Meant to Be (Sweetbriar Cove #1)(30)

She checked the time. Six forty-five. Crap. She tore through her suitcase again, and-hallelujah-found a plain black tank buried in the bottom. It wasn't much, but with her fitted pair of jeans, a pair of ankle boots, and a cute necklace, it would work. She wouldn't cut it at a hot restaurant in the city, but this was Sweetbriar Cove: a sheer layer of red lipstick was about as dressy as she needed. Poppy gave her hair a final rumple, brushed a quick dusting of blush on her cheeks, and was throwing her keys in her bag the doorbell sounded.

"Coming!"

She forced herself to pause. Breathe. It was just dinner, she told herself, going to open the door. Just dinner, with Cooper. A friendly dinner with no expectations and-

"Hey."

Poppy's jaw dropped. Cooper was standing on the porch, but not the scruffy, work-boots-and-plaid Cooper she'd seen for the past couple of weeks. No, this man was smart and clean-shaven, with his hair brushed back out of his blue eyes, which somehow looked even brighter against the cornflower cotton of his crisp button-down shirt.

He leaned in to kiss her cheek, and Poppy could have sworn her stomach turned a slow pirouette.

"Um, hi," she stammered, and then immediately scolded herself for acting like such an idiot. "You look . . . smart."

"And there you were, thinking I didn't own a razor." Cooper flashed her a devastating smile. "Ready to go?"

"Yes!" Poppy blurted. "Except, I don't know where. I meant to look up some restaurants around here, but then I was writing, and-" 

"You lost track of time," Cooper finished for her. "That's OK, I figured you might not know the area. I have a place in mind, it's pretty casual, but they do the best seafood around."

"Casual's good," Poppy said, relieved. "I'm not exactly dressed for anywhere fancy."

"I don't know." Cooper gave her a quiet smile that made her blood run hot. "You look beautiful to me."

Oh god. Poppy turned away to hide her blush, and busied herself pulling on her coat and scarf. But she couldn't avoid his gaze for long, and soon they were in his truck, heading out along the coastal road, as Poppy tried to take deep breaths and keep her cool.

Why was she so flustered?

It was the rebound thing, she decided. This was the first guy she'd been out with since Owen, so of course she was nervous about doing it wrong. But even as she tried to convince herself it was totally normal to be melting down over a man's smile, she knew this wasn't about Owen. It was all Cooper.

"Did you get much writing done today?" he asked, glancing over.

"Yes, lots," Poppy replied, ignoring the afternoon she'd spent frantically obsessing over their date. "I think I'm going to be OK-thanks to you."

"What do you mean?" Cooper looked surprised.

"What you said to me the other night, about making my own fears the theme, it really helped. Unlocked something, I guess," Poppy explained. "I'm always nervous about putting too much of myself in my books, but you made me see I have to try this time around. I need to be honest about what I'm feeling, otherwise, how can I expect my readers to really connect?"

"That's . . . brave." Cooper chuckled. "I can't imagine pouring my heart out to millions of people."

"The strong, silent type, huh?" Poppy asked, a teasing note in her voice.

"I'll take that over 'emotionally blocked and distant,' " Cooper replied. He smiled, but Poppy could tell there was something behind his words.

She didn't push. They'd barely gotten the evening started, and her stomach was still spinning in an excited dance. Real talk could wait-until after the appetizers, at least.

"I felt that way too, to begin with," she answered instead. "It seemed like everyone reading my books would be judging me, thinking everything I wrote about my characters was really just about me. But it turned out to be the opposite. I guess if you call it fiction, you can get away with anything," she added, smiling.

"I took a look at one of them, you know." Cooper gave her a sideways glance. "This afternoon, I figured I should know what I was getting myself into."

Oh god! Poppy felt her face burning up. "Which one?" she asked, wracking her brain to figure out how bad it was. Some of her romances were sweet and innocent, but some of them . . . weren't.

Cooper chuckled. "Let's just say it was revealing."

Definitely one of the steamy ones.

Poppy thought about throwing herself out of the moving truck to escape the humiliation. She'd never had to deal with this before. Owen was the only guy she'd really dated since her career took off, and he'd never looked twice at her books. Now memories of all the sexy scenes she'd written flashed in her mind, those sensual descriptions and heated moments. They'd seemed so safe on the page, but now she had to look him in the eye and pretend like he hadn't just read some of her most private fantasies.