Meant to Be (Sweetbriar Cove #1)(19)

        

"You love it," Poppy teased. "You'll be the youngest executive chef in town if you keep this up."

"I don't know." Summer sounded tired. "These hours, all the petty kitchen in-fighting . . . Anyway, listen to me, this is supposed to be your pep talk!"

Poppy laughed. "I told you, I'm fine."

"You're better than fine," Summer insisted. "You're amazing, and you've done the right thing. Now both you and Owen get to find the person you're supposed to be with, instead of spending years trapped in an empty marriage resenting every time he chews too loudly."

"Well, when you put it like that . . ."

"Anyway, I better get back to work," Summer said. "I'm trying to plan the menus for next week, and I'm running short on inspiration."

"How about chicken soup?" Poppy suggested. Her pot was simmering nicely now, filling the kitchen with the delicious smell of herbs and broth. "Didn't I read somewhere that comfort food is the new big trend?"

Summer laughed. "I wish. If I dared serve that at Chez Andre, they'd probably throw down their silver spoons and storm out. But maybe a deconstructed coq au vin . . ." she mused. "With rosemary and gorgonzola soufflés . . ."

"There you go." Poppy smiled. "Good luck!"

"You too, babe."

She hung up and moved the pot off the flame. Outside, the spatter of rain had turned to a steady drizzle, and the clouds were darkening fast. Poppy paused at the window. Cooper's truck was still parked there, but with all the tarps flapping about where his roof was supposed to be, he couldn't be getting much shelter from the rain. It would be the neighborly thing to invite him in. After all, she had plenty of soup.

But he'd kissed her.

And insisted it was a mistake that meant nothing, she reminded herself. If he could pretend like it never happened, then she could, too.

As she deliberated, there was a rumble of thunder in the distance. The skies opened, and the drizzle became a deluge, pouring down and battering the bare construction frame next door. She saw a flash of movement, and then Cooper came hurrying through the storm towards his truck.

Poppy opened the back door. "Cooper!" she yelled, waving across the yard. "Come inside."

She beckoned, and he paused for a moment. Then the thunder rumbled again, and he changed direction, and veered across the yard towards her. He sprinted up the back steps and inside just as the sky flared with lightning.

She closed the door fast. Cooper was dripping wet, his hair plastered to his head and water running in rivulets over his cheeks. "You're soaked!" Poppy exclaimed, trying to ignore the fact he looked like some kind of Gothic romance hero, striding in out of the rain. "Here, let me get you a towel." She found one in the clean laundry pile and handed it to him, taking his wet jacket in return. She hung it by the door, and then moved some newspaper underneath to catch the drips of water. "Boots?" she demanded, and Cooper pulled them off. A smile played on the edge of his lips. 

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

She groaned. "God, don't ma'am me. I've got another ten years of 'miss,' I swear."

Cooper toweled off his wet hair and face. Even under his jacket, his clothes looked soaked. Poppy beckoned for them. "Let me put those in the dryer, before you catch a cold."

Cooper raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Trying to get me naked? At least buy me dinner first."

Poppy flushed. "I'll find you a bathrobe, or something to wear." She scurried out before he could see her cheeks burning red. She suddenly realized that for all her neighborly good intentions, she'd just invited the wolf through her door. The handsome, sexy wolf.

And told him to take all his clothes off, too.

Poppy ignored the slow flip in her stomach, and busied herself tracking down dry clothes for him to wear. Even her slouchiest clothes would be way too small for him, but buried in the closet in one of the guest rooms, she hit the jackpot: an old Indiana State T-shirt and some men's sweatpants, sized large.

"Success," she said, entering the kitchen with her bounty. She was braced for some kind of tension or awkwardness, but instead, Cooper was by the stove, with a spoon already dipping into the pan of soup. He paused, looking so much like a guilty schoolboy, she couldn't help but laugh. "Go change," she said, "I'll fix us a couple of bowls."

"Angel." Cooper flashed her a smile on his way out, so bright Poppy was thrown off balance.

Wow.

It was a good thing he was so grumpy, she thought. Otherwise that smile could do some serious damage. As it was, she had time to pull herself together-setting out two bowls, and a board with some hard cheese and the crusty loaf she'd bought in town the day before. When Cooper rejoined her, dressed in the sports gear, she didn't even notice the way the T-shirt pulled over his muscular torso, or how the loose sweatpants inexplicably hugged his ass.