“They’re not all bimbos.” Just some of them—and those ones he didn’t take out more than once. Beck wasn’t looking to make a deep and personal connection with the women he dated, but he needed them to talk about more than fashion and the latest celebrity gossip.
“Poppy’s not like that.”
“No? What is she like?” He’d lost touch with her, but Jamie hadn’t.
“She’s amazing. She’d do anything for someone she loved. She deserves that in return.”
Beck was a little offended. Hard not to be when Jamie clearly didn’t think he was up to the task. Not that he wanted the task, but he could manage. “I’m not going to hurt her, Jamie.”
“You have before.”
It was a slap, but one he’d earned. “I was young and stupid.” And messed up by his parents’ relationship. “I’m not going to do anything, Jamie.”
Jamie tilted his head. “I’ve been friends with her a long time, Beck. I don’t remember not having her in my life...” He trailed off and shrugged.
“I like her, okay?” And yes, he hoped they could spend this weekend learning about each other again, but he wasn’t going to admit it under the gaze of the Golden Boy. Jamie could be as bad as his mother and Beck didn’t need two people asking about his future plans. He didn’t do future, and he was okay with that.
Jamie watched him steadily.
Beck decided it was time to change topics. “She mentioned you two haven’t seen much of each other lately. She was worried you’d be too busy this week with wedding stuff. That’s why I invited her to brunch.”
Not entirely true, as it also provided the benefit of getting Grace off his mother’s radar. Beck didn’t stop to wonder why it didn’t bother him to have Poppy on that same radar.
“Weird.” Seemingly satisfied he’d gotten whatever response he’d been looking for, Jamie decided they both needed coffee. He pulled down a pair of cups and filled them, grabbed the cream out of the fridge and a sugar bowl from the cupboard. Beck hadn’t even known he had a sugar bowl. “Why wouldn’t she call me?”
“Maybe she didn’t want to add any stress to the week?” Beck poured a dollop of cream into his cup, watching the white liquid bloom to the top.
Jamie added sugar and stirred, then took the cream from Beck. “Probably. I should call her. It’s been so busy with the wedding.” He stirred his coffee again. “Let me ask you something.”
As long as it wasn’t about his intentions, Beck was all for it. “Go.”
“Do you think Poppy dislikes Emmy?”
Beck put his coffee down without taking a sip. “What gives you that idea?” he asked carefully.
“I’m not sure.” Jamie tapped a finger against the side of his cup. “Just a feeling. You wouldn’t know what I mean, since you and Poppy aren’t close.”
Beck took a slug of coffee to ease the sudden tightening in his stomach.
“But she’s usually pretty open. She seemed a bit distant this morning.”
“There were a lot of people at the house, Jamie.” The coffee sloshed in his stomach. “I’m sure it was nothing.”
“Maybe.” But Jamie didn’t sound convinced.
“If it’s bothering you, why don’t you try getting them to spend some time together.” Beck thought of Poppy’s concerns and realized he had a perfect way to solve them and earn some points, too. “Why don’t you have Emmy invite her to the bachelorette party.”
Jamie’s face brightened. “You think?”
“Oh, yeah.” Beck warmed up to the idea.
The bachelor and bachelorette parties were happening on the same night at different locations. The boys were going out for a round of golf and dinner, while the girls were heading to a spa for mani-pedis. But there was talk of turning it into a Jack-and-Jill party later. Beck would be a lot more interested in the idea if Poppy would be there.
“It’d be a chance for them to bond.”
And a chance for him to figure out how to convince Poppy to take their dating ruse to the next level.
CHAPTER TEN
POPPY SELECTED A pair of bubblegum-pink jean capris, a black-and-white-chevron top, a fitted black blazer and the same nude heels she’d worn to brunch the other day to complete her outfit for Emmy’s Wednesday night bachelorette party. She’d been informed by Grace that since Emmy’s favorite color was pink, all attendees were expected to show appreciation for her by wearing something in the girlie shade.
