Not Another Wedding

She’d just ordered a glass of wine when she noticed the tall, dark man watching her from across the patio. His eyes glittered with hunger and naked appreciation, and her breath caught. She didn’t recognize him. Poppy was friendly with almost everyone in town, but judging from the cut of his suit, he wasn’t from the area. Most residents of Naramata didn’t have occasions to wear designer clothes worth thousands of dollars.

She quashed the desire rising in her belly and turned away from the stranger. His black hair was a little too long anyway, the ends curling over his collar, and he had a beard. Though facial hair on men didn’t generally appeal to her, she thought it suited him. He looked like a Wall Street banker gone rogue—one who had been in a brawl or two, judging from the bend in his nose.

Even though Poppy wasn’t here to flirt, she risked another peek but wished she hadn’t when she discovered his eyes still on her. His lips twisted in a half smile, and her face grew hot. She glanced in the opposite direction, willing her cheeks to cool and reminding herself to focus on Jamie and her reason for being here.

Although who knew if she would ever get a chance to speak to him. The crowd around Jamie showed no signs of leaving and neither did Emmy. Poppy sighed. She wanted to do this as soon as possible, but if no one was going to cooperate...

“Poppy Sullivan.”

She turned. Of course, Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous had sidled over to her side of the patio. She ignored the ripple of interest cresting through her and put on her best politely disinterested face. “Excuse me?”

“It’s good to see you.” When she made no response, he lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t remember me?”

She opened her mouth to tell him of course she didn’t because she’d never seen him before in her life, when his smirk clued her in. While a man might add six inches to his height, put on thirty pounds of muscle and grow a beard, his mannerisms didn’t change.

Beck Lefebvre.

And just like that, her spark of attraction turned to anger. “No,” she lied, enjoying the surprise on his face.

Of course, she’d expected him to be here. He was Jamie’s cousin. It would have been weird if he didn’t show up. She just hadn’t thought he’d have the nerve to approach her. Worse, to act as if they were long-lost friends.

But he merely smiled in the face of her rudeness and stepped closer. “I’m disappointed, Red.”

Poppy bristled. Her hair was auburn with definite shades of brown, not red. She tossed it at him as she turned away. The crowd of well-wishers still surrounded Jamie.

Beck laughed, and her nerves clashed. He was laughing at her now? She sniffed. Clearly, he hadn’t developed any charm in the preceding decade. “And here I thought I’d made an impression.” His words whispered against her ear.

She jerked away from him. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” He smiled. “Nice night for a party.”

She shrugged, took a step back. He moved with her. Not touching, but close enough that the heat rolling off his body warmed her skin. Silently, they watched the scene playing before them.

Poppy focused on the details of the party instead of the man behind her. Occupational hazard. She couldn’t attend any event without thinking about how she would have done things differently, and taking notes of what she might use in future.

Emmy and Jamie had made smart choices, getting all the key points right. Plenty of light, good flow and loads of food and drink. The other bits were simply details adjusted to suit the client’s personal preference. Poppy wouldn’t have tossed tulle over everything or matched the table runners and flowers to Emmy’s shoes. Obviously, Emmy had chosen the colors with her outfit in mind and Poppy doubted any well-reasoned logic would have convinced her it wasn’t a wonderful idea.

Brides were notorious for being temperamental, insisting on one thing and then sobbing when they changed their minds, as though one minuscule detail meant the difference between a long, happy marriage and one filled with strife. Poppy had stopped planning weddings a couple of years ago for those exact reasons, choosing to focus on business events and functions. Less indecision and no one had ever cried all over her because the napkins at their holiday party were ruby instead of crimson.

“So?” Beck’s voice drew her attention, caused her to turn before she thought better of it. “Aren’t you going to ask how we know each other?”

Oh, he’d like that, wouldn’t he? Though she might not have seen him for years, she knew his type. He prided himself on being unforgettable to women. Well, it was time he learned a lesson.

“No.” But she couldn’t help noting how good he looked. Really good. Though she’d give up chocolate before admitting it.

She turned on her heel, intending to return to the party and find someone—anyone else—to talk to, but his hand caught her bare arm above her wrist. His fingers were warm. She shivered.

“I guess I’ve changed. You’re as gorgeous as ever, Red.” His blatant appraisal of her body should have pissed her off—she was not his to behold. But the attraction sizzling through her was impossible to deny.

Poppy shook the thought off. She did not want him looking at her. Not even a little. He’d lost that privilege years ago, and a bit of sexy banter and warm hands didn’t change anything.

“If you’ll excuse me.” She pulled her arm free and hurried away before he could stop her again. As Poppy made her way through the partygoers, she did her best to ignore the sudden knocking of her heart. But when she sneaked a glance back, Beck was still watching. He even had the audacity to raise his glass toward her as though to toast her running away.

Fabulous.

She got less than halfway across the yard before she found herself smushed into a very large, very pregnant tummy. “Finally. I’ve been looking for you forever.”

“Cami.” She leaned back to get a better look at her older sister, pleased by the hug as much as by the opportunity to shove Beck out of her mind.

