Page 41 of The Birthday List (Maysen Jar 1)

It was hours later than I’d planned to be at the restaurant. Terrell had dropped me off at my truck after the Quincy incident and I’d come straight here, so anxious to see Poppy that I’d had a hard time obeying the speed limit myself.

But I was here now and I couldn’t get past the damn door.

“Excuse me.”

A lady stood behind me, wanting to get past. “Sorry.” I unstuck my feet and stepped inside, holding the door open for her.

As the lady joined a friend at a table, I stayed at the back wall, watching Poppy work. Her hair was up, tied in a knot secured by two pencils. A black apron was tied around the waistband of her jeans. Her white V-neck tee with the restaurant’s logo on the pocket draped perfectly down her breasts, hinting at just a bit of cleavage as it fell down her flat stomach.

Beautiful.

Her smile was so natural and charismatic. She mesmerized her customers, laughing and chatting as she worked. She mesmerized me.

So I stood at the back, doing my best to blend into the brick wall as I watched. I relished every second of her unguarded smile, because as soon as she spotted me, she’d be back on alert. She’d throw up her wall, just like she’d done last night when she’d spotted me outside of Mom’s music studio.

I’d lectured Terrell earlier about finding a balance, but damn if I wasn’t having a hell of a time finding one with Poppy. Was I pushing her too fast? Too hard? Not enough?

When I was around, she had a war raging inside her head. She’d look at me and I’d see that desire spark behind her eyes. But then she’d smother it, letting her face twist with guilt. I hated that look. I hated putting it on her face.

If I were a stronger man, I would have stayed away and given her time. But here I was, lurking at the back of her restaurant, so drawn to her that I’d barely blinked.

As if she knew I was thinking about her, Poppy’s eyes searched the restaurant. The second she spotted me, her body strung tight. She looked away, studying the counter for a moment as her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. But then she shocked me with a slow, gorgeous smile.

I was fucking doomed.

That smile—and the finger wave that went along with it—would have had me swaying on my feet if not for the brick wall at my back.

A customer snagged Poppy’s attention and I took a moment to get my heart rate under control. Three deep breaths and I was steady, striding across the restaurant.

“Is this seat taken?” I asked the elderly man at the counter.

“No,” he grunted.

“Thanks.” I slid into the stool, catching Poppy’s eye as she rang up her customer’s order. “Hey.”

“Hi. Give me one sec.”

“Take your time.” She went back to ringing up a customer’s order and I turned to the old man. “Mind if I snag a menu?”

He grunted again as he lifted one off the stack by the register and pushed it down the counter.

I scanned the menu, debating my options. Maybe one day I wouldn’t need a menu. Maybe I’d be around enough that I’d have all the choices memorized. And maybe one day I’d get a different greeting from Poppy. I’d be allowed behind the counter so I could tuck her into my side and kiss her hair as I said hello.

“Here’s hoping,” I mumbled.

“What was that?” the elderly man asked.

“Oh, uh, just hoping she’s got more of that mac ’n’ cheese.” Piss poor recovery, Cole. Piss poor. “Have you eaten here much?”

“Every day.” His chest puffed up as he made his declaration. “This is my seat.”

“An expert. Nice. Any recommendations?”

“Meh. Her potpies are all right.”

“All right?” Poppy stepped right in front of the old man and planted her hands on her hips. “Sheesh. Is that why you’ve

had four of them today? Because they were just all right?”