“I suppose CEPS could be putting together a plan for non-corporate events as well. I didn’t ask. I was too busy worrying about keeping my job.” She’d mumbled the last sentence so it was barely audible, but he heard it.

  “Wyatt’s not going to fire you.”

  First, she was his main squeeze’s bestie and if he wanted to get any loving ever again from Olivia, he’d better not fire Poppy. But more than that, she was smart and good at her job. Everyone loved her. Employees and guests alike.

  She lifted one shoulder. “If he doesn’t think my ideas are any good, I’m not sure I want to stay.”

  Well, shit. He hadn’t considered that she’d leave on her own, just up and quit, if she lost out to these CEPS people.

  He narrowed his eyes, hating these CEPS people and pretty pissed at his brother too for bringing them into the picture.

  Poppy might feel helpless, but he wasn’t. He was a Wilder. It was about time he started to take advantage of that fact.

  She raised her gaze to him. “It’s fine. Whatever happens, happens.”

  He grunted a noncommittal reply to that which elicited a short sniff of a laugh from her.

  “Why do you care anyway?” she asked.

  He lifted a brow. “I care a lot. About a lot of things. Least of all, my family’s hotel.”

  About time he reminded her he was as much a Wilder as Wyatt. Just because he didn’t sit at a desk for a living didn’t make him less so.

  He flipped the folder closed. “None of this is getting decided tonight. Go home, Poppy. It’s late.”

  She reached for the folder still in his hands. “I just want to—“

  He pulled the folder away, holding it just out of her reach.

  “Nope. The work day is done. Go to Rosie’s. Get something to eat. Have a drink with Eva at the Last Call if you want, but no more work. Not tonight. These shit ideas will still be here tomorrow. Staring at them all night won’t do you any good. Maybe everything will look different when you’re fresh in the morning.”

  She sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

  “What’s that?” He cupped a hand to his ear and smiled. “Did you just say I’m right?”

  She screwed up her pretty little mouth. “Don’t push it.” She held out one hand for the folder.

  Still keeping it in his possession, he said, “Can I trust you not to work more tonight?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

  “Okay.” He smiled and handed it back to her. Standing, he touched a fingertip to the delicate petals of one pink peony. “Nice flowers.”

  She let out a snort. “Yeah.”

  “You don’t like them?” He frowned at the vehemence in her answer.

  “Oh, I love them. I just don’t love who they’re from.” As he drew back and decided what to do with that insult, she continued. “I found them here on my desk with that folder. They have to be from the corporate event guy.”

  Mother fucker. Son of a bitch. He did the work and some other guy was getting all the credit?

  Fuck that. Not gonna happen.

  She might be no happier that they were from him, but at least she’d be pissed at the right guy.

  “They’re from me.”

  “What?”

  “The flowers. The other day I noticed yours were dying so I picked these up and put them on your desk while you were at lunch.”

  “Oh.” It took her a second before she said, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He turned on one boot heel. Let her chew on that for awhile. He was late for dinner with the fam. But tonight, before going to sleep, he was going home to write down the shit ideas he remembered from her folder. And then he supposed he’d have to figure out what to do with them.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Back in her apartment over Rosie’s, Poppy sat at the table and took the CEPS folder out of her tote bag in spite of her promise to Ethan she wouldn’t work anymore tonight.

  Technically, she wasn’t. She’d left work and had come home. She just happened to bring the folder with her.

  Pen in hand, she stared at the list, wracking her brain to come up with some idea CEPS hadn’t.

  Motion on the bed drew her attention. She glanced up to see Eva, propped up against the pillows, taking off her giant headphones and frowning.

  “When did you get home?” Eva asked looking slightly thrown to look up and see her there, even though she lived there.

  “A couple of minutes ago. Didn’t you see me come in? I said hello.”

  Eva shook her head. “I get in the zone when I’m coding.”

  “Oh.”

  Coding. That sounded innocent enough. Much better than their other theory of what Eva did—hacking.

  “Work?” Eva asked as she closed her laptop and climbed off the bed.

  “Yes. That stupid company that Wyatt brought in has this whole huge plan for events for the Wilder, including my idea about the wine tasting. That’s what Corporate Ken left on my desk during lunch. His plan. So now I have to come up with something different, which is going to be impossible.”

  She peeked at the glossy printed page in the folder then wrinkled her nose. “Good luck.” She continued to the fridge and opened the door. “Did you eat dinner?” Eva asked as she grabbed a can of diet soda.

  Poppy let out a short laugh. “Why is everyone so concerned about me eating dinner? And yes, I grabbed some soup at the hotel and ate at my desk.”

  “Everyone?” Eva’s red brows rose as she turned. “Who else is concerned?”

  Shit. Now she was in for it. After a hesitation, Poppy finally said, “Ethan stopped by my office.”

  “Oh, did he?” Eva asked, her tone loaded with innuendo.

  It was tempting to dismiss Eva and her ridiculous ideas about her and Ethan, but tonight was different. Tonight, she had reason to think twice about if maybe Eva was right.

  “He, uh—“ She knew she was going to regret this, but she forged ahead anyway. “He bought me flowers.”

