Jennifer McKenzie - Not Another Wedding

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.