Not Another Wedding. Jennifer McKenzie

      CHAPTER TWO

      POPPY SCANNED THE CROWD, taking note of the “happy couple” as she headed toward the bar. She wasn’t particularly thirsty but the bar offered the best vantage point to keep Jamie in view. She just needed to wait until the horde around him thinned, then she’d capture his attention and drag him away for a private moment.

      Having this conversation at a wedding event wouldn’t be her first choice, but Poppy didn’t see another alternative. Time was tight. Though, if Emmy and Jamie remained attached at the hip, the lip and every other body part, it wouldn’t matter if Poppy had a century at her disposal. Even now Emmy put her hand on the back of Jamie’s neck to pull him in for a kiss. The group around them clucked appreciatively. Poppy remained unmoved.

      She had no doubt Jamie thought this was true love. The man had the instincts of a puppy. Everyone and everything were wonderful and a new adventure to be experienced. And Poppy understood dating exclusively, even moving in together after only knowing each other a short time—been there, done that—but getting married was a completely different animal. If things ended badly, there would be settlements and splitting of assets, and Jamie was a wealthy man.

      Poppy didn’t assume Emmy was a gold digger, but Emmy wouldn’t be the first one to get a glimpse at Jamie’s handsome face and fat bank account and decide theirs was a love not to be denied. Seeing as he seemed incapable of taking care of himself, Poppy would do it for him. Friends kept an eye out for each other, and she and Jamie had been friends since kindergarten.

      She’d just ordered a glass of wine when she noticed the tall, dark man watching her from across the patio. His eyes glittered with hunger and naked appreciation, and her breath caught. She didn’t recognize him. Poppy was friendly with almost everyone in town, but judging from the cut of his suit, he wasn’t from the area. Most residents of Naramata didn’t have occasions to wear designer clothes worth thousands of dollars.

      She quashed the desire rising in her belly and turned away from the stranger. His black hair was a little too long anyway, the ends curling over his collar, and he had a beard. Though facial hair on men didn’t generally appeal to her, she thought it suited him. He looked like a Wall Street banker gone rogue—one who had been in a brawl or two, judging from the bend in his nose.

      Even though Poppy wasn’t here to flirt, she risked another peek but wished she hadn’t when she discovered his eyes still on her. His lips twisted in a half smile, and her face grew hot. She glanced in the opposite direction, willing her cheeks to cool and reminding herself to focus on Jamie and her reason for being here.

      Although who knew if she would ever get a chance to speak to him. The crowd around Jamie showed no signs of leaving and neither did Emmy. Poppy sighed. She wanted to do this as soon as possible, but if no one was going to cooperate...

      “Poppy Sullivan.”

      She turned. Of course, Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous had sidled over to her side of the patio. She ignored the ripple of interest cresting through her and put on her best politely disinterested face. “Excuse me?”

      “It’s good to see you.” When she 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. Worse, to act as if they were long-lost friends.

      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 turned away. The crowd of well-wishers still surrounded Jamie.

      Beck laughed, and her nerves clashed. He was laughing at her now? She sniffed. Clearly, he hadn’t developed any charm in the preceding decade. “And here I thought I’d made an impression.” His words whispered against her ear.

      She jerked away from him. “Do you mind?”

      “Not at all.” He smiled. “Nice night for a party.”

      She shrugged, took a step back. He moved with her. Not touching, but close enough that the heat rolling off his body warmed her skin. Silently, they watched the scene playing before them.

      Poppy focused on the details of the party instead of the man behind her. Occupational hazard. She couldn’t attend any event without thinking about how she would have done things differently, and taking notes of what she might use in future.

      Emmy and Jamie had made smart choices, getting all the key points right. Plenty of light, good flow and loads of food and drink. The other bits were simply details adjusted to suit the client’s personal preference. Poppy wouldn’t have tossed tulle over everything or matched the table runners and flowers to Emmy’s shoes. Obviously, Emmy had chosen the colors with her outfit in mind and Poppy doubted any well-reasoned logic would have convinced her it wasn’t a wonderful idea.

      Brides were notorious for being temperamental, insisting on one thing and then sobbing when they changed their minds, as though one minuscule detail meant the difference between a long, happy marriage and one filled with strife. Poppy had stopped planning weddings a couple of years ago for those exact reasons, choosing to focus on business events and functions. Less indecision and no one had ever cried all over her because the napkins at their holiday party were ruby instead of crimson.

      “So?” Beck’s voice drew her attention, caused her to turn before she thought better of it. “Aren’t you going to ask how we know each other?”

      Oh, he’d like that, wouldn’t he? Though she might not have seen him for years, she knew his type. He prided himself on being unforgettable to women. Well, it was time he learned a lesson.

      “No.” But she couldn’t help noting how good he looked. Really good. Though she’d give up chocolate before admitting it.

      She turned on her heel, intending to return to the party and find someone—anyone else—to talk to, but his hand caught her bare arm above her wrist. His fingers were warm. She shivered.

      “I guess I’ve changed. You’re as gorgeous as ever, Red.” His blatant appraisal of her body should have pissed her off—she was not his to behold. But the attraction sizzling through her was impossible to deny.

      Poppy shook the thought off. She did not want him looking at her. Not even a little. He’d lost that privilege years ago, and a bit of sexy banter and warm hands didn’t change anything.

      “If you’ll excuse me.” She pulled her arm free and hurried away before he could stop her again. As Poppy made her way through the partygoers, she did her best to ignore the sudden knocking of her heart. But when she sneaked a glance back, Beck was still watching. He even had