He raised an eyebrow at her. “Are we not?”
“Are we?” She smashed down the bird of hope that tried to fly through her chest. Beck was an attractive and powerful man. He had plenty of women walk through his life and had surely learned the ropes of what to say and do to get what he wanted. It didn’t mean anything.
“What would you call it?” One half of his mouth flickered up as though he was too lazy to put the effort in to lift the whole thing. Too bad it had the added effect of making her knees wobbly.
She locked them and closed the fridge with a snap. “I have no idea. This isn’t something I do all the time.” In fact, never. She only brought home men she thought were going to be in her life for a while. She lifted her chin.
He met her challenge with another half smile. “Me neither.”
That took her legs out from under her, or would have, had she not locked her knees. Still, she braced a hand on the fridge for good measure. “So what is this?”
He covered the distance between them in three long strides and backed her into the fridge. Cold metal pressed against her legs, the hum of the motor buzzed over her skin. He leaned forward, creating a protective barrier between her and the world. “What do you want it to be?”
Her mouth dried out, all the liquid in her body pooling in her core. His eyes were dark and fathomless. She could dive into them and sink below the surface forever if she wasn’t careful. “I asked you first.”
He brushed her hair off her shoulder, sending a beat of longing through her blood. She should sidestep him, slip out of this almost embrace and switch topics to something safer, like whether or not he’d like some coffee. But she didn’t.
“I want you to come home with me,” he said, lowering his head to lick a soft line up the side of her neck.
She bit back her disappointment. Sex. Of course, that’s what he wanted. And she hadn’t given him any reason to think there was anything more to it. She’d pretty much thrown herself into his bed last night. Had she really thought anything would be different today?
Yes, she had. She felt silly admitting it, but the way he’d looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, the fact that he’d wanted to spend time with her family, and how he’d insisted on acting like a boyfriend around them made her think this was more than sex.
“Not tonight,” she told him, putting a hand on his chest and trying not to notice the delicious sensation of his muscles bunching beneath her palm. “I feel like I’ve barely seen my family.”
She wouldn’t act like a softhearted lovesick teenager again. She’d spent her entire senior year mourning the loss of what she’d thought they’d had. Now she was a grown woman of twenty-eight. She’d dated. She’d had two serious relationships.
“Can I stay here then?” There was a longing in his gaze that surprised her. “I don’t want to leave yet.”
It struck something in her and she moved her hand to rest on his arm. “Really?” Her heart flopped.
“Yes.” He leaned over and touched the tip of his tongue beneath her ear and made her all melty. “We could do it in your childhood bedroom. Kinky.”
She angled her head away with a laugh to cover her disappointment. He wanted sex. Not a lifetime together. Just sex. “No. Not happening.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Let me convince you.” He ran a hand up her arm and along her shoulder. “We’ll be quiet. No one will hear us.”
“No.” She was only a little tempted.
He kissed her once. “All right.” Then again. “I wouldn’t want to get on your family’s bad side.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” she whispered back, her heart swelling once more. He didn’t want to upset her family. He liked them. That had to mean something, right? She forgot they were supposed to be cleaning up, forgot her family was only a couple rooms over and could hear everything if they really wanted to listen.
“Your dad even brought out the wine.”
“He did.” One of his own private reserve bottles. “They like you.”
“Good. I like them, too.”
Her heart sparked even as she told herself it didn’t matter if he liked her family. There was nothing serious going on between them.
He lowered his head to whisper, his breath whooshing across her sensitive skin. “My family should take a few pointers.”
She flattened her palm against his chest. It was dangerous, but she’d been wading in dangerous waters from the moment she’d recognized Beck at the welcome barbecue and hadn’t told him to never speak to her again. “What do you mean?”
“Your family is great.” His tongue doodled rings around her ear now. She found it difficult to stand. “Not like my family at all.”
“Your family seems very nice.” Her hand slid up his chest to curl around the nape of his neck. It had a mind of its own. Bad hand.
He pushed closer, nestling a thigh between hers. “I don’t see much of them.” His words rumbled against her neck. “After my parents’ second divorce, I figured it was easier not to get involved.”
There was no self-pity in his tone, not a single call for sympathy, which made it one of the saddest things Poppy had ever heard. Her heart broke for him. “That would have been a difficult choice.”
“It didn’t seem like it at the time.” He sighed. “But yeah. I think it was.”
“Do you miss them?” Their foreheads were pressed together. He closed his eyes and for a moment Poppy worried she’d pushed him too far.
He nodded. “Sometimes.”
She wanted to curl over him, protect him from the world even though he probably wouldn’t appreciate it. She already knew he was one of those manly men who popped a broken finger back into alignment without making a face. “Have you tried reaching out to them?” she suggested, stroking the back of his neck.
“No.” He opened his eyes and pressed a kiss to one cheek, the other, then her mouth. “I’m not sure there’s a point.”
