married for a while now,” he said with a nod of his head, trying to sound prosaic about it. “It’s always been a dream of mine.”
Did he really just say that?
“Really?” Clearly Poppy didn’t believe it either.
But he mustered his most sincere look —this would all be so much easier if I could just control her thoughts —and he forced a smile, the gesture tinged with melancholy. He hoped.
“It’s been something I’ve wanted since childhood. That special someone to share my life with, to raise a family with, to have as a best friend and lover. Forever.”
He fought the urge to wince. Had he poured it on too thick? From the dazed look on Poppy’s pixie face, he had. Oh well, it was out there. He was going to have to run with it.
“So what do you think? Do you think you could help me?”
She gaped at him as if he’d asked her if she’d be willing to give him a kidney. He tried not to be offended by her aghast expression. Did she really find his request so impossible a task? He was a good-looking guy, and he’d never had problems getting human women before. Her incredulity bothered him, more than he would have liked.
“I don’t think you need my help,” she finally said.
“Why not?”
“Look over there.” She jerked her head slightly to the left. He did, only to discover a blond woman seated a row away, watching him. She smiled as soon as he met her eyes. A wide, inviting smile. A smile that all but asked him to come join her.
He forced a polite smile back, then returned his gaze to Poppy.
“I don’t want her. I don’t like blondes,” he said, saying the first thing that came into his mind.
Poppy gave him another look of disbelief. “Well, I’m sure any number of brunettes or redheads would fall over themselves for your attention.” She stood then. “I really should get home. I do have some work I need to get done.”
She started walking away before he could even get to his feet. He gave a longing look at his half-eaten cinnamon bun, but left it behind.
As he passed the blonde, she smiled at him again; this time her look was filled with sympathy. She’d obviously seen Poppy’s abrupt departure.
“Problems?”
He nodded automatically. So many problems.
“Well, call me if you need a sympathetic ear.” The blonde had a business card out and pressed in his hand with the speed of a Vegas magician.
The woman’s forwardness oddly disgusted him. Why, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t bother to respond; instead he hurried his steps to catch up with Poppy, confused by her reaction and by his own.
* * *
The subway ride back to Poppy’s apartment building was as silent as their first trip. Killian attempted conversation a couple of times, but Poppy was lost in her own thoughts and unwilling to do much more than give him a one-word response. Eventually he just gave up, getting lost in his own thoughts.
He still wasn’t quite sure what had triggered this coolness in Poppy. They’d actually had a nice lunch, but once again, he’d said something that ended up pushing her away.
As before, he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d said that had been so offensive. Relating to people was hard work.
“I hope you found some places to research today,” she said as the old elevator shimmied and shook, taking them up to her floor.
“I did.” He struggled to find something to say that would possibly smooth things over between them. But nothing came to mind. Damn, he wanted his powers back.
She nodded as if she didn’t know what else to say either. The metal doors shuddered open and she stepped out.
“Have a good afternoon,” she said with an aloof nod, and before he could think of what else to say, the elevator doors closed again, leaving him staring at his own bleary reflection in the scratched metal.
He remained that way until the elevator jerked to a stop again and the doors parted. Automatically, he stepped out, then stood there, trying to decide what to do next.
Was this even
Did he really just say that?
“Really?” Clearly Poppy didn’t believe it either.
But he mustered his most sincere look —this would all be so much easier if I could just control her thoughts —and he forced a smile, the gesture tinged with melancholy. He hoped.
“It’s been something I’ve wanted since childhood. That special someone to share my life with, to raise a family with, to have as a best friend and lover. Forever.”
He fought the urge to wince. Had he poured it on too thick? From the dazed look on Poppy’s pixie face, he had. Oh well, it was out there. He was going to have to run with it.
“So what do you think? Do you think you could help me?”
She gaped at him as if he’d asked her if she’d be willing to give him a kidney. He tried not to be offended by her aghast expression. Did she really find his request so impossible a task? He was a good-looking guy, and he’d never had problems getting human women before. Her incredulity bothered him, more than he would have liked.
“I don’t think you need my help,” she finally said.
“Why not?”
“Look over there.” She jerked her head slightly to the left. He did, only to discover a blond woman seated a row away, watching him. She smiled as soon as he met her eyes. A wide, inviting smile. A smile that all but asked him to come join her.
He forced a polite smile back, then returned his gaze to Poppy.
“I don’t want her. I don’t like blondes,” he said, saying the first thing that came into his mind.
Poppy gave him another look of disbelief. “Well, I’m sure any number of brunettes or redheads would fall over themselves for your attention.” She stood then. “I really should get home. I do have some work I need to get done.”
She started walking away before he could even get to his feet. He gave a longing look at his half-eaten cinnamon bun, but left it behind.
As he passed the blonde, she smiled at him again; this time her look was filled with sympathy. She’d obviously seen Poppy’s abrupt departure.
“Problems?”
He nodded automatically. So many problems.
“Well, call me if you need a sympathetic ear.” The blonde had a business card out and pressed in his hand with the speed of a Vegas magician.
The woman’s forwardness oddly disgusted him. Why, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t bother to respond; instead he hurried his steps to catch up with Poppy, confused by her reaction and by his own.
* * *
The subway ride back to Poppy’s apartment building was as silent as their first trip. Killian attempted conversation a couple of times, but Poppy was lost in her own thoughts and unwilling to do much more than give him a one-word response. Eventually he just gave up, getting lost in his own thoughts.
He still wasn’t quite sure what had triggered this coolness in Poppy. They’d actually had a nice lunch, but once again, he’d said something that ended up pushing her away.
As before, he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d said that had been so offensive. Relating to people was hard work.
“I hope you found some places to research today,” she said as the old elevator shimmied and shook, taking them up to her floor.
“I did.” He struggled to find something to say that would possibly smooth things over between them. But nothing came to mind. Damn, he wanted his powers back.
She nodded as if she didn’t know what else to say either. The metal doors shuddered open and she stepped out.
“Have a good afternoon,” she said with an aloof nod, and before he could think of what else to say, the elevator doors closed again, leaving him staring at his own bleary reflection in the scratched metal.
He remained that way until the elevator jerked to a stop again and the doors parted. Automatically, he stepped out, then stood there, trying to decide what to do next.
Was this even
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