“Yes,” I say, meeting his azure gaze. “Like a hole in the head.”
“Speaking of head . . .”
I laugh. Katherine gives us the nod to begin walking, and I plaster a smile on my face.
I spot my parents seated amongst the guests. My father looks bored, but my mother’s face? Her expression is full of pity as she blots the tears from her cheeks with a Kleenex. I roll my eyes.
I try my best to block out my mother’s face and turn my attention to Chase, who’s standing at the end of the aisle in his tux. He’s handsome. He’s everything I always wanted to see waiting for me at the altar, but he’s not waiting for me. He’s waiting for another woman. Now that I think about it, he was likely always waiting for another woman.
I should be just as miserable as everyone seems to want me to be, but for the first time since Chase and I broke up, I’m weightless. I dodged a bullet. Yes, all eyes are on me, and it’s awkward as hell, but it doesn’t matter. They don’t matter, and I’m not sad. I don’t feel anything. Well, I’m a little hungry, and still a teeny bit hungover.
“No regrets giving all that up?” Leo leans in. His scent of chestnut and sage assaults my senses. Combined with the salt, sand, and sea, it’s a heady mixture. Oh God, now I’m breathing him in like a coke addict?
“Not a single one.”
He stares at me, and I can’t read his expression, but I think he’s genuinely surprised. I don’t have time to ask why because we’re at the altar, and stealing the bride’s thunder at her ceremony isn’t in my plans today. Leo turns one way and I go another. As my gaze meets his again, it dawns on me that being Mrs. Vanderbilt was never what I wanted. Chase didn’t drive me to distraction, or make my heart pound as if it would explode. He didn’t frustrate me, excite me, or make me completely crazy the way a lover should. The way . . . oh, no.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I might need you to punch someone
Poppy
No, no, no, no, I chant to myself as Leo approaches the table. He holds out a hand. I glare at it. He frowns. “Come on, Pop Tart, you’ve danced with every other man in this room tonight. I think it’s my turn.”
I set my champagne glass down on the linen cloth. “I think I’d rather gnaw off my own hand.”
“Ouch. That hurts, Poppy. It really does.”
“I’d consider chewing off my leg, too, but I may need them both to run away.”
“Oh, you are on fire tonight,” he says in that annoyingly husky tone that makes my lady parts tingle. “Such a shame you’ll be going back to your bungalow alone.”
I scowl. “Screw you.”
“Well I was only asking for a slow circle around the dance floor, but we can absolutely work screwing into the equation.” Leo licks his lips, and I shiver. I want to die. This cannot be happening. I can’t be attracted to the man whore. I just can’t. “Come on, Poppy, don’t let my little brother upstage me. Please?”
“Well, since you begged so nicely,” I say, placing my hand in his. He wastes no time in pulling me to my feet and leading me out onto the dancefloor.
Leo tugs me close—too close. Far closer than I’m comfortable with, and while I’m there pushed up against his big, firm body, I can’t breathe. He effortlessly moves us around the floor, and my cheeks burn when I catch a glimpse of our reflection in the huge windows overlooking the garden. We make a handsome couple. No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
“You should know I’ve never needed to beg for anything, Pop Tart, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to now.”
My mouth gapes. What is he saying? This is not a thing that can happen. We are not crossing over to the dark side.
While I’m freaking out, Leo whisks us to the ballroom entrance, a small closed-in foyer separated by white gossamer curtains with two sets of doors leading into and away from the reception. Thank God, because I’ve never needed to flee a room full of people so fast in my life, and I’ve been in some pretty awkward situations.
He didn’t mean what he just said. It’s the island, or the salt water. It’s the magic of weddings—they make everyone crazy. It’s . . .
Leo leans in. My eyes grow round as saucers. The music dies away, and the sounds of the guests vanish as he grabs the nape of my neck and pulls me to him.
He runs his thumb over my bottom lip. My mouth parts with a sharp intake of breath, and then his lips are on mine. His tongue tangles with mine, and me? Well, I do what any insane woman would do when a fine, god-like specimen shoved his tongue in her mouth. I shove mine in his right back. I wrap my leg around Leo’s hip. His hot hand slides beneath my thigh, pulling me closer. The anger, the heat, the passion between us is everything. All consuming.