No word on whether or not Grace was going to befriend her on Facebook. Poppy wasn’t sure it mattered. If Grace had been the type to let it all hang out online, they would have discovered more than one tightly managed Facebook profile bearing her name.
Poppy was stuffing money and her ID into a black leather tote when she heard a car turn onto her street. She peeked out her bedroom window as a white stretch limo parked in the driveway.
She put an extra couple bills into her bag and hurried down the stairs. They were going to Penticton, a slightly larger small town only fifteen minutes away, for the mani-pedis and dinner.
Beck had also mentioned something about the two groups meeting up at the end of the night. Poppy hoped so, but if not, Wynn would be in attendance at Jamie’s party and could get some intel.
She stepped outside into the sunshine. It was hot after the air-conditioned splendor of the house and she hurried to the car, which was full of pretty women in various shades of pink, from the lightest blush to the darkest magenta.
Emmy fell somewhere in the middle in a sparkly rose-colored dress made out of actual sequins. They scratched Poppy’s cheek when Emmy leaned over to give her a hug. “I’m so happy you could come.”
“Thanks for inviting me.” She settled into one of the plush seats.
“Everyone,” Emmy said as the limo started moving. “This is Poppy. One of Jamie’s best friends.” She was greeted with a chorus of friendly hellos and questions. Everyone wanted to know more about Jamie and figured Poppy was the one to ask
Poppy regaled them with the time Jamie had cut her hair in grade one because she’d accidentally gotten glue in it and had been afraid she would get in trouble. They’d both gotten a lecture about owning up to your mistakes instead of trying to hide them. Then there was the time in high school when he’d lost a single shoe at a party—turned out someone had stolen it, but only the one—and Jamie’d had to hop home. And she also shared that they’d attended prom together.
“Did you date?” Grace asked.
“No, no,” Poppy assured them, sending Emmy a worried glance. That was all she needed. For Emmy to think she wanted her man. “We were always just friends. I was actually getting over a broken heart and wanted to stay home, but Jamie insisted.”
All the women aahed, led by Emmy. “That is so like him,” she said and reached out to give Poppy a one-armed hug. Poppy eyed her silently, thinking she made it awfully hard to dislike her.
As the limo rocked down the curving roads leading out of the valley and into town, someone opened a bottle of champagne. The bar was also stocked with sparkling water and, in honor of the bride, pink lemonade. Poppy had a glass of the latter, appreciating the sweet tartness. The princess pop playing through the speakers she didn’t appreciate quite as much.
Although she was unable to ask Emmy or Grace any questions about themselves, Poppy enjoyed the trip. And she enjoyed the spa treatments even more.
Emmy had booked the entire spa for the party, so they had the place to themselves. She’d provided nibbles for snacking and trays of drinks. Cosmos for those who wanted to indulge and an alcohol-free concoction served in a martini glass rimmed with, of course, pink sugar that tasted like fresh strawberries and chocolate. Poppy drank two while a cheerful woman buffed her toes and painted them an attractive shade of crimson, which, sticking with the theme of the party, was a kind
of pink.
She would do well to remind herself it was Jamie’s money and Jamie’s hard work paying for the day, but Poppy had to admit the party wasn’t particularly extravagant. She knew the associated costs of doing something similar and this was a lot less than what most brides shelled out to celebrate their last few days of singledom.
They had dinner at one of the local wineries where each course was paired with a specific wine. And on the way back to Naramata and their final stop on the bachelorette-party wagon, Poppy finally managed to snag the seat beside Emmy.
She hadn’t gotten an opportunity to talk to Emmy during the spa treatments or dinner, but thought maybe now would be her chance. She hoped she hadn’t been too obvious, practically elbowing one of the other women out of the way, but time was drawing near and Poppy wasn’t about to let another opportunity slip away.