  Eva’s eyes widened. Worse, the shock had her speechless. Usually the woman had too much to say.

  “And don’t look like that. We know he’s a flirt. We know he’s a player,” Poppy said.

  “And we know that secretly, deep down, you like him,” Eva added.

  “No.” Poppy shook her head. “No,” she repeated just to drive her point home. “I’m steering clear.”

  “We’ll see.”

  She resisted the urge to tug at her hair in response to her least favorite phrase of Eva’s.

  “I’m just saying Ethan could be good for some things, if you know what I mean.” Eva’s nod managed to hold all sorts of insinuation as to what Ethan might be good for.

  That was not going to happen. Especially not with a panty-dropping handsome cowboy who delivered too sweet compliments in a slow southern drawl and left you flowers on your desk.

  Poppy shook her head. “We can be friends, kind of, maybe. At least hang out with Livvie and Wyatt in a group, but if you’re hinting I could use him for sex,“ she whispered the word. “No. No way.”

  For so many reasons.

  Eva let out a laugh and shook her head. “Wow.”

  “What?” Poppy asked.

  “I wasn’t talking about you having sex with Ethan. I was saying you should use him to help you with your presentation for the Wilder. But interesting you jumped right to thinking about having sex with him.”

  “I didn’t—“

  “Oh, yeah, you did.”

  Poppy sighed. It was useless to fight. But was Eva right about the other thing? Could she and Ethan team up against CEPS? Should they? More importantly, would he even help her?

  He was planning to make a presentation himself. Or was that just a ruse to get closer to her? That tracked. She remembered the flowers. But she also remembered how intense he was at dinner, fighting her about what he thought was right for the Wilder so it could be family pride. And if it was, wouldn’t that mean he’d want to help her make the best presentation possible and beat CEPS?

  And heck, even if he was just interested in flirting with her that should make him want to help her too. So asking him seemed like a no brainer. Maybe. What did she know?

  As her mind spun, she realized that as smart as she was—or claimed to be—Ethan Wilder was one person she thought she’d had figured out, but it was very possible that she didn’t know or understand him at all.

  Eva sighed and stood again, wandering to the single kitchen cabinet in the apartment. She opened the door and scowled at the meager contents. “I’m hungry.”

  “I’m sorry. I never asked if you ate dinner. I’ll go with you if—“

  “No. I ate. I’m just…I don’t know. Peckish. We need to buy a box of cookies or something to keep in here.” Eva slumped back across the room and flopped onto the bed with a bounce.

  “Store-bought cookies when we live above Rosie’s?” Poppy asked.

  “I know.” Eva glanced down at herself. “What are the chances I’ll see half the town if I run downstairs in my oldest sweatpants?”

  “One hundred percent.” Poppy smiled. “Stay. I’m still dressed. I’ll run downstairs. What do you want?”

  She wouldn’t mind something for dessert for herself. Living here was going to pack on the pounds. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t sure she cared.

  “A cupcake,” Eva said. “Or maybe the cookies she made today… no. Definitely a cupcake.”

  She laughed at Eva’s indecisiveness. Eva and Wyatt’s five-year old were a lot alike when it came to their love of Rosie’s cupcakes—and their frequent bouts of indecision about what to choose.

  Eva moved to stand. “Let me give you money.”

  “I got it.” Grabbing her wallet out of her tote bag, she waved away Eva’s offer.

  “Thank you,” Eva said with a genuine smile.

  “You’re welcome.”

  A smile from her usually cranky roommate was worth the money and the walk.

  Downstairs Poppy reached for the door to Rosie’s when it swung open. And who stood blocking the door? Ethan Wilder, of course. She should have let Eva come down in her ratty sweatpants.

  “Funny seeing you here.” He grinned.

  “Not really. I live here.”

  “That you do. I’m a little jealous. You don’t have to drive to get the good stuff.” He tipped his chin toward the display case filled with sweets.

  “What are you doing here alone?” she asked.

  “I wasn’t alone a little while ago. Wilder family dinner. Every Saturday here at Rosie’s for the last five years. Remember?”

  She remembered. She’d just forgotten it was Saturday.

  “Everybody else left but I hung around here in town. It wasn’t worth driving home then back again for practice.”

  She frowned. “Practice? Practice for what?”

  “Rodeo championship is coming up,” he explained. “I’m going to a friend’s place. Me and a couple of guys are gonna jump on a few bulls tonight.”

  Bulls. Jeez. “Oh.”

  Even with the boots and hat and the occasional darlin’ peppering his speech, she sometimes forgot Ethan was actually a real cowboy. Not the movie kind. Not the advertising campaign kind. But an actual horse and cow wrangling cowboy who jumped on a few bulls in the evening. And he wasn’t the only one. There were lots of cowboys around here, unlike where she’d grown up in New York.

  For the past three months her life had been spent going from Rosie’s to the hotel and back again, with an occasional visit to the Wilder house for dinner. Her world had become very small, very fast.

  He eyed her. “You should come and watch sometime.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have time right now—”

  His stare kept her pinned as he said, “You should make time. You work too much for one. And for another, getting out will only help you in your job. How can you make plans for fun things for the tourists if you don’t do them yourself first?”