“Of course there’s a point....” It was hard for her to focus when he teased her like that. “If you want things to be different, you have to change.”
“What if they don’t change? What if it only lasts a month?” He feathered light kisses across her lips, eating his way to her ear. She shivered.
“Then you tried.” She clutched at him, wanting him closer. His hair was so soft. She ran both hands through it. Very bad hands.
He ran his tongue along her shoulder. “I’ll think about it.” He put his arms around her and yanked her against him. “Come home with me.”
“Beck.” He held her so tightly, she couldn’t draw a full breath. “I should stay here.” And she should probably take a step away from him before her mother walked in and found them in this compromising position. But she didn’t.
“You should come.” He cupped the back of her head and kissed her until she forgot what she was going to say.
She wanted to go with him. She so badly wanted to. She’d already slept with him and introduced him to her family, but part of her shied away. He didn’t have all of her—not yet. But it was close. “Tomorrow,” she told him.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Her throat got dry, very dry. They were on treacherous ground. “Why not?”
He shrugged, but she recognized the concern in his eyes. “I’m not ready to be around them yet. My family.” She stroked his face but didn’t say anything. “I need you.”
Her heart quivered. She remembered what he’d told her about coming home and finding his parents fighting. She was unable to imagine what that must have been like, to have his whole life turned upside down in one night. No wonder he’d avoided all personal entanglements with people.
“I wouldn’t normally ask.” He leaned his che
ek into her palm. “But I’m asking, please come home with me.”
But he was changing. And he wasn’t avoiding her. Beck might put on this big-bad-male disguise, but underneath he was searching for love. Like they all were.
The guard around her heart faltered. “Poppy?” And then shattered under his worried expression. He needed her. He needed this.
“Yes, I’ll go home with you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BECK STAYED IN bed watching Poppy dress. He’d already tried to convince her to stay. Multiple times.
“I’m sure Jamie would be happy to pick up the dresses for you.” He tried again, snaking out an arm to loop around her waist. He wasn’t ready to let her go. The wedding was tomorrow and she was leaving the day after that. Spending today with other people wasn’t part of his plan.
He tugged and she landed on the bed beside him, which was exactly where he wanted her. The morning sun slanted through the windows and blanketed the bed. The bed where they’d spent a good chunk of last night doing everything but sleeping. And it had been good, very good. But the lying together and talking had been wonderful, too.
It was comfortable with her. She made him feel as if he could be himself and didn’t have to rise to anyone’s expectations. She got that from her family, who had the knack of making a person feel entirely welcome without effort. He bet it served her well as a party planner.
“Beck.” She laughed and placed a hand against his chest. “I have to get them. Emmy is expecting me.”
“Jamie,” he reminded her, nuzzling the side of her neck the way she liked. As anticipated, she softened under the strategic assault and sighed. Beck slid a hand along the length of her body. She’d managed to get her pants on before he captured her, but the top still sat on the chair. It would take him less than thirty seconds to strip the pants off her.
But before he even got a finger on the button, she sat up, for real this time. “It can’t be Jamie,” she explained, adjusting her bra strap. He pulled it back down her arm. She pushed it up. “Emmy doesn’t want him to see the gown she chooses before the wedding. And she’ll need help getting in and out of them.”
“Won’t her mom and sister be there?” Beck asked, still looking for a way to get her to hang around. He liked having her here. Not just in his bed, though that was pretty spectacular, but being around her. She made him more relaxed, less tightly wound. He hadn’t even checked his email yet this morning. “Come on. They can handle it. Jamie can pick up the package without looking inside and the ladies can take it from there.”
She was tempted, he could tell by the way she stopped moving and sank back into his side. “I’ll bring you coffee in bed,” he said, and ran a finger over her shoulder, pushing down that lacy bra strap again.
She sighed, but it wasn’t the consenting kind he’d been banking on. “I can’t.” She eased the blow by kissing him before putting her bra strap back in place. “I’m needed.” She pushed herself off the bed, shooting him a sultry look over her shoulder. “Guess you should have thought of that before you roped me into helping.”
“If I’d only known.” But he wasn’t upset about it. It made Jamie happy and that was important to him. “How long will this take?” He leaned back against the headboard, enjoying the view as she bent over to dig out her shirt.
“I have no idea.” She stood up, something delicate and silky looking in her hands. She slipped it on, smoothing the fabric against her body. Beck’s fingers itched to do it for her. “Depends if Emmy likes any of the dresses and how many alterations will need to be done.” She smoothed her hair where his hands had mussed it.
“Later then. I’m taking you out.” Somewhere fancy where she might wear those high, high heels and show off those sleek legs.
“Is that a command?”
He smirked. “Depends if you like it.” She’d only taken one step from the bed, so he reached out and slid his hand up the inside of her thigh. “Let me take you out for dinner.”
“For food?”
“There’ll be food. Although—”
She put up a hand. “Don’t say it.”
“I’m insulted. Would I be so cliché?”
