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“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.