Our kisses deepen. My hands sink into his hair, and I can’t get close enough. And then it dawns on me . . . I’m kissing Leo. After all this time and tension between us, the barbed comments, the bickering, and the anger have all led to this one place, and . . . Oh my God, I’m kissing Leo.
I shove away from him, but my foot gets tangled with his and my arms pinwheel as I attempt to stop myself falling. I reel back. Leo reaches out, and then we’re falling, fumbling, stumbling to the ground, only my ass doesn’t hit hardwood but something wet and soft and much more smooshable. I glance at the ceiling, panicked and praying that this is all just some terrible nightmare. “Oh my God.”
“Oh, shit.” Leo. Freaking. Nass. The man who’s tormented me since we were kids in high school. The man who drove a wedge between the groom and me. The man who puts the whore in man whore, and who doesn’t believe in marriage, true love, or even a second date leans up on his elbows and looks upon me with the sort of hunger akin to a wild lion’s. Well, Simba be damned. This little lioness is about to show him the meaning of fear.
“GET. OFF!” I shove at his chest. Leo scrambles to his feet and offers a hand to me. I sit up, slap it away, and hiss, “What the hell did you do?”
“What did I do?” He straightens, and surveys the crime scene around me. “I didn’t do anything. You’re the one laying in five pounds of buttercream.”
“It’s ganache, you ass.” I shake my head. Leo chuckles. He freaking chuckles. “I’m sorry, but I don’t find any of this funny.”
“Well that’s because you’re not looking at it from the right angle.” He tilts his head as if he’s trying to get a better look at my lady bits. I snap my knees together so I’m not giving him a show, then—not without a few attempts on the Slip ’N Slide—I finally get to my feet. Frosting flies from my hands all around the small room as I make like Taylor Swift and shake it off.
“Oh my God, I’m ruined. This is . . . I’m never gonna work again. That promotion is going to go right out the window and I’ll have to resign. I’ll wind up alone, a crazy cat lady who ruins weddings.”
“Okay, Pop Tart, breathe.”
“Don’t call me Pop Tart,” I shout, then lower my voice so as not to draw any of the revelers from the ballroom. I point my finger in Leo’s face and a chunk of frosting flies off and lands right next to his mouth. His tongue darts out to lick it away, and my breath catches. “This is all your fault.”
Wait. Back up. Hold on a goddamn minute here. My breath shouldn’t catch when I’m with Nass the Ass. It shouldn’t . . . I’m not . . . oh my God. What is he doing?
Leo takes hold of my hand, and sucks my finger into his mouth. I make a sound halfway between a gasp of horror and a moan, and he releases my finger with a pop and leans in.
For the second time in as many minutes, time slows down. Leo moves in slow motion toward me, and I swallow hard.
A loud British screech comes from the doorway and Katherine is there with the stupid earpiece in her ear. Leo pulls her into the foyer and closes the doors to the reception area, then stalks across the room to the entryway and shuts those doors too. I’m locked in a room with my archenemies and a ruined wedding cake. I can’t breathe. I can’t . . .
“What did you do?” Katherine screeches.
“K
eep your voice down,” Leo says. I glance between the two of them, and suddenly, I’m feeling strangely lightheaded. My legs go out from under me, but Leo moves like a bolt of lightning, crossing the room to hold me upright. I’m not sure why. All I really want to do is sink into the ruins of that cake and cry myself to sleep—while I eat the frosting, because it would be an awful shame to waste it.
“Did you do this on purpose?” Katherine demands.
“What?” I hiss back.
“I know Chase left you at the altar, but would you really stoop this low?”
“Hey, this wasn’t her fault,” Leo says.
“No, it wasn’t,” I agree. “It was yours.”
“Sure,” Katherine says, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Because that makes sense as to why you’re the one wearing the cake.”
“He kissed me,” I protest.
Katherine dials a number on the screen. “I don’t care.”
“Who are you calling?”
“Jacinta. Who else?”
