Not Another Wedding

by Jennifer Mckenzie

  “Which, of course, he will.”

  “Of course.” Cami grinned and rested the glass on her belly. “Don’t worry, I’ve scoped out a corner where we can hide.”

  “Will there be room for both of us?”

  Cami laughed and pinched her. “That’s for calling me fat.”

  “Down, down, Auntie Pop-pop,” Holly demanded and spun in a circle when her feet touched the grass. “I go play,” she announced and darted off into the party.

  Poppy watched her run. She was a cute little thing, with her happy laugh and zest for life and shoes. Poppy adored her.

  “Who’s the babe?” Cami wanted to know.

  “What?” Poppy turned back and found her sister studying her with a knowing eye. “What are you talking about?”

  “The babe.” Cami gestured to her left with a cocked eyebrow.

  Poppy’s eyes followed the gesture and found Beck staring right at her. Why was he still watching her? Didn’t he have something better to do? Some other unsuspecting woman to stalk?

  She made a noncommittal sound and turned away, pretending she had no idea who Cami was referring to even though they’d both gawked at him.

  “Don’t play coy.” Cami took a step closer. Her swollen belly bumped Poppy’s hip. “He’s hot.”

  “No, he’s not.” She refused to look back at him. Bad enough she still felt his gaze on her.

  “Oh?” Cami’s eyes lit up. “I thought you didn’t know who we were talking about.”

  “I don’t.” Poppy brushed at her spotless dress. She sensed Cami still ogling Beck as if her life depended on it. She stopped brushing and frowned at her sister. “Quit looking at him. He’s going to think he has an invitation to come over.”

  “Good.” Cami upped her bald appraisal.

  “Cami.”

  “Mmm?”

  “Need I remind you you’re happily married with 1.8 children?”

  “I’m well aware of that.” A wistful sigh. “Who is he?”

  “I have no idea.” Poppy stuck to her lie.

  “Right,” Cami scoffed. “I saw you talking earlier and I refuse to believe you didn’t even get his name.”

  “Believe it.” If she refused to waver, she hoped Cami might.

  No such luck.

  “Then I think we should introduce ourselves. He probably doesn’t know anyone. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “Cami, no.” Poppy stepped sideways to block her path. She’d rather give up chocolate. And coffee. Forever.

  “But look at him standing there all alone. He needs a friend.”

  Poppy was immune to Cami’s wheedling tone. “I’m not going anywhere.” Cami’s belly knocked into her, but Poppy held her ground. “And neither are you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.” Poppy studied her sister’s face and realized resistance was futile. Cami would keep hammering and pushing until she got an answer. “His name is Beck.”

  She banked on the fact that giving in would satisfy her sister so they could shift to a new topic, preferably one that didn’t send her blood pressure skyrocketing.

  Cami had other plans. “Beck. Jamie’s cousin Beck?”

  Poppy startled. She hadn’t expected Cami to remember his name. She’d been out of high school for more than a year by then and had spent that summer hanging out with her boyfriend and now husband. “Uh, yes.”

  “The one you...you know.” Cami wiggled her eyebrows, implying exactly what “you know” she was referring to.

  Poppy felt her entire body blush. “How did you...”

  “You told me. Back when you were young and foolish.”

  “Right. Of course I did.” She eyeballed her sister.

  “Poppy, you tell me everything.” She put her hands on her hips. “Wasn’t there some swooning about the scent of sawdust?”

  Poppy closed her eyes. She’d forgotten that part. Beck’s family had been building a guesthouse, which he’d taken over for the night, setting out candles and flowers and romancing her out of her pants. Not that it had required much effort on his part. She’d been more than half in love with him even before he told her he was falling for her. She opened her eyes and disregarded the sudden ache in her chest.

  “He never did call,” Cami remembered.

  Of course, her sister would recall that particularly humiliating part of the story. Poppy snatched her wine back and took a large sip. “It’s in the past. I’m over it, though I’m not thrilled he’s here, so if you can prevent your hormones from introducing themselves, I’d be grateful.”

  Cami glanced over Poppy’s shoulder and sighed. “He sure grew up nice.”

  “Cami.” Poppy’s voice carried more than a warning note. More like a red alert complete with flashing lights, bullhorn and threats of being surrounded.

  “What?” Cami blinked, all innocence. “Maybe he regrets his former actions.”

  Poppy doubted that. “Let it go, okay?”

  “I thought you said you wanted to get back to dating.”

  “I do.”

  “So why not start now? It’s a wedding, romance is in the air.”

  Poppy stared at her sister. Had Cami forgotten how awful that time had been? How Poppy had cried herself to sleep for two weeks and spent her entire senior year single? The only reason she’d even gone to prom was because Jamie had dragged her. He’d been unaware of what had happened between her and Beck, and she’d been too embarrassed to tell him. “He’s a jerk.”

  “A handsome jerk,” Cami corrected.

  Poppy didn’t care. “Promise me you aren’t going to try anything.”

  Cami continued to gawk at Beck. “I make no promises. Being pregnant makes a woman do crazy things.”