Cami looked as she always did, except for her belly, which was nearing the nine-month mark. Her hair, the same color as Poppy’s, was cut in a short pixie style and her gray eyes sparkled. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me, too.” Poppy left her arm around her sister’s shoulders. It was a point of pride that she stood exactly one-eighth of an inch taller. “We don’t spend enough time together.”

They spoke often, sometimes daily, and emailed regularly, but living hundreds of miles apart and leading completely different lives could make staying close tricky. Like their mother, Cami had married her high school sweetheart, settled in her hometown and started a family. Though her mom and sister had never been anything but supportive, Poppy recognized they sometimes wondered why she’d chosen Vancouver to be her permanent home.

“Oh, stop. I’m going to get all sniffly. It’s the pregnancy hormones. They make me emotional.” Cami swiped at her eyes, beautiful even with her nose turning rosy. “When’s Wynn getting in?”

“Not until Monday.” Wynn had remained in Vancouver to manage an event for two hundred happening tomorrow night. Normally, Poppy would have stayed, too, but she and Wynn agreed the Jamie situation was an emergency and couldn’t be put off. Plus, he had the rest of their four-person team to help. “Have you heard about his new boyfriend?”

“What? No, I have not.” Cami clutched Poppy’s hands. “Are they serious?”

“I think so. He hasn’t introduced me yet.”

“Really? I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.” Wynn’s parents had died when he was a teenager and his only sibling, an older brother, worked in the Yukon as a blaster for a mining company. Since the brothers spoke rarely and saw each other less, Wynn had been pseudo-adopted into the Sullivan family. Poppy sometimes teased that he was the brother she never wanted. “We’ll have to grill him when he arrives.”

“Absolutely.” Wynn wouldn’t be able to resist Cami’s pleas for details. Not once she brought out the swollen-feet and aching-back cards.

“What about you?” Cami asked.

“What about me?”

“Any men in your life?”

“Not right now.” Beck flashed through her mind before she shut the thought down. She didn’t know why he’d even approached her. Had he honestly expected open arms and a friendly greeting after what he’d done? “But,” she said before Cami could start lecturing, “I’m going to work on that. Wynn thinks I should sign up for one of those dating services.”

“You should.” Cami was resolute. “It’s way past time you got back out there.”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

“It’s been more than a year since you and Evan split.”

“No.” Poppy paused and then sighed. “Okay, it’s been a while.” Ten months. Which was not a year. “I needed some time. But I’m ready now.”

And she would handle things her way, which according to her mother and sister was wrong. But they didn’t understand. They had lived the fantasy of marrying a first love with a white picket fence and kids. She was more practical. And as soon as this wedding was over, she was going to put her way into action and become a dating machine. Or, at least, a dating widget.

“Auntie Pop-pop.” Holly, Cami’s two-year-old daughter, interrupted with a bright giggle. She ran over and held up her arms for a kiss and hug, which Poppy was happy to oblige.

“Hi, Holly Hobbie.” She juggled her niece and the wine she still carried. “I like your shoes.”

Last time she and Cami had talked, her sister had mentioned Holly’s obsession with a pair of hard-soled Mary Janes. The constant tapping was driving her to the brink of insanity. According to Cami, Holly wouldn’t even take them off for bed. So Poppy had gone on a toddler-size shopping spree and sent up three pairs of sparkly shoes, all soft-soled, as well as two dresses, some striped leggings and a matching hat-and-scarf set for winter.

Holly proudly displayed the silver pair of shoes for Poppy to appreciate. Sparkly shoes might not be practical for an active toddler who spent more time digging in the dirt than playing dress-up, but Poppy hadn’t been able to resist. What was the point of being an aunt if she didn’t spoil her niece?

“Beautiful,” she told Holly. “They match mine.” She showed Holly her own glittery heels. Holly oohed and, when Poppy set her back down, petted them.

“You’re creating a monster,” Cami said as she smiled at her daughter.

“Probably, but she’ll be a nontapping monster. Doesn’t that count for something?” Poppy handed Cami her glass when Holly tugged on her dress and demanded to be lifted up for another hug. “Do you like the shoes?”

“Yes.” She wrapped her tiny arms around Poppy’s neck with surprising strength.

“I like them, too.” Cami inhaled the scent of the wine. “And I like this. I want some.”

“Soon.” Poppy untangled herself from Holly’s little monkey arms before they strangled her. “Only a few more weeks, right?”

“I hope not.” Cami sighed and pouted at the glass. “I feel like I’m about to explode.”

“Well, don’t explode here.” Poppy had a sudden vision of her sister’s water breaking all over her expensive gold shoes and having to hustle her off to the hospital.

“As if I would be so tacky.” Cami rubbed her swollen stomach. “Holly, don’t play with Auntie Poppy’s earrings.”

Poppy captured the toddler’s busy hands before she could get a good grasp and pull. “Where’s Mom?”

“She’s talking to the band.” Cami gestured at the foursome. Poppy didn’t spot her mother’s strikingly colored hair nearby, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t around. “She wants to hear ‘Old Time Rock and Roll.’”

Poppy snorted and glanced back at her sister. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Oh, it gets better.” Cami took another sniff of wine. “She’s already made Dad promise to dance with her.”

“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 interested.

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?”