Fired or resigned?”

Another shrug. “I worked in a PR company owned by your mom’s⁠—”

“My stepmom,” he corrected her.

“Anyway, the PR firm where I worked is owned by your stepmom’s best friend. I imagine my position was eliminated when I walked out on Benji. I didn’t love it, nor was I any good at it. They won’t miss me, and I won’t miss it.”

Why was she telling him this? He didn’t need to know and certainly wouldn’t care.

“Sounds like a nightmare.”

Not horrible, but soul-destroyingly unimaginative. Nine-to-five drudgery that sucked all the joy out of her life. But everyone, from her mom to Benji to her siblings, had been so complimentary when she started working for Frieda, and she’d soaked up their praise like a sponge. They assumed she was managing accounts, creating strategy, was at the coalface putting out PR fires. But she’d been little more than a dogsbody, running errands, making coffee, and filing crap.

She’d tried to tell Benji she hated it, but he hadn’t stood still long enough to listen. Or to care. To be honest, he hadn’t been interested in her at all. She’d found solace in painting and drawing, in crafting, but Benji dismissed her work as being puerile and juvenile. On one occasion, he also called it “stupid as shit.” Even her family had been gentler than that.

God, she’d wasted so much time and energy on that douche.

“What does losing your job have to do with staying at the inn?”

How did she explain? She needed to figure out who she was and what she wanted without reference to anyone else. The only time she felt completely herself was when she lived at the inn. “It’s where I feel safe.”

And if that explanation didn’t satisfy him, she didn’t have a Plan B. All she knew was that she’d been living a life that didn’t suit her for far too long. She needed to recalibrate and to be at Solstice Deep while she did it.

“Okay.”

“Okay … what?”

“Okay, you can stay,” Thom said, and leaned forward to whip his phone from her suddenly slack hand. Poppy caught the smirk on his lips and the flash of dry amusement in his eyes, the suggestion that he’d pulled one over her. She recognized that look; it meant trouble was coming her way.