  “I don’t think it’s just the pregnancy.”

  Cami glared. “I heard that.”

  “You were supposed to.”

  Poppy noticed Jamie break away from his entourage and head toward the house. Her pulse jumped. This could be her chance.

  “Where are you going?” Cami asked as Poppy started after him.

  “I’ll find you later, okay?”

  She walked off without waiting for an answer.

  CHAPTER THREE

  BECK FOLLOWED POPPY as she slipped through the crowd. People were getting into the party spirit now, kicking up their heels in time with the band, having a blast. The party was a hit. Beck barely gave it a second thought.

  He had other things on his mind. Like why Poppy Sullivan was pretending she didn’t know him. Saucy minx. He knew he wasn’t forgettable. At least, not according to the women he dated.

  He watched as she sidled around a large group, nodding cheerfully to those who called out her name, but never wavering in her path toward the house. He trailed after her. She’d grown up nice. Very nice.

  She’d always been attractive. He remembered those snapping blue eyes and her shiny fire-colored hair—he’d gotten up close and personal with them one memorable summer. And he wouldn’t be averse to doing it again.

  Assuming he could convince her to talk to him. And keep his mother from trying to shove Grace on him.

  He’d spotted his mother chatting up Emmy’s younger sister only minutes earlier. He didn’t need to be psychic to know the next phase in her plan would be to drag the poor girl over to him and proceed to try to force them to have a connection.

  She’d probably kick her plan into overdrive at the brunch on Sunday.

  The thought made the scotch in his stomach burn. While Beck had only met Grace briefly this afternoon, it had been enough to know his mother’s hopes of a love match were unfounded. Even if he did ever want to get married, Grace wasn’t his type. Not even close. She was pretty enough and seemed pleasant, but he wasn’t intereste
d.

  Beck watched Poppy’s butt as she slipped through the large sliding doors that led from the patio into the house. Now, there was a woman he found interesting.

  He followed behind her a minute later.

  The sliding doors opened into a spacious great room with a state-of-the-art entertainment system. Beck knew because he’d personally picked out the equipment for Jamie last Christmas. He might not spend a lot of time with his family, but he never skimped on gifts. He was pleased to see Jamie using it.

  The music and chatter from the backyard quieted as he closed the door and moved farther into the house. He knew the layout well since Jamie had grown up here and in the summer Beck had too.

  They’d spent their days racing from the pool to the kitchen and back again, sliding across the tile floor and ignoring their mothers’ warnings to be careful or they were going to crack their heads open.

  When Jamie had decided to turn the acreage into a winery a few years ago, he’d bought his mother out and moved back in. She’d purchased a small cottage closer to town and her weekly quilting club, which Beck knew only because he’d been roped into helping his aunt move. His insistence that it would cost him less to hire professional movers had fallen on deaf ears, and he’d found himself spending the weekend moving boxes from one house to the other.

  Until yesterday, that had been the last time he’d seen his aunt. He should probably make more of an effort. She’d always been good to him. But he didn’t have a lot of free time, and his responsibilities kept him busy in Seattle. He shouldn’t feel guilty because he didn’t spend his weekends flying in to be with his extended family.

  No sign of Poppy in the main room or the kitchen, which were attached in one long open space. He headed down the short hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom.

  And there she was.

  Standing in front of the closed bathroom door, her hands locked together in a tight grip. A thin strip of light shone from beneath the door. Obviously, she was waiting. Beck thought she needed some company.

  “Hello again.”

  She whirled to face him and scowled. “Do you mind?” She stepped back, bumping into the wall. “I’m busy here.”

  “Really?” He raised an eyebrow. She didn’t look busy.

  “Yes, really.” She scowled and rubbed the shoulder she’d banged. “Go bug someone else.”

  He placed his hand over hers. Her skin was soft and made him want to touch. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She shifted to the side, out of his reach. “And do you mind not pawing me?”

  In fact, he did mind. But he simply shrugged. He hadn’t come here to antagonize her.

  “What do you want anyway?”

  Her. In his bed. Again. But he didn’t think she’d like hearing that.

  “I came in here for some peace and quiet.” Not a total lie—he was avoiding another run-in with his mother—just not the total truth. “You seem pretty angry with me for someone who claims not to remember me.”

  The lines around her mouth deepened. “Fine, I remember you.”

  “It’s been a long time.” He leaned back against the wall opposite her. “Do I get a hello kiss?”

  She snorted, but he caught the way her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. “In your dreams.”

  “Come on, a couple of old friends reuniting for the first time in a decade? I think a kiss is required.”

  She tossed her hair. “We were never friends.”

  True. They’d been much, much more. His blood pounded at the memory. “Oh, I recall us getting pretty friendly one summer.” He peeled himself off the wall and ran his fingers through her fiery mass of hair. Still as silky as he remembered. “Very friendly.”

  “Beck—”

  “Yes.” He lowered his head. She smelled the same, like lavender. He inhaled, his entire body recalling how her scent used to wrap around him when she laid her head on his chest.

  “Get lost,” she told him.

