The lunch passed with easy chatter and the wiping of sticky fingers.
“I’m so glad Rico brought you today,” Sorcha said later, after a travel cot had been found for Lily and she’d been put down for her afternoon nap while the men took the boys into the vineyard. Sorcha sobered. “I’m very glad he went looking for you. Are you angry with me?”
“For telling him? No.” Poppy crossed her arms. “I’d been thinking about doing it. Things were complicated at home so I put it off, but it’s all worked out.” For Gran and Lily. Her? Not so much.
“I’m sorry for interfering. I know how hard that decision can be, but I couldn’t let him miss out on Lily. He shut right down after Faustina. My heart broke clean in half for him. I’m so happy to see the way he’s taken to her.”
Poppy nodded dumbly, shielding her gaze with a glance toward the floor so Sorcha couldn’t read the bigger story in her eyes.
“He wants to be a good father. I was afraid of... Well, nothing, I guess,” Poppy admitted ruefully. When it came to Rico’s feelings for Lily, she had every confidence their bond would only continue to grow.
“But?” Sorcha prompted.
“It’s hard.” Her throat thickened and she felt tears pressing behind her eyes. “This is all really hard. Rico and I don’t have what you and Cesar did. The years of familiarity and caring.”
Sorcha choked on a laugh. “Do I make it look like it was easy for us to get where we are? That is quite a compliment and good on me for selling that image, but no. I assure you that what we have was achieved through blood, sweat and tears. Years of loving my boss, if you want the truth. Which is how and why Enrique came about,” she added dryly. “But like the rest of his family, Cesar had kicked his heart under the sofa and forgotten about it. So there will definitely be some heavy lifting required to find Rico’s. I’m sorry to tell you that.” Sorcha sobered. “But I think it’s understandable, given what he’s been through.”
Sorcha thought she knew what Rico had been through, but he wasn’t nursing a broken heart over a lost baby. That was what made this so hard. This wasn’t a matter of mending his heart. Or finding it. It was a matter of him wanting to give it to her. And he didn’t.
But she only nodded again, protecting the secret Rico had entrusted to her.
“It will all be worth it, Poppy. I promise you,” Sorcha said with a squeeze of her arm. “In the meantime, you have me. I’m happy to help you navigate this new world. When I was in your position, I needed help, too. One of these days we’ll go shopping with my friend Octavia. She really does know how to make all of this look easy. For now, let’s go to my closet. I’ll show you what is absolutely essential. Try not to faint.”
* * *
Poppy could feel Rico’s heart slowing to lazy slams beneath her breast. Her sweating body was splayed bonelessly across him. She knew she ought to move, but he stroked his hand down her spine and traced a circle on her lower back, making her shiver. She clenched around him in a final aftershock of ecstasy.
He turned his head, brushing his lips against her temple in what she took as a signal to move. As she started to pry herself off him, however, his arms closed more firmly around her.
“You can stay right here all night,” he murmured lazily.
“Don’t you want to go to the guest room?”
His arms dropped way from her. She rolled off him.
“Do you want me to?” All the indolent warmth disappeared from his tone.
“No.” Her voice was barely audible. “But why are you staying? Because you feel sorry for me?”
“No. Why would you think that?”
“You slept with me last night because I was crying.”
“I came to bed with you because you were crying. I stayed because I wanted to.”
“You didn’t want to those other nights?”
A sigh.
“Rico, I keep telling you I’ve never done this before. This might be how you normally conduct a sexual relationship, but it’s not the way I thought marriage was supposed to be.”
He bit off a laugh. “This isn’t normal. That is the problem, Poppy.” He sighed and repeated more somberly, “That is the problem.”
Even she, with her limited experience, understood that their passion was exceptional. She had climaxed three times before he’d clasped hard hands to her hips and bucked beneath her, releasing with a jagged cry. She imagined she would have fingerprint bruises under her skin and perversely enjoyed having such an erotic reminder linger for days.
Sex was the easy part. Talking to him, catching him alone and digging up the courage to speak her mind and face difficult answers was the hard part. But she made herself do it.
“Is that why you haven’t wanted to sleep with me? Too much sex? Am I being too demanding?”