CHAPTER 83: CHAPTER 83: WE’RE GOING TO TAKE IT OFF ANYWAY

Iris held Poppy Hale’s hand.

"Aunt Poppy, my mom wants Florence to come over to my house this weekend to play. Is that okay?"

Heather Underwood heard Iris Quill say he even stayed over one night at Florence’s place.

He ate a lot there.

He wanted to take the opportunity to invite Florence to his house to play too.

Florence looked at Poppy Hale with an expectant face.

She didn’t have many friends.

Nor had she ever been to a classmate’s house.

Poppy Hale thought for a moment, unable to resist the big, bright eyes of her daughter and Iris both looking at her.

They even mimicked the meerkat from cartoons, putting their hands together in a pleading gesture.

Constantly begging her.

Poppy Hale’s heart softened instantly, completely defenseless.

"Alright. I’ll ask Iris’s mom if we should bring anything over."

Iris immediately chimed in, saying there was no need to bring anything.

"Our house has everything!"

The car stopped in front of a restaurant.

A waiter, carrying several food containers, approached with ease, placing the boxes in the passenger seat before leaving.

This time, the navigation was set to Poppy Hale’s neighborhood.

After getting out of the car, Declan Hawthorne carried the food boxes, holding Iris.

The chubby little boy wriggled in Declan’s arms, looking around.

He murmured softly, "This place looks familiar. Uncle, is your house here?"

"You’re mistaken."

Last time, Heather had brought the little one here, not expecting the kid to remember.

Declan Hawthorne had many houses, so Iris couldn’t recall if it was here.

He was more concerned about the food boxes Declan held.

In the elevator, Iris questioned, "Uncle, why are we going to Florence’s house for dinner?"

There was a full mirror in the elevator.

Declan’s gaze caught Poppy’s in the mirror.

He smirked slightly, perhaps just raising the corner of his mouth by a pixel.

"Aunt Poppy and I have some work to discuss."

Iris stuck out his tongue.

"Uncle is really mean."

"Feeling bold, are you? Can you read the picture book I bought you last time?"

Iris immediately quieted down, reaching out his dough-like chubby hand to cover Declan’s mouth, shushing several times.

In a babyish voice, he spoke like an adult.

"Alright alright, Mr. Hawthorne, please don’t say things I don’t like to hear."

It was comically cute.

Poppy Hale laughed out loud.

Once again, her gaze met the man’s in the mirror.

As she laughed joyfully, the arc of his mouth widened significantly.

After entering the house, Poppy went to get the tableware.

Declan had bought a few dishes in advance, all very light, along with a portion of sweet and sour pork for the two kids.

Kids mostly liked soft, easy-to-chew, sweet-flavored foods.

The house only had one children’s high chair.

Declan placed Iris in it, then turned to hold Florence, setting her on his knee.

He didn’t feel he was being unfair at all.

Luckily, Iris just wanted to eat and didn’t care about such treatment.

On the dining table, there was a steamed fish dish that Florence eyed several times.

Declan used her chopsticks to pick up a piece, carefully removing any possible bones and cutting it into small pieces before placing it back in Florence’s bowl.

Florence ate it, then squinted her eyes.

"Delicious. Thank you, Uncle Hawthorne."

"If you like it, I’ll take you to eat more next time."

Poppy Hale bit her chopsticks.

It was wild Eastern Star Grouper, costing over a thousand per pound.

Not the kind of ingredient you could have on the table just by saying you liked it.

Only Declan Hawthorne would spend this kind of money without blinking an eye.

Florence quickly got full.

Declan set her aside to play on her own before he started eating.

The dining table was round.

Florence didn’t wander far, sitting on a stool between Declan and Poppy, swinging her little feet as she watched them eat.

As Poppy watched Florence sitting obediently nearby, a sudden spark of electricity passed through her heart.

Florence really liked Declan.

It was probably the magic of blood ties.

Every time she got close to Declan, Florence was delighted.

Even after eating, she was reluctant to leave, wanting to stay with him.

Florence rested her chin in her hands, looking at Poppy.

"Mom, I saw auntie and the little brother today. Auntie seemed like she wanted the little brother to come to our kindergarten."

The "auntie" she mentioned was Sean Lynch’s ex-wife.

They had a child who, due to being in the breastfeeding stage during the divorce, stayed with the mother.

He was a bit older than Florence.

Poppy paused with her chopsticks.

She had been busy with grandma’s funeral, her father’s health, and the soon-to-be-born daughter, so she didn’t have time to care about Sean’s matters.

Now, thinking about Sean’s son’s birthdate.

How could Stella have dared to seduce a married man, and how could Sean have cheated during his wife’s pregnancy?

Poppy felt a surge rise in her chest, twisting in her stomach, making her suddenly feel immensely nauseous.

Her appetite disappeared.

Poppy set down her chopsticks.

"What else did the aunt say to you?"

Florence shook her head, "Nothing much."

She didn’t touch her chopsticks again, and Declan glanced over a few times.

"Not eating?"

"No appetite."

The phone on the table received several messages.

Heather Underwood had added Poppy Hale on WeChat and probably finished her work, sending over a few messages.

"Poppy, is Iris at your place? He messaged me saying he’s having dinner at your house. What a child, causing you trouble!"

Poppy replied, "No problem. His uncle is also here."

Heather already knew from Iris that Declan was there too.

The little kid couldn’t type and didn’t know when he sent the voice message to Heather.

Heather: "One thing at a time. You should bring Florence over this weekend. Let’s have a good drink together, sister!"

Reading this, Poppy could almost imagine Heather’s tone.

Quite different from their first meeting.

Probably, the marriage had worn away Heather’s former bravado, but now, having escaped the mire, she shimmered again.

After chatting with Heather, Declan finished eating.

Poppy got up to clear the table.

Declan stopped her.

"I’ll do it. There’s a dishwasher. You go prepare the drawing tools and the place."

He emphasized the word "place."

Poppy thought about the scene he wanted her to draw.

Indeed, not suitable for children.

A flush rushed to her face, and Poppy quickly turned, going to tidy up the small room.

Mrs. Hale hadn’t returned yet, so it could temporarily serve as her workspace.

After Poppy finished organizing the workspace, she saw Declan wearing a shirt and trousers, sleeves rolled up to his forearms.

Kneeling by her bed, he bent down to tuck in the blanket over the two kids.

His shirt was soaked with water, clinging to his abs.

She had heard water splashing earlier, assuming Declan didn’t know how to use the dishwasher.

Seeing the two kids, Poppy was surprised.

"Did you wash them?"

"Yes, they were clamoring to sleep, so I helped them wash."

Probably thinking that even though Florence was young, she was still a girl, Declan added, "Face, hands, feet, teeth, didn’t wash their bottoms."

Nightfall always made people feel dazed.

Coupled with his softly spoken words, afraid of waking the children.

When he looked at Poppy, a tender gaze seemed to ripple and expand in waves.

Poppy’s heart skipped a beat, and she turned to leave the room.

Declan followed her out.

She went to get a towel for him, handing it over, but he didn’t take it.

He went and sat in the small room, starting to unbutton his shirt.

"No need to wipe since it’ll be taken off anyway."