It was so inspiring, nothing but her, the ocean, and the bright horizon. How did Cooper know exactly what she needed?
Her mind drifted, and she felt that now-familiar skip in her stomach, remembering their date last night. How it had felt, sitting across the table, laughing for hours, sharing stories and old jokes, and gradually peeling back the layers of his gruff defenses until the real Cooper was revealed.
He wasn't the man she'd thought he was. Sure, he could be prickly, and seemed to enjoy getting under her skin, but there was so much more to him, too. He was kinder than he'd ever admit, and seemed proud to be a part of the community here in town. And as for generosity . . . Poppy looked around her snug little cabin. Not many guys would conjure up a perfect writing spot out of thin air like this.
She checked her phone again. No response to her earlier message. She was terrible at texting, and had never understood how her friends seemed to carry on whole relationships through their phones, but she tried her best to think up another casual message. In the end, she snapped a picture of the sand, with her boots sticking up at the bottom of the frame.
Writing hard, thanks for the view!
She hit send, then immediately wondered if she was being too pushy. Dating felt like a minefield, especially when she wasn't even sure if what they were doing was dating at all. Dinner, a movie, a kiss-with any other guy, she'd take them as signs he was interested. But Cooper? He played his cards too close to his chest to even tell.
Not that she had time to sit around obsessing. Poppy tucked her phone away and reached for her laptop again. She was meeting Mackenzie for her book club at four p.m., which meant she had another few hours to make some real progress on her book.
Men in real life might still be a mystery, but at least she knew exactly what would happen with the ones on her page.
Cooper was picking up groceries at the store in Provincetown when someone rammed into his cart from behind.
"Hey!" he turned, ready to give them a piece of his already-surly mind, but instead of a reckless frat bro, he found a familiar face.
"Hey, stranger." Mackenzie beamed. "How's it going?"
He relaxed. Mac was an old friend, but he'd been so busy lately with the construction job that he'd barely seen her around town. "Not bad," he said, "just stocking up."
"Me too. All the essentials."
He glanced over. Mackenzie's cart was filled with chips, salsa, and two cases of wine. "Things really that bad?" he asked, and she laughed.
"I'm buying up for book club," Mackenzie said cheerfully. "You know Franny likes her tipple. What about you, cooking for one?" She peered into his basket. Cooper saw a gleam in her eye, and knew it wasn't an innocent question.
"Last I checked," he replied casually, but she wasn't so easily dissuaded.
"You could invite Poppy over," she said with a smile. "Wow her with your grilling skills, or . . . other talents."
Cooper glared. "You mean sawing a two-by-four?"
"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Mackenzie grinned. She really was impossible. Cooper fixed her with a "subject closed" look and moved down the aisle, but Mackenzie dogged him all the way to the cereal shelves. "I mean it," she said, trailing him. "Poppy seems great, and she doesn't altogether hate you, which is an excellent start, don't you think?"
"Mac," he said, warning.
"What? She's pretty and smart, and if you got together, she might even give up June's soup recipe, and then you can stop coming to all the town events you hate."
"I don't hate them," he replied, irritated. "You, on the other hand . . ."
Mackenzie planted herself in front of him. "How long have I known you?"
Cooper sighed.
"Well?"
"Too long," he replied.
"Sixteen years, and counting," Mackenzie said, ignoring him. "And in that time, how many women have I tried to set you up with?"
"None." Cooper reached past her for some Wheaties. "I always thought it was because you knew better, but somehow here we are."
"It was because you were always too pig-headed to listen," Mackenzie said, grabbing the cereal box out of his hand. She fixed him with a look. "And I never met a girl I'd want to inflict you on."
"And that's changed?" Cooper growled.
"Yes." Mackenzie glared at him. "You've changed. You're turning into a grumpy old man, one of those guys we always laughed about. Ever since Laura, all you do is work, or drink, or bang tourists who won't be around come Labor Day. You're better than this, Cooper. You deserve good things, and Poppy could be it."