Jennifer McKenzie - Not Another Wedding

Yeah, yeah…happily ever after. Whatever.

Sure, Poppy Sullivan believes in love…but love at first sight? Not likely. That’s why she’s determined to stop her good friend from marrying the wrong woman. So she sets to work immediately and walks right into the very impressive chest of Beck Lefebvre. Not a good omen, considering how things ended up the last time he was in town.

She isn’t surprised to see Beck at his cousin’s wedding, but she’s appalled at his assumption that he deserves a second chance. She’s equally appalled at her inclination to give it to him. No way is she falling for his charm again! Although her vow to resist him may be too late…

“It’s good to see you.”

When Poppy 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. Or worse, to act like they were long-lost friends having a reunion.

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 walked away.

Dear Reader,

I’ve always loved the idea of old flames reconnecting. There’s something so compelling about people who go their separate ways but somehow find themselves back together. And is there a more romantic setting for them to be reunited than at a wedding?

Picture then, two people catching a glimpse of each other across a crowded room and everything else going quiet as they fall back into each other’s arms with nothing to stand in their way. Now scratch it. Because reality? Never that simple.

Poppy Sullivan is not happy to see her old beau, even if he seems to think she should be. But she needs his help, and the more time she spends with Beck Lefebvre, the more she realizes she might need him, too.

Not Another Wedding was a blast to write. And if you’re wondering what music I played and who I imagined in the roles of the characters while writing, visit my website, www.jennifermckenzie.com.

Happy reading,

Jennifer McKenzie

Not Another Wedding

Jennifer McKenzie

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jennifer McKenzie lives in Vancouver, Canada, where she enjoys being able to ski and surf in the same day—not that she ever does either of those things. After years of working as a communications professional and spending her days writing for everyone else, she traded in the world of watercoolers, cubicles and high heels to write for herself and wear pajamas all day. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, eating chocolate, trying to talk herself into working off said chocolate on the treadmill or spending time with her husband.

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For my parents, Ron and Colleen, who have been married many long and happy years. May we all be so lucky.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Epilogue

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

POPPY SULLIVAN STILL couldn’t believe Jamie, one of her oldest and dearest friends, was getting married in a week. She glanced at the pink-striped wedding invitation sitting on the passenger seat of her car and swallowed the concern souring on her tongue.

Mr. and Mrs. Clive Burnham

request the pleasure of your company

at the marriage of their daughter

Emmy Bianca

to

Mr. James Cartwright

son of Georgia Cartwright

on Saturday 29th June

at five o’clock

Goldfinch Estate Winery

Naramata, BC

The information had been emblazoned on her brain for six weeks. From the moment she’d received the invitation and the sparkling hearts inside the envelope had spilled across her beautiful walnut floors, clashing with her cream decor.

Poppy still hadn’t found them all. One had been grinning at her, as much as an inanimate and juvenile cutout could grin, just this morning when she stumbled toward the kitchen for her first cup of coffee. She knew more lurked, hidden and waiting for the right breeze to waft in and blow them out. She wasn’t about to let them haunt her. Just as she wasn’t about to let a mistake haunt Jamie for the rest of his life.

She pressed the gas pedal harder and watched her speed climb. She didn’t get to drive often in Vancouver, living close enough to her office to walk, so she enjoyed every opportunity she got to take her little blue convertible out. But today she didn’t appreciate it quite so much. Wind funneled through the open window, making her russet hair pop and snap like an angry bonfire.

Jamie and his fiancée, Emmy, had only known each other two months. Hardly long enough to make parental introductions, and who in their right mind decided to get married after eight weeks? It was ludicrous. And Poppy should know. She’d only dated her last boyfriend for a month before they decided to move in together. And look how that turned out.

Not that Poppy’d been able to talk to Jamie about her concerns over his rushing into marriage. No, because whenever she called Jamie, Emmy was with him whispering in the background or giggling and telling Poppy how she couldn’t wait to meet in person. And Poppy refused to tell him through email. This was a serious matter and deserved a face-to-face conversation.

Her fingers tightened on the wheel. Time was officially running out. She had only eight days left to find a way to stop the madness.

* * *

IT TOOK HER longer than anticipated to get to Naramata, BC, the small town where she’d grown up and her parents and older sister still called home. Poppy blamed the out-of-towners who flooded the community during the summer months, tripling the population between June and September. They clogged up the roads driving either too slow—fearful of the twisty, mountainous route—or too fast, flying into the curves indifferent to the oncoming traffic and thousand-foot drop-offs.

She’d left Vancouver before noon, refraining from stopping by the offices of her event planning business and limiting herself to checking email only. But by the time she pulled into her parents’ driveway, she had less than an hour before they were due at a welcome barbecue being held at Jamie’s boutique winery. All wedding guests had been invited, which was pretty much everyone who had ever called Naramata home.