She waited until they were on their way, as the other women showed off their newly painted fingers and toes, before broaching the subject. “You know, I don’t think I heard how you and Jamie met.”
Poppy figured if she eased into the conversation, chatted about unimportant details, letting Emmy think they were becoming friends, she’d be more likely to let something slip. Poppy didn’t know what, but she was sure she would when she heard it.
Emmy smiled and blushed prettily. “Oh, it’s nothing exciting. I came up with some girlfriends for a long weekend in April and we stopped in at his winery.”
“And it was love at first sight?” Poppy wanted to believe Emmy’s story sounded like a convenient cover excuse for the real version in which Emmy had researched and targeted Jamie, and the drop-in at the winery had been a planned approach. But Poppy didn’t entirely buy that. Love at first sight happened. She only had to look at her own family for two examples.
“I’m not sure if it was love. But there was something about him.” Emmy laughed. “He asked me to dinner and I accepted. When I went back to the city at the end of the weekend, we kept in touch.”
Nothing shady about that. In fact, it was sort of sweet.
“He came down that next weekend and stayed with me.” Emmy’s whole face lit up at the memory. “By Sunday, we both knew we had something real and we wanted to be together. I was pretty surprised when he came back later that night. He had the ring.” She spun the rock around her finger. “I said yes.”
Okay, it wasn’t sort of sweet. It was saccharinely, treacly sweet. And it sounded as if it was all Jamie’s doing.
“Were you surprised?” Poppy asked.
“Shocked. I didn’t expect it at all. But I didn’t have to think about it.” She laid a hand on Poppy’s arm. “I don’t want you to think I have any concerns about marrying Jamie. As soon as he got down on one knee I knew what I wanted.”
“To get married.”
“No, to be with Jamie. I don’t really care about the wedding and all this. That’s my mother’s doing. I just want to be with Jamie.”
Well, this wasn’t going the way Poppy had planned at all. Was it possible Emmy and Jamie were a love match? That they were moving quickly only because they couldn’t stand the idea of not being together?
“I was nervous to meet you,” Emmy admitted.
“Were you?”
“Yes. Jamie’s told me so much about you. How close you are.”
Not that close, considering Poppy hadn’t known how serious things had gotten with Emmy until the wedding invitation arrived.
“You’ve known Jamie since you were kids. You’re important to him. I was afraid you might not like me and might not want Jamie to marry me.”
A dull flush warmed Poppy’s ears. “Oh, no. I’m just happy to be included in your big day.” It was a lie, but Poppy was starting to wonder if it should be the truth. Was she creating something out of nothing?
“Me, too.” Emmy smiled. “And I don’t want you to worry. I’m going to take good care of Jamie. We have a deal.” She leaned over to giggle in Poppy’s ear. “He’s going to make the money and I’m going to spend it.”
* * *
BECK SMILED WHEN he spotted Emmy’s bachelorette party troop into the Sundowner Bar & Grille at nine o’clock. The boys had been here for an hour, having finished up their golf game early and not wanting to linger over dinner. Most of them stood around in small groups, gold glinting on their ring fingers as they sipped their beer and talked about sports. Poor suckers.
Jamie seemed to be having a good time. Beck and Wynn had convinced him to take a shot of tequila as a final goodbye to bachelorhood and Jamie had taken it from there.
At last count, he’d downed three, which wasn’t much for a tall, healthy male. But apparently, Jamie didn’t do much besides taste test his own wine these days. He currently sat on one of the cheap wooden bar stools with a hand on Wynn’s shoulder for balance. Probably saying how much he loved him, man.
It was good for him, Beck decided. Jamie didn’t cut loose enough, and if a man couldn’t cut loose at his bachelor party, then when? Still, he’d already signaled to the bartender to stop serving him. There was cutting loose and then there was making an ass of yourself. Beck would make sure Jamie didn’t do the latter.
He watched Poppy as she separated from the group. She looked good enough to eat in a pair of tight pants, her red hair swinging and snapping as she moved.