  “Hey now. What’s with the attitude?”

  Her eyes pinned him, like a bug she’d like to crush beneath those pretty heels. “You seriously don’t remember?”

  “I remember a lot of things. Why don’t you tell me which memory we’re talking about?” His particular favorite had taken place in the now-finished guesthouse where he was staying for the week. He wouldn’t mind reliving that part of his youth.

  “You never called me.”

  He frowned. “Pardon?”

  “You never called me. After.” She poked him in the chest. “You didn’t even say goodbye. You just left.”

  “I meant to, but my mother—” He stopped. She was right. He’d never called. “There were extenuating circumstances.”

  “I’m sure.” Her lips puckered and not in the lean-down-and-kiss-me-big-boy way he was hoping for.

  “Would it help if I apologized?”

  “You have to ask?” She shook her head and her scent rolled over him. “Forget it. It happened a long time ago. I’m over it.”

  “I can see that.”

  She flicked her hair again. “I don’t want to be friends, Beck.”

  “What if I do?”

  “Why would you?” Her eyebrows drew together. “Are you trying to flatter me? Is this to show me you still find me appealing?”

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  She laughed. “Obviously, you haven’t changed. Why don’t you run along, find some other woman to work your charms on?” She made a flicking motion with her fingers. “Maybe she’ll enjoy your attention.”

  Maybe so, but Beck wasn’t going anywhere. She’d challenged him. Him and his manhood, and he didn’t intend to back down. “I don’t want another woman.” He placed a hand on the wall. “I want you.”

  “I’m not available.”

  “You married?” He didn’t do married. Not in any way, shape or form.

  There was a small pause, a smaller sigh. “No, but that doesn’t mean I’m available.”

  He smiled, more sure of himself now, and edged closer to her. “A serious boyfriend?” When she didn’t respond, he risked touching her hair again. “Not one of those either. You’re single.”

  “I’m still not available.”

  “I can change that.”

  She opened her mouth, no doubt to say something snarky that would be an attempt to put him in his place but would only serve to heighten his interest, when the bathroom door opened.

  “Hey, guys.” Jamie stepped out.

  Hell. Beck didn’t think of himself as a violent man, but he could have happily punched his cousin for interrupting. He’d just been getting somewhere or, at least, close enough to touch more than her hair.

  But now? Now she’d turned all her attention to his cousin, hugging him hello and jabbering about how much she’d missed him. Though Beck did appreciate the view of her dress riding up in the back, showing off her sleek legs.

  The two spoke for a minute while Beck waited. He wasn’t finished with Poppy yet, despite the sharp little frowns she kept shooting his way. They didn’t bother him in the slightest. He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. He had nowhere else to be.

  When Jamie finally excused himself to return to the party, Poppy shot Beck an irritated glare.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You’re a pain in the butt.” Then she stomped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a hard click.

  Beck continued leaning. He could wait all night.

  * * *

  POPPY STOOD OVER the sink, letting the cool water run over her hands, wondering how long before Beck got bored and wandered away. Why was he following her? Did he have nothing better to do?

  And what right did he have to interrupt her attempt to have a private conver
sation with Jamie? She was trying to ensure Jamie wasn’t making a mistake, but she couldn’t talk about anything with Beck hovering.

  She pressed her wet hands to the back of her neck. She hadn’t thought about Beck in a long time. She’d heard the occasional update from Jamie when they’d been younger, but she never asked for them and eventually he stopped telling her. She knew Beck ran the family company, a string of hotels in the Pacific Northwest, but other than that, his life was a mystery. Fine with her.

  Whatever he wanted, she wasn’t interested.

  She dried her hands, feeling calmer already. She would be fine. She’d go back out to the party, hunt Jamie down and, when she got a moment, ask if they might get together for coffee or lunch tomorrow.

  She’d have to find a way not to include Emmy. Of course, her whole plan would fall apart if she couldn’t shake Beck. Her hackles rose again and she forced herself to breathe out slowly. No, she’d sliced Beck out of her life more than a decade ago. Simply seeing him here looking all sexy and hungry wasn’t enough to take her back to those days.

  She checked her reflection in the mirror, made herself smile, adjusted her dress and unlocked the door. Her smile fell away instantaneously.

  “Seriously?” She couldn’t believe Beck still stood there. Surely the man had something to do besides wait for her? “What do you want?” she asked again.

  “Anything you like.” His gaze lowered. Rude man, looking at her faux boobs.

  She realized she was letting him and started to move. She would not spend the little time she had hanging around a dim hallway with Beck. She had a friend to save.

  He walked with her. “I should have called you. You’re right.”

  She sent him her best withering stare and sniffed loudly. She didn’t want his explanations. She wanted him to leave her alone.

  “I’m sorry. I was young and stupid.”

  “You were an idiot.”

  “That, too.” He smiled and she felt it all the way to her toes.

  She frowned. A bone-melting smile and an apology a decade overdue weren’t enough to earn her forgiveness. No, that would take some begging. “Fine, you’ve apologized. Now go find someone else to annoy.”