  She opened her mouth to protest but closed it again. He was right. She hated that. Raising her gaze, she saw his grin.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” he asked.

  She frowned, refusing to acknowledge it.

  “That’s okay. You don’t have to admit it. We both know it’s true.” He grinned wider.

  If that made him happy, this really would. “Ethan, I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Would you maybe—Never mind.”

  “Nuh, uh. Finish what you started.”

  “Would you help me with some local stuff?”

  “Local stuff?” he asked.

  “What’s around here, in the surrounding towns, driving distance for a day trip, for my presentation for Wyatt. I totally understand if you don’t want to—“

  “I’d love to. How’s tomorrow?” He beamed.

  “Um. Tomorrow is fine, I guess.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She nodded, encouraged and feeling hopeful for the first time all day. “Okay.”

  Was she looking forward to this? Crap.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ethan was just pulling into a parking space near Rosie’s late the next morning when his cell phone vibrated with a text. He shifted the truck into park, cut the engine and grabbed the cell from its spot in the cupholder in the center console.

  Linc: Did you seriously leave?!?

  His brother sounded pissed. Even if it was only a text message, the annoyance behind it came through loud and clear. Oh, well. He’d get over it.

  Ethan: I finished morning chores.

  Linc: WTF? There’s more to do today.

  That was true. They needed to ride the fence line and find and fix where the animals kept getting out, but that didn’t need to be a two man job. Linc could handle it. Or hell, their father loved a nice leisurely ride along the fences.

  Ethan: I have faith in you, bro.

  He swiped the screen to type in a text to Poppy and ignored the new incoming text from Linc, which no doubt had a few choice words for him inside.

  Ethan: I’m here. You ready to work?

  It took a few seconds but finally she responded.

  His lips twitched with a smile as he pictured her still in bed, all warm and sleepy. He smiled broader when he pictured himself there next to her.

  Poppy: What time is it?”

  Ethan: 9. Want me to bring up coffee to you?

  Poppy: Eva says if you come up here she’s pushing you down the stairs.

  Of course, in his scenario Poppy didn’t have a roommate. And definitely not one cranky and tall enough to follow through on her threat.

  Accepting this small defeat in hopes of a larger victory later, he typed in a response.

  Ethan: I’ll wait for you inside Rosie’s.

  Poppy: K. Be down shortly.

  He climbed down from the high vehicle and pocketed his cell. It wasn’t lost on him how different his interactions with Poppy were. His normal text exchanges with women usually had fewer words and greater results. Not to mention a healthy sprinkling of pictures of an intimate nature.

  Except for Olivia, Poppy might be the only female in his cell’s contact list he hadn’t hooked up with. He reached for the door to Rosie’s and amended that thought. Rosie was in his phone too from when he called in To-Go orders. He’d never hooked up with her either.

  Not that he wouldn’t have considered it under other circumstances. She was damn attractive for her age, and he wasn’t opposed to jumping a sizable age gap for the right woman. But Rosie was also dating Billy. Good mechanics were too hard to find to risk alienating one of the best right here in town. A man had to keep his priorities straight.

  But all the other women in his phone didn’t hold any appeal to him as he set his sights on the prize—Poppy. He was going to make that leap from friend zone to bedmate or die trying. Of course, that was assuming they were friends in her mind. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing if they weren’t friends. It would be easier to make a move.

  He considered that, and his next step in his pursuit of Poppy to follow up the flowers, as he headed for the usual Wilder family booth in the corner. Hesitating, he almost didn’t sit as he glanced at the table closer to the counter where Poppy and her friends always sat. They liked to be near Rosie to chat. Or maybe it was just they wanted to be next to the display case of desserts. Either way, every time he’d seen the girls here, they’d been at that table.

  “You’re here early,” Rosie said, grabbing a coffee pot and creamer before coming toward him from behind the counter. She paused, as if waiting for him to sit.

  “Yeah. I got some business to take care of.”

  Feeling the pressure to make a decision, he slid into the family booth. Poppy would have to come to his side of the cafe today. She’d probably not like that. That was fine. He enjoyed when she was all piss and vinegar with him. Spicy. Salty. Better than bland any day, especially in a woman.

  Rosie set the creamer down and poured him a piping hot mug of coffee.

  “I’ll need a coffee for Poppy too. She’s coming down.”

  Rosie’s brows rose expressively high on her forehead. “Oh is she?”

  Small town gossip. Even Rosie, who should be too busy for such a thing. Even when there was nothing to gossip about. Yet.

  “She’s who I have business with. Wilder Inn business.”

  She let out a snort. “If you say so. And she drinks cappuccino with cinnamon.”

  Of course, she did. Not a surprise. Nothing simple for little miss city girl.

  Ignoring Rosie’s insinuation that he was here for more than business with Poppy—true or not—he nodded. “All right. Then one of those then.”

  “I’ll wait until she gets here. She likes it piping hot.”

  Good to know. One minute with Rosie and he’d added all sorts of ammunition to his arsenal with which to woo Poppy.

  “Thanks,” he said and really meant it as he splashed a bit of cream into his mug.