He headed toward her, making sure to stay out of her sight so he could pop up behind her before she tried one of her avoidance maneuvers. The bar was noisy—shouts of laughter, the clink of glasses as patrons toasted each other and the tinny country music that played through the speakers. Beck had to raise his voice to be heard.
“Miss me, Red?”
She whirled and frowned at him. “I’d tell you not to call me that, but clearly it isn’t sinking into your Neanderthal skull.”
He grinned and lifted a hand to her hair, running his fingers through the fiery strands. “You could try.”
“I don’t believe in wasting my breath.”
“And yet you’ve been standing here chatting about everything but my question. Did you miss me?”
Heat flared in her eyes before she dropped her gaze and stepped back. “No.”
“No?” He stepped with her. “Now, why don’t I believe you? Maybe because you’ve been avoiding me.”
He hadn’t seen her since the brunch on Sunday. He’d called to tell her about the invite for the bachelorette party coming her way and asked if she wanted to get together, but she’d told him she was busy. He didn’t know if that was true or if she needed some space after that kiss. He figured if that was the case, she’d had enough by now.
He’d certainly had enough.
He thought about her a lot. And not just at night. No, he found himself thinking about her during the day, too. Every time he glanced at the lake, he remembered the summer with Poppy.
He, Poppy and Jamie, and a big group of their friends had taken over a section of the main beach every day. It had been fun. The group had accepted Beck as one of their own and he’d soon come to think of them as his friends, too. He’d let his communication with them slide as well when he left. Yet another thing to blame his mother for.
His mother, who had taken to visiting him at the guesthouse on a daily basis. Every morning, as soon as he’d finished his first cup of coffee, she’d come waltzing in for one reason or another. Once to make sure he had everything he needed, another time to invite him to breakfast. Today had been to make sure he had things ready for Jamie’s bachelor party.
Poppy frowned and a line appeared between her brows. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”
“You have.” He rubbed his thumb over the line, enjoying the feel of her silky skin and the sharp little exhalation she couldn’t quite hide. “You didn’t call.”
“Neither did you,” she pointed out and brushed his hand away.
He captured hers and linked their fingers together. “I called once. I missed you.”
“What are you doing?”
“We’re dating, remember?”
“Just for your family.”
“And my family is here.” He stroked her cheek, letting his finger lie there a moment. Skin on skin. He noticed she didn’t brush his hand away. Maybe they would get to more than kissing before the week was over.
“I should go say hello to Jamie.”
Beck gripped her hand a shade tighter. “He’s busy.”
She tried to peer over his shoulder, shot him a look when he shifted to prevent it. “Are you blocking me?”
He pasted on a hurt expression and put a hand to his heart. “Would I do that?”
The edges of her mouth curved. “Yes.”
“Guilty.” He leaned in. “And I didn’t get my hello kiss. My family is probably watching.” He doubted Jamie could see more than a foot in front of him, but Poppy didn’t know that.
Their eyes met again, held.
Beck felt the deep, slow thump of his pulse. He suddenly wanted to carry her out of the bar to a private spot and stare into her eyes as he slipped inside her. “I should tell you I’m a champion at staring contests.”
Another smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Are you?”
“Best in the world. I could watch you like this all night.”
Color bloomed in her cheeks and she blinked.
He smirked. “I win.”
She laughed. “Fine, you win. What do you want?”
“You.”
She swallowed, the muscles in her neck moving up and down. “Well, that’s bold.”
They were so close his lips were almost brushing her ear. Again, she didn’t brush him off. “I am bold.” Her skin looked so creamy and soft. He wanted to dart out his tongue for a taste, but refrained, knowing the tease could be as delicious as the fulfillment.
Her hand flexed beneath his like a trapped bird fluttering its wings. He closed his fingers around her more closely. He liked having her here. With him. She wasn’t getting away that easily.
Not Another Wedding Page 10
