Page 45 of Halloween Town

Poppy surprised him by pushing her hand under his arm, burrowing down so that her small hand found his. Her fingers slid between his, and she momentarily laid her head on his bicep. Thom’s heart fluttered and stuttered. Stupid thing.

“So, I’m really sorry but…” Her words trailed off, and her heavy sigh punctuated the air. He squeezed her hand and waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he followed her gaze and saw that she’d closed her eyes, not clever when she was walking a dark path through trees in the dead of night.

He didn’t need a degree to know what was coming next. “But you’re not going to sleep with me.”

Her eyes flew open at his direct statement. She stopped, gripped the lapels of his singed coat, and banged her forehead on his sternum. “I feel like the biggest cock tease in the world. I let you do that to me and didn’t give anything back. Now I’m slamming on the brakes.”

Which she had every right to do. Slinging his arms around her, he rocked her gently. “It’s okay, Pops. No rule demands an orgasm for an orgasm.”

He wasn’t that guy—a douche who pushed his luck. Never had been. He didn’t persuade, didn’t coax, didn’t use confusion or vulnerability to get his way. It didn’t matter how much he wanted her.

Poppy was his friend—had been long before she’d become this … complication. And she deserved respect. Hell, all women did. And he cared about was her, about where her head was at, about the mess she’d bolted from and the feelings she was still trying to untangle. Whatever was bubbling between them could take a back seat if it left her feeling off-balance or unsure. Poppy’s emotional wellbeing had been, and still was, all that mattered.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that…”

“You were engaged a little while ago, about to get married. You’re back here, living in your childhood refuge, your grandparents are gone, and you are crazy attracted to your oldest friend, who happens to be your ex’s brother.”

She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes at his choice of words, just as he’d intended. “Crazy attracted might be overstating it, Sheffield.”

He kissed her nose. “Well, he’s crazy attracted to you.” He held her again, rocked her again. “My point is that you have a lot to work through, a lot to process. And that it’s okay, I get it. Take as much time as you need.”

She looked up at him, her eyes as dark as the night surrounding him. “What if I don’t get there?” she asked, her voice thin.

Then I’ll cry like a toddler with a migraine.

“Then you don’t get there, Pops.” And he had his pride; he wasn’t into pity sex. Poppy either wanted him or she didn’t. He’d enjoy her if she did, he’d survive if she didn’t.

It would be shit, but life had taught him that most things could be endured.

Ruby

Ruby knew she shouldn’t be on this path in the woods, walking parallel to Thom and Poppy, the trees an obstacle she simply passed through. Lila and Naomi would not approve.

She hadn’t followed the couple into the theater and, judging by Poppy’s flushed face and slightly unfocused eyes, she figured that something major had occurred behind those closed doors. She suspected they were on their way back to the house to pick up where they’d left off. Which probably involved being naked.

But they weren’t acting like a couple. Firstly, there was the physical distance—enough space for another person, or a ghost, to fit—between them. And then there was the emotional distance, with neither of them speaking. Both surprised her: with their chemistry, she rather thought they’d be setting the forest alight.

Any other man, or any other man she knew, would be all over Poppy like a rash. With Thom, she only sensed restraint.

Ruby cocked her head. What madness was this? She was so used to men who saw hesitation as a challenge, who blew past the boundaries women tried to put in place. The men she knew took maybes for yesses and believed that desire equaled entitlement.

Thom didn’t seem to feel that way.

“My point is that you have a lot to work through, a lot to process. And that it’s okay, I get it. Take as much time as you need,” Ruby heard him say. Thom was not only not diving in, he was also encouraging Poppy to take her time. Did that mean that he was willing to lose his chance of having sex with her? That Poppy’s feelings came first?

It sure sounded like it. It also sounded like Thom would rather lose Poppy than hurt her, and that her happiness was more important to him than his needs.

Was this really happening? Were there really men like this? Then her God-given cynicism kicked in. Ruby narrowed her eyes. Yeah, sure. Give it a few days, max a week. Men always said the right things—right up until they stopped. Or left.

“What if I don’t get there?” Poppy asked.

In the low light, Ruby saw the tension in his jaw, in the tight cords of his neck. The way his shoulders slumped when he replied, his words low, but intense. “Then you don’t get there, Pops.”

He still wasn’t pushing for more. That was new … and Ruby wasn’t a fan of new, of people not reacting the way she expected them to.

She tapped her finger against her lips, thinking. Was she right in assuming that Thom wasn’t fighting Poppy? That he was fighting himself, fighting to put her before his need to have her? Was that stupidity or strength?

He wasn’t trying to win the war of sex or dominance or power. He was, as much as he could, trying to protect Poppy, choosing what was best for her and her happiness. And he was paying the price of that choice.