She eyed him, considering, then nodded. “Absolutely.”
He laughed, because he would have said it if he’d thought of it. “There will be food. Real food.” Plenty of wineries in the area had restaurants on their grounds. Many of them considered world class. He’d ask Jamie for any recommendations. “So, you in?”
She nodded and let him pull her back to bed for another kiss. Her body fit perfectly with his, molding and curving without effort so they blended into a single unit. It was a while before they separated.
Beck got up after Poppy left and once he’d showered, he fired up his laptop. The only thing of importance was a meeting scheduled for next Tuesday, during which he’d be signing the papers to make the purchase of the hotel in Vancouver official. Beck sent an email off to his project manager, instructing him to start lining up the construction team and other laborers.
As this was the first project they’d run outside the U.S., they couldn’t use their usual crews, but Beck was confident that wouldn’t be an issue. And he wanted to be ready to start the renovations as soon as possible. But he wasn’t merely concerned with hiring workers—there were permits to acquire, plans to approve and materials to choose.
Beck left most of the exploratory work up to his team but liked to have final say himself. They would narrow down the types of flooring and he would pick from them. It worked well. If he didn’t like the end result, it wasn’t because of someone else’s decision.
He finished with his email in under fifteen minutes, and while there were other things to do—look over budgets, projected sales and future projects—he turned off the computer instead. His mind wasn’t on work.
It was barely past ten. He wondered if Poppy was already at Jamie’s house. He guessed it was Jamie and Emmy’s house now since she’d been living there for a while. He should probably take a drive over there to check in on Jamie. His role as best man practically insisted on it.
And if Poppy should already be there and they had to say hello, that would just be a happy coincidence.
* * *
JAMIE WAS COMING out of the house when Beck pulled up. It was a long way from the road to the main house to keep the private residence separate from the business portion. Cars turning into the property went straight for about ten feet to the parking lot for the wine shop. Those heading for the house turned right and weaved through rows of grapes before following a winding driveway up the bluff.
Beck recognized his mother’s car and his aunt Georgia’s. There was a Cadillac that probably belonged to the Burnhams, but there was no sign of Poppy’s little blue convertible. Too bad. He liked watching her tool around in it. He’d made her drive in front of him last night when they’d left her parents’ place, afraid he’d drive off the road otherwise because he’d be checking her out in his rearview mirror the whole time.
“Beck.” Jamie waved and jogged over as Beck parked and turned off the engine. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought you might want some company.” He’d made up the excuse on his way over. “Poppy mentioned this was a ladies’ day.”
Jamie nodded, his blond hair shining in the morning sun. “They kicked me out.” From anyone else it might have sounded petulant, but Jamie made it sound pleasant, as if being kicked out was an aspiration to be held by all.
Beck thought about offering to go inside on his behalf, but Jamie had already climbed into the passenger seat.
He buckled himself in. “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.” Unless you counted the kind Poppy had put in his mind. “You hungry?”
“Yes.” Jamie explained he’d been out in the vineyard this morning, unable to sleep
and looking to burn off some energy. Though he’d had breakfast with Emmy, he had room for more.
Beck navigated the car back to the main road and went left according to Jamie’s direction. Although they didn’t talk about anything of a serious nature, Beck enjoyed the conversation. Sometimes it was satisfying to spend time with loved ones. Something he hadn’t done enough of the past ten years.
They arrived at a small diner that looked like the kind that served the greasy fare small towns were famous for. There was a Formica counter that ran along the front of the diner, old circular bar stools and booths covered in the same shiny, red vinyl. Even the waitstaff in bowling shirts and shorts fit the ideal diner, as did the sizzling kitchen, apparently manned by someone named “Mel.”
But the food, when it came, bore no resemblance to the oily mess Beck had been expecting. His eggs were light and fluffy and sprinkled with fresh herbs. The coffee was strong, hot and fresh, and the side of fruit was most definitely not from a can.
“Thanks for this,” Jamie said.
Beck looked up from a piece of pineapple he’d speared. “No problem.” And it wasn’t. This was nice for him, too. “I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet.”
“I didn’t mean breakfast. I mean, coming to the wedding and acting as best man. I know you weren’t crazy about doing it.”
Beck had thought he’d put on a better poker face than that. “I was glad to do it, Jamie.” It was true now, so it wasn’t a complete fabrication. “Family supports each other.”
That sounded dangerously close to something his mother would spout at him, so he didn’t elaborate. He didn’t think he’d need to. Jamie was a guy, he would get it.
Jamie nodded. “So how did you know I was getting the boot this morning? Your mom tell you?”
Beck swallowed. “Ah, no.” He could have let Jamie believe that, would have been easy, but it felt a little like they were regaining the footing in their relationship and Beck didn’t want to sully that.
Jamie grinned. “So how is my dearest and oldest friend?”
“She’s fine.” Better than fine. He grinned and forked up some eggs.
Not Another Wedding Page 17