I shake my head, and grab her arm. My hand is covered in frosting, so it slips off easily, leaving a smear of ganache in its wake. “Oh my God, you can’t call her.”
“Uh, yeah, I can.” She raises the phone to her ear. “Jacinta, we have a code red. I repeat, this is a code red.” There’s a beat of silence, and then Katherine launches into a tale about me deliberately sabotaging this wedding and ruining the cake. She thrusts the phone at me, and I grapple for purchase with my slippery hands and hold it to my ear. “She wants to talk to you.”
“I didn’t intend to ruin it, I swear.”
“Poppy, I need you to tell me exactly what happened.” Jacinta’s voice comes through the receiver, and it’s not the tone she usually takes with me but then again, it’s not every day I ruin the cake at one of her weddings. I’m getting fired for sure. “Please don’t fire me. I know. I messed up bad. So bad. Colossally bad, but Jacinta, please, I can fix this. I don’t know how, but I—”
“Stop talking,” she snaps, and I do because she gives good boss voice. “I like you, Poppy. I think I’ve made that abundantly clear, but if it gets out that my second ruined the cake—a cake my clients spent thousands of dollars on—I will be ruined. Which means that you, too, will be ruined. Now, I’m sure you didn’t intend to destroy their wedding cake. I know it’s not in you to do that. I’ve also seen how you look at the best man.” Jacinta sighs. My eyes widen, and I turn away from Leo, hoping like hell he didn’t just hear that. “So, if I’m correct—and I suspect I am because when am I ever wrong? I can honestly say that he had something to do with this. I don’t believe it was intentional from either one of you, but that doesn’t change the fact that we now have a ruined cake, and around an hour before said cake is cut. So, find a way to fix it or you’re fired.”
“I-I won’t let you down, Jacinta.”
“I’m hoping you’re right, because both of our livelihoods depend on it,” she says, and hangs up. Katherine snatches the phone from me and walks out of the foyer into the main building, the door slamming closed behind her.
Leo takes a step toward me. “What are you going to do?”
I stare at the big, dumb, jerk who caused this entire mess, and I shake my head. I have no freaking clue.
“Give me your suit jacket.”
He frowns. “Why?”
“Just give it to me.”
“I don’t wanna.”
“Hand it over before I run this through your heart,” I say, grabbing one of the frosting-covered dowels from inside the cake.
Leo flinches and removes his jacket, passing it to me. I glance at the tag. Armani. No wonder he didn’t want to hand it over.
I slide my arms into each hole and shrug it on. It’s miles too big but I stomp through the doors that Katherine exited only moments ago and hit up the first bellman I find. He agrees to tidy the mess as quickly as possible, even suggesting to post an attendant inside the ballroom so they can divert any guests wishing to sneak away.
I hold my hand out to Leo, and he stares at it. “Wallet, now.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t wanna.”
“Leo . . .”
“Why do I have to take care of this shit?”
“Because you were the dumbass who got us into this mess, and you’re going to get us out.”
His brows shoot into his hairline, but he hands over a soft caviar-print leather wallet and I glance at the engraved logo. Also Armani. Well, now it’s ganache-covered Armani, but I’m sure it’s delicious.
I open the wallet and take out two one hundred-dollar bills and hand one to the bellman. “One for now, and you’ll get the second when you’ve kept them away from that disaster area.”
“Yes ma’am,” he says, tucking the Benjamin in his pocket.
I hand Leo’s wallet back and head for the exit. He follows close behind. “What are you doing?”
“I’m changing, because I can’t exactly walk back in that room covered in frosting.”
“Good point. So, I’ll just come with you, and you can get naked, and—”
“You’re lucky I’m not killing you right now, but I’m not letting you out of my sight until you fix what you broke.”
“What I broke?” His tone is incredulous. “If I recall it was your ass sitting on their cake, not mine.”
“You pushed me.”
“No, you pushed me. It’s not my fault you fell over your own feet.”
“You kissed me,” I hiss.
“Yeah, and you kissed me back.”
I sigh, because he’s right and I know I won’t win. Not against Nass the Ass. “It doesn’t matter. You were the one who leaned in.”
