Meant to Be (Sweetbriar Cove #1)(59)

Was it crazy to think like this?

She'd spent years writing about people who went to the ends of the earth for love. Moving to Sweetbriar, just to test the waters, seemed almost sensible in comparison. But this was real life, not the stories in her books, and Poppy didn't know if she was getting way ahead of herself in pursuit of that happy ending.



       
         
       
        

She'd never felt like this before.

Another burst of children's voices cut through her thoughts. The story-time was ending, and a group of parents and toddlers were chatting among the books. One small kid in a blue jumpsuit toddled determinedly towards Poppy, and collapsed with a thud on the carpet to examine the brightly-colored scarf spilling from her bag.

"Brady!" A blonde woman detached from the group and hurried over. "I'm sorry," she said with an apologetic smile. "Brady, that's not yours."

"It's OK." Poppy smiled. Brady was tugging the scarf out of her bag, looking amazed as the colors kept unfurling. "He can play if he wants."

"Thank you," the woman said, looking frazzled. "He's just at that stage where he wants to touch everything. I swear we've childproofed the house a dozen times, but he still finds something. We might just build an addition with no outlets, no wires, nothing."

"How old is he?" Poppy asked. Brady was happily chewing on the wool. He was plump and sturdy, wearing cute little red boots.

"Coming up on eighteen months. I'm Laura, by the way."

"Nice to meet you. Poppy."

"That's such a cute name." Laura brightened. "We wanted to be surprised by the sex, but I was so sure he'd be a girl I had a whole list of flower names picked. And then this munchkin comes along." She grinned affectionately and picked him up, cradling him easily on her hip. "Do you have kids?"

Poppy shook her head. "Not yet."

Laura bounced little Brady. "Well, when you do, two words for you: safety tape."

Poppy laughed. "I'll try to remember that."

"Anyway, sorry to interrupt."

"It's OK." Poppy checked the time. It was almost two, and she was set to meet Cooper. "I need to get going, anyway." She packed up her computer and gently retrieved her scarf from Brady's chubby little hands.

"Say goodbye, Brady." Laura waved, and Brady mimicked her with a gurgle.

"He's too cute," Poppy said.

Laura smiled. "It helps when it's two a.m. and he's teething, that's for sure."

Poppy shook Brady's outstretched hand, his fist closing tightly around her finger. "Nice to meet you," she told him, and he answered by gripping even tighter. "I'm going to need that back," she joked.

"Brady," Laura scolded him playfully. "What have I told you about stealing fingers?"

Poppy gently peeled her hand away, laughing. That's when she caught sight of Cooper watching them from across the room with the strangest expression on his face. 





19





Cooper felt it like a punch in the gut, watching two parts of his life collide right in front of him. Poppy, standing there, chatting to Laura as if it were the most natural thing in the world. They laughed together, cooing over Laura's kid, and every muscle in his body turned to lead.

The woman he was falling for and the one who'd taught him his love would never be enough. What sick joke was the universe playing, throwing them together in his face like this?

Poppy looked up and saw him, waving him over with a smile. Cooper wanted to bolt, but he forced his emotions back and walked over like nothing was wrong.

"Cooper." Laura blinked, looking surprised. "I didn't know . . . Hi."

Poppy looked back and forth between them. "You guys know each other? Of course you do," she added with a laugh. "I need to get used to this small-town thing. Let me guess, you went to elementary school together?"

"No, not quite." Laura gave him a soft smile. "It's good to see you, Cooper. How have you been?"

"Fine," Cooper answered shortly. She looked good, but then, she always did. Even the shadows under her eyes couldn't spoil Laura's natural glow. She bounced the kid on her hip, looking like she'd been born to be a mother. This was what she'd wanted. They'd planned for two kids, maybe three. Both of them had been only children, and they'd agreed they wanted a whole brood.

It came rushing back, the feelings he'd thought were behind him now. The guilt. The betrayal. Everything they'd dreamed together, and everything that had crumbled in the end. Because he hadn't been enough for her; he hadn't done enough to make her stay. His biggest failure was staring him straight in the face, and damn, it made him feel like a fool.