Not Another Wedding. Jennifer McKenzie

tried not to jump to conclusions. “So you don’t work?”

      “No, not right now.” Emmy leaned into her soon-to-be husband.

      “And before you met Jamie?” Maybe she was a freelancer and her most recent contract had ended and she’d decided not to take another one until the wedding was over. But Poppy didn’t think so.

      “Nothing as exciting as you. It must be wonderful to spend your days party planning.”

      Check and mate. She’d neatly avoided the question while turning the conversation back to Poppy. But Poppy had a little chess action on her side, too. “It is fun. You’re lucky to be able to fully focus on your wedding.” She let that hang in the air for a moment. “So once it’s over, will you help Jamie with the winery?”

      Emmy glanced up at Jamie. “I’m not sure.”

      “We haven’t talked about that,” Jamie interjected, laying his hand over his fiancée’s. “But she’s welcome to join me if she’d like.”

      The two of them proceeded to make goo-goo eyes at each other that left Poppy nauseated and the rest of the room cooing. Except for Beck, who sat across from her, watching. Why must he always watch her?

      She fanned her face, grateful when Victoria called them into the dining room.

      “Get the answer you wanted, Red?” Beck whispered in her ear as they walked.

      She swatted his mouth away. Couldn’t he see she was trying to work here? She didn’t need him whispering sweet nothings or anything at all in her direction. “Not exactly.”

      She sat across from Beck at the long table, which easily sat their group of ten. Harrison was on her left at the foot of the table and Jamie was on her right. Poppy tried not to get excited. Asking him about his fiancée’s financial status wasn’t exactly polite conversation, but at least she’d get to talk to him,

      Poppy unfolded the crisp white napkin and placed it in her lap. The silver place settings gleamed and the glassware sparkled. An elegant mix of red and pink roses decorated the center of the table. She was impressed by the balance. The red and pink were harmonious instead of conflicting.

      The spread of food was incredible and Poppy helped herself to a little bit of everything. Platters of fresh-baked pastries that would have fit into any French patisserie. Plus, individual onion tarts, quiches, French toast with fresh berries and rashers of bacon.

      Her excitement over the seating was short-lived. Although she attempted to engage Jamie in conversation, the table wouldn’t allow it.

      “Poppy,” said Harrison Lefebvre. “So how do you know Beck?”

      Clearly, dear old Dad wasn’t in on the tangle of relationships at the table. “We met at the barbecue,” she said.

      “Remet,” Beck said as his eyes bored into her. “That wasn’t the first time, remember?”

      “I remember,” she said. Didn’t he know she’d prefer not to, though? “But we hadn’t seen each other for years. I’m amazed Beck even remembered who I was.”

      “There are some things you don’t forget.” Their gazes caught. Poppy had to force herself to blink.

      “Good, good.” Harrison did not pick up on the sparks flying between them. “Always nice to have another attractive woman around.”

      His eyes slid down the table to his ex-wife, and Poppy was pretty sure Victoria blushed, though it might have just been a trick of the light. Funny, she’d thought Beck’s parents were divorced. She glanced at him, but he was studying his lap, frowning.

      “Why did you lose touch?” Harrison’s question opened up all those old abandonment wounds.

      She glanced at Beck, but he didn’t look up. So he had never called and disappeared without a word. It was a long time ago and unimportant. “Well, we were teenagers,” she told Harrison with a smile. “And we didn’t know each other that well.”

      “Not that well?” From Jamie followed by a chuckle.

      Seriously? Now he wanted to jump into a discussion with her? “It was only one summer,” she told them. All of them.

      “Beck and Poppy used to—”

      “Jamie, would you mind passing me the sugar?” Victoria said before Jamie finished his thought.

      Poppy sent her a grateful look, which Victoria received with a slight nod. Poppy decided she liked Victoria. A lot.

      “I’d like to hear more about your work, Poppy. Do you own your own business?”

      “I do.” Poppy gave a short recap of how she and her best friend and business partner, Wynn, had started the company when they were struggling to find good jobs out of university and how a few years ago they’d been able to focus on it full-time.

      “Do you plan many weddings?” Victoria asked.

      Poppy noticed Beck’s frown deepen. What was that about? “No,” she answered Victoria. “I’ve done them in the past, but I generally run corporate events.”

      Victoria finished stirring the sugar into her coffee and took a sip. “I see. You should speak to Beck about working for the family company. The last holiday party was a disaster.”

      “How would you know?” Beck asked. His voice matched his face. Tight and tense.

      “I was there,” she said.

      Surprise flashed across Beck’s face, and Poppy wondered why he hadn’t been aware of his mother’s attendance. Were they that distant from one another? “That’s a lovely thought,” Poppy thanked Victoria, wanting to dispel the sudden tension emanating from Beck. “But I don’t work outside Vancouver.”

      “The company is expanding,” Victoria said. She glanced at her son. “Didn’t you mention you’re buying a hotel in Vancouver?”

      “The deal isn’t finalized,” Beck said. He turned to stare at Poppy and she felt that spark reignite. She didn’t like that spark. “But perhaps we could discuss things once it is?”

      Too much of an entrepreneur to let the moment slip away even if it had been forced by Beck’s mother, Poppy smiled. “I’d like that.”

      He smiled back at her, which had the spark threatening to turn into a flame. She watched while he peeled an orange and slid a section between his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. She wondered if the heat cresting from her thighs to her face was a normal response.

      When he pushed the tip of the orange outside his lips and then sucked it back in so smoothly that no one else saw, she decided the heat was completely normal for any red-blooded woman. But chose not to look at him again just in case.

      * * *

      BY THE TIME the brunch wound down, Poppy still hadn’t spoken more than a few words to Jamie and those had been about her and Beck.

      She’d already resigned herself to going back to her parents’ place without having any private time with Jamie, when he announced he wanted to go down to the lake. And Emmy didn’t. Anticipation bubbled.

      Poppy hurriedly placed the dishes on the counter. She’d offered to help wash the china and glassware that were too delicate for the dishwasher, but Victoria had declined. Now Poppy was glad.

      She raised an eyebrow at Beck as she flew past him and out the door where Jamie had exited.

      Jamie was halfway across the deck when Poppy realized she’d better step on it or risk being left behind with Beck. Beck and the perverted things he did to poor, innocent pieces of fruit. She reminded herself she did not want him to do those things to her. Ever again.

      The sun was at its peak, throwing hot rays on everything in sight. Heat rose through her shoes as she hustled across the pool tiles after Jamie. He was really moving.

      “Jamie,”