“Yeah, and you were the one who wrapped your hot little thighs around me.”
“Okay, it was one leg, and I didn’t really wrap it around you so much as I just kind of rested it on your hip.”
“Oh, you wrapped it. I could feel your grumpy cat trying to get closer to my cock.”
“Will you please stop talking?” We head outside to the bungalows, and I remove my shoes so I can walk faster. I have around an hour before everything turns to shit. I don’t have my phone with me on account of it being on the table where I left it when Leo asked me to dance, so I can’t call Katherine and get her to stall, which is why I need to be in and out. “Can you walk faster? You’d think with legs as long as yours, you’d be a bit quicker than you are.”
“Geez, Pop Tart. If I’d known you were in such a hurry to get me alone in your bungalow I would have just come last night. Oh wait, I did come last night.”
I gasp and turn to glare at him. “Tell me you did not masturbate while I was sleeping beside you. On second thoughts, no. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
“I didn’t, but I did whack it in your bathroom after I put you to bed.”
“Oh my God, there is seriously something wrong with you.”
“Yeah, it’s called Poppy Porter Is A Giant Pain In My Ass And Yet I Can’t Seem To Stay Away. Which leads me to ... why the hell am I here if we’re not getting naked?”
“Because I need help getting out of this hideous dress.”
“Why the hell didn’t you say so?”
“Like I could get a damn word in edgewise with your big mouth.” I stop in front of my door.
“Hey, speaking of mouth, remember that time you put yours on mine and shoved your tongue inside?” His breath stirs the tendrils of hair that have come loose from my chignon as I fish the keycard out of my bra, slide it in the lock, and step inside. “Wanna do that again?”
Yes. God help me, yes. Now that I have him alone in my bungalow all I want is to shove him down on the bed and take advantage on him.
What is wrong with me? It must be the residual high from last night’s cough medicine and champagne combo. It has to be, because the most infuriating man I’ve ever known just shoved his tongue in my mouth and successfully ruined my best friend’s wedding, and I want to bury his boner inside me. “No. Not
ever.”
“Okay, well, I’d be an idiot to believe that. Because ten minutes ago I figured out your problem isn’t with me—it’s with the fact that you want me just as much as I want you.” He snakes his arms around my waist from behind and kisses the nape of my neck.
A ragged breath leaves my lungs, but I shrug out of his embrace and attempt to remove his jacket. It doesn’t budge. It’s stuck with all the ganache, and I can’t get it off.
Leo moves toward me again. “Do you want me to help you out of your clothes or not?”
I sigh and allow him to grab my lapel. He slowly peels the jacket from my shoulders and lets it fall to the floor in a heap. I swallow hard as I glance up at him. He trails a finger over my collarbone. I’m just about to ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing when he lifts it to his mouth and licks the frosting off. I let out a deep, shaky breath and turn, lifting my hair so he can undo my dress. His hands are insanely warm against my flesh. The silk fabric is stuck to my back, and I might love cake, but I don’t love it this much. Leo’s hands trail lower as he unzips me. He attempts to slide the material off my body, but I clutch it close to my chest and whisper, “I can take it from here.”
“You know it’s really rather cruel of you to allow a man to unwrap a gift, and not let him enjoy what’s on the inside.”
“You know what’s worse? Taking liberties with a woman you have no right to take. Like that kiss. It almost always ends in disaster.” I walk toward the bathroom, content to let him stew on that, but there’s just one problem. These bungalows are built for couples, meaning there’s no lock on the door. I need to shower to rid myself of all this frosting, but Nass the Ass is in my room and while I may already be halfway there, I have no intention of getting naked in front of him. Again. The only thing I can do is keep him busy. “Will you grab that black lace gown from the closet?”
He gives me a wicked grin. “Are you trying to distract me, Pop Tart?”
“That obvious?”
“You’re as subtle as a sledgehammer, babe, but don’t worry. I’m not gentleman enough to care if you don’t want to get naked in front of me. Besides, I saw everything last night, and I do mean everything.”
Cake Page 11