“Rune, think of Poppy,” my pappa pleaded.
I stopped dead and turned back to him. “She’sallI’m thinking of. You have no idea what it’s like for us, so how about you stay the hell out of my business. James Litchfield too.”
“She’s his daughter!” my pappa argued, his voice sterner than before.
“Yeah,” I argued back, “and she’s the love of my life. And I’m not walking away from her, even for a second. And there’s nothing either of you can do about it.”
I stormed through my bedroom doorway, as my pappa shouted, “You’re not good for her, Rune. Not like this. Not with all the smoking and drinking. Your attitude. The chip on your shoulder about everything in your life. That girl worships you, she always has. But she’s a good girl. Don’t be her ruin.”
Stopping in my tracks, I glared at him over my shoulder and said, “Well I have it on good authority that she wants a little more bad boy in her life.”
With that, I pounded past the kitchen, only briefly looking at my mamma and Alton, who waved at me as I passed. I slammed the front door and walked down the steps, lighting a smoke as soon as I hit the grass. I leaned back against the railings of our porch. My body was like a live wire at what my pappa had said. At what Mr. Litchfield had done. Warning me off his daughter.
What the hell did he think I was going to do to her?
I knew what they all thought of me, but I would never hurt Poppy. Not in a million years.
The front door of Poppy’s house opened. Savannah and Ida rushed through, Poppy following right behind. They were all talking at once. Then, as if feeling my heavy gaze, Poppy’s eyes drifted to the side of my house and focused on me.
Savannah and Ida looked over at what held her attention. When they saw me, Ida laughed and waved. Savannah, like her daddy, stared at me with quiet concern.
I flicked my chin at Poppy, telling her to come over. Poppy made her way to me slowly, Ida and Savannah on her heels. She looked beautiful, as always. Her red skirt came to mid thigh, black tights covering her legs, small pixie boots on her feet. Her navy coat was covering her top half, but I could just see her white shirt underneath, a black tie around the collar.
She was so damn cute.
Poppy’s sisters dropped back as Poppy stood in front of me. Needing to reassure myself that I had her, that she had me, I pushed myself off the railing, throwing my smoke to the ground. Cupping Poppy’s cheeks with my hands, I pulled her to my lips, crashing my mouth to hers. This kiss wasn’t gentle. I hadn’t planned it to be. I was branding her, marking her as mine.
And me as hers.
This kiss was a strong flick of the middle finger to anyone who tried to get in our way. When I pulled back, Poppy’s cheeks were flushed and her lips wet. “That kiss better be going in your jar,” I warned.
Poppy nodded, dumbstruck. Giggles came from behind us. When I looked, Poppy’s sisters were laughing. At least Ida was, Savannah was pretty much just gaping.
Reaching down for Poppy’s hand, I clasped it in mine. “You ready?”
Poppy stared at our hands. “We’re going to school like this?”
I frowned. “Yeah. Why?”
“Then everyone will know. They’ll all talk, and—”
I smashed my lips to hers again, and, when I pulled back, said, “So let them talk. You never cared before. Don’t start now.”
“They’ll think we’re boyfriend and girlfriend again.”
I scowled. “We are,” I said plainly. Poppy blinked, and blinked again. Then, extinguishing my anger completely, she smiled and fell into my side. Her head rested on my bicep.
Looking up, she said, “Then, yes, I’m ready.”
I let myself hold Poppy’s gaze for a few seconds longer than normal. Our kiss may have been a middle finger to anyone who didn’t want us together, but her smile was a middle finger to the darkness in my soul.
Poppy’s sisters ran to our side and joined us as we started walking toward our schools. Just before we turned toward the blossom grove, I glanced back over my shoulder. Mr. Litchfield was watching us go. I stiffened when I saw the stormy look on his face. But I gritted my teeth. This was one fight he was definitely going to lose.
Ida chatted the entire way to her school, Poppy laughing fondly at her youngest sister. I understood why. Ida was a miniature Poppy. Even down to the dimples on her cheeks.
Savannah was a different personality altogether. She was more introverted, a deep thinker. And clearly protective of Poppy’s happiness.
With a quick wave goodbye, Savannah left us to go into the junior high school. As she walked away, Poppy said, “She was real quiet.”