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,” she called, trying to hurry but not wanting to twist an ankle either. Her shoes weren’t made for hiking, unless it was along Robson Street.
He stopped and turned to face her. “Hey, Pop-Tart.”
She grinned at his use of her old nickname. Jamie stopped at the edge of the stones, before the copse of trees that created a barrier and provided privacy from neighbors and anyone at the lake.
“Finally,” she said when she reached him. She checked out the dirt path that led through the trees down to the lake and decided there was no point in keeping her shoes on. She’d only get a heel stuck and take a header. She slipped them off and hooked them on her fingers, linking her other arm through Jamie’s. “It seems like we’ve barely had a second to say hello.”
“Yeah. Emmy’s been keeping me busy with wedding stuff.”
Poppy tried to match his swoony smile, but she was pretty sure she failed. No matter. She wasn’t here to compare expressions.
“How are you holding up?” she asked as they made their way down the path. Jamie slowed his natural pace so she could watch where she placed her feet. Fortunately, the path was well maintained and clear of all branches and other debris. No beer cans in sight.
“Good, really good.”
“Good,” she said, though she didn’t think it was good at all. She glanced up at him, appreciating the sun that filtered through the trees and glinted on his hair. She used to tease him that he looked like an angel. An angel to Beck’s devil. She shook the thought out of her head. There was no room here for anything except Jamie. “You feeling okay about the wedding?”
He nodded. “I guess it’s true what they say about knowing it’s right when it’s the right person.”
Poppy didn’t believe that. And she wasn’t about to let Jamie believe it either. But she didn’t know how to bring up her concerns naturally.
The birds twittered around them and leaves rustled in the gentle wind as they made their way to the dock’s steps. Jamie climbed up first, then held his hand out to help her. She smiled as his warm fingers clasped hers, and she didn’t let go once they reached the top.
She needed to do this. Just jump in and ask.
“Jamie, I need to ask you—”
A loud crack stopped her short. She swiveled her head to look. What the...? And saw Beck crashing through the woods like a poorly trained elephant.
CHAPTER SIX
BECK GRINNED WHEN he saw Poppy glaring at him. She should be thanking him. The rest of the family was only seconds behind him. He heard them thundering down the path.
“Beck—” her voice was tight “—do you—”
“Emmy changed her mind about the dock,” Beck said to Jamie, though he only had eyes for Poppy. “The whole group is coming down.”
Understanding dawned on her face but didn’t stop her from stepping away from him when he tried to sling an arm around her shoulders. Since that only made him want to get closer, he backed her up to the edge of the dock so she had nowhere to go, and wrapped his arm around her side.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered.
“Making it look good,” he reminded her. And if he copped a feel of her lean body at the same time, well, he was only human.
She attempted to shrug off his arm, but Beck wasn’t going anywhere. “They’re almost here,” he said to her. “So you might want to start looking a little appreciative.”
She stiffened. “I was on the verge of success.”
Beck doubted that. If she had been, she wouldn’t be standing here with him scowling as Jamie hurried off the dock to greet Emmy as though the two had been separated by miles and months instead of minutes.
“I was,” Poppy said when she caught sight of his skeptical stare. “We were about to share a moment and then you busted out of the trees and completely wrecked it.” She tried shrugging off his arm again. “You’re supposed to be helping me.”
“I just did,” he said, and settled his arm around her more firmly. “Or were you hoping to have your little talk with Jamie with an audience looking on?”
“You know I wasn’t.” She frowned at him as though this was all his fault.
In truth, he could have let the crowd descend on her while he stayed back at the house, but he hadn’t. He’d tried to be the good guy here, which wasn’t a role he played often.
“Couldn’t you keep them away? You promised to get me some alone time with Jamie.”
“And did you not get some?” By his estimate, they’d had at least five minutes to themselves.
“Well, yes, but—”
“No buts.” Beck shook his head. “If you couldn’t get the job done in the allotted time, that’s your fault.”
He saw her temper flare. “My fault?” She elbowed him in the ribs, smiled when he blanched. “If you hadn’t horned in where you weren’t wanted—”
“Oh, I think I was wanted.” He cocked his head to indicate Jamie. “Did you get a look at his face, Red? He could barely wait to leap into the arms of his one true love.”
“Do. Not. Call. Me. Red.”
“Fine, Auburn.” He noticed she didn’t say anything about Jamie, just looked in his direction with a pinched expression on her face.
“Is it really so bad?” he asked. “They seem happy.” Marriage might not be his thing, but it seemed to agree with Jamie. And Emmy was nice enough.
“Hello?” Poppy whispered. “She’s a gold digger.”
He frowned. “A what?”
It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard the term before. But Emmy? Emmy was the opposite of a gold digger. Her father owned the company that provided the Lefebvre Group with all their linens, from bedding to napkins. Neither Emmy nor Grace would have to work a day in their lives, but Beck didn’t say anything. If he told Poppy now, she would end their business arrangement.
“A gold digger.” She stared up at him with those bright eyes. “Don’t tell me the thought didn’t cross your mind. Didn’t you run a background check on her or something?”
“No.” But only because he hadn’t needed to. “Look, Emmy’s not a gold digger.”
“How would you know?” She put her hands on her hips and did her best to stare him down. “You didn’t even bother to look into her background.”
“I just do.”
“Well, I’m not so sure and I’m not about to let Jamie get tied