Four Day Fling Page 2
“And you weren’t weirded out by me?”
“A little. But, hey. Despite that, I kinda like you, Red.” He gave me a lopsided grin and tilted his head to the side. “And I get your situation. I have four sisters, and if I ever showed up to one of their weddings without a date, my mom would kill me.”
“That’s pretty accurate as to what’s going to happen to me this weekend. With any luck, she’ll ignore me entirely.” I paused. “I’ll probably have a better weekend if she does, if I’m honest.”
Adam had his mug to his mouth, and he choked, slapping his hand over his mouth. “Jesus. I know that feeling.”
“I take my kicks where I can get them where she’s concerned. Especially since she’ll make my life a living freaking hell after the wedding.”
He coughed again, thumping his chest. “What’s the deal with the wedding?”
I peered over at him. “What?”
“What’s the deal? Is it a one-day thing? A weekend?”
Was he considering this? Being the date for a crazy redhead who watched him sleep?
I didn’t, but it sounded more dramatic that way.
“A four-day thing,” I said slowly. “It’s down in Key West. Arrive Friday morning, leave Monday night. The wedding is Sunday evening.”
“This Friday?”
I nodded. “It’s okay. It was a ridiculous idea. I panicked.”
“Hey—I didn’t say no. I was just confirming it was this weekend.”
I stared at him.
No. He wasn’t going to agree, was he?
“I couldn’t get there Friday morning because I have a work meeting, but I can drive down after and meet you there.” He rested his arms on the counter and leaned forward. “If you want me to, that is.”
I blinked quickly. “You—you’d pretend to be my date for the weekend just so I’m not tortured by my mother?”
“Yes, but if the situation is ever reversed and we’re both still single, I fully expect the favor to be returned.”
“You’re going to be my fake boyfriend?”
“Does being your fake boyfriend include real sex?”
Well, that was a scenario I hadn’t considered. Judging by the night before, though…
“I’m gonna have to release stress some way, and I’m really not a runner. Plus, last night wasn’t exactly terrible.”
He grinned, confidence fully shining through. “I agree. Look, Red. I’m free. I can do it. Just as long as it doesn’t get too awkward.”
“Why would it get awkward?”
His smile faltered for the tiniest moment, and he looked at me as if he didn’t understand why I was asking that question. “I’m your fake boyfriend,” he said, almost as an afterthought. “And all I know about you is how to make you orgasm.”
“That’s solid knowledge. That’s all you really need to know to make the weekend a success.” I gave him my own half-grin.
“All right, Red. Let’s do this.”
***
“You’ve lost your damn mind,” Avery said, pulling the cork out of the wine bottle with a little pop. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. Does he have a magic dick?”
Maybe.
“He’s just helping me out,” I said warily. “I mean, he gets something out of it, too. He gets sex.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay. You get your mom off your back for a weekend and regular sex.” She stopped, wine bottle ready to pour. “Wait. I see your logic.”
I laughed, tucking my feet beneath my butt. “It’s crazy. I know it is. I don’t know anything about him except that his name is Adam, he has a really nice house, he has a magic dick, and he makes a mean omelet.”
Straight-faced, she met my eyes and said, “Marry him.”
“Avery—”
“I’m serious. Omelets are hard, girl. I don’t think I’ve ever made an omelet that hasn’t ended up as scrambled eggs.”
“You burn toast.”
“I did that one time, and that was because my dumbass brother turned the dial-up. You know that.” She finished pouring the second glass of wine and handed it to me. “I’m just worried about you. You know what your mom’s like.”
“Exactly. That’s why I’m glad I have a date.”
“A date you don’t know.”
“I know him quite well,” I said. “I know how to make him come.”
“Oh, well, slap my ass and call me Suzy—that’s the kind of info your mom wants to know!”
I paused. “She might stop asking questions if that’s what I come out with.”
“She’ll call her local priest and send you in to confess your sins!”
“Lies. It’ll be an exorcism.”
“Which, ironically, she needs on occasion,” Avery mused.
“On occasion?”
“Hey, she’s still your mom. I’m just being real about it.”
“Being real would be comparing her to the devil himself. Or herself. Has anyone ever confirmed Satan’s gender?” I twirled my glass.
Avery shook her head. “Stop trying to distract from the matter at hand. Your date being someone you don’t know from Adam.”
“Good thing my name isn’t Eve, then.”
“Poppy.”
I sighed. “Avery.”
“Have you actually thought this through? I mean, from beginning to end, all the implications, your mom from the second you walk in until the second you leave?”
No. Not at all.
“She’s going to wonder why you haven’t mentioned him to her. She’s going to ask where you met, how long you’ve dated, what his job is, how rich his family is—”
“And I’ll give her the same old reply that money isn’t everything.”
“Says the girl from money.”
“Who lives with her best friend and works at the Cheesecake Factory,” I reminded her. “My parents have money. I do not.”
She let go of a sigh. “Point well made. But, still. She’s going to ask you all kinds of questions before you have a chance to figure out any answers, and you just know she’s going to bombard him the second he arrives. Don’t you remember senior prom?”
“As a rule, I try to forget it.”
“She stood at the end of your driveway for thirty minutes until Percy Hamilton got here, only to interrogate the poor bastard over his family’s financial situation and what his intentions were with you. You were eighteen.”
“And, if I remember correctly,” I said slowly. “He was so fed up with her by the time she got to the intentions thing that he told her he intended to take my non-existent virginity.”
Avery snorted into her glass. “I thought she was going to shit a cow. A legit cow. She was furious, but she had to let you go.”
“And that was exactly why Percy didn’t get laid that night,” I reminded her. “I was eighteen and she took away my car keys.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that your mom is a control freak?”
“Every single day since I was old enough to understand what such a thing was.” I nodded solemnly. “Which is why I think I might be able to get away with taking someone who is basically a stranger to the wedding.”
“I don’t see your logic at all.”
I sat up straight, running my fingers through my hair. My elbow propped up on the back of the sofa, and I rested my head on my hand. “Think about it. It’s Rosie’s wedding. She’ll be so caught up in making sure nothing goes wrong, that she’ll forget about Adam pretty quick.”
“You underestimate your mother.”
“I’m an optimist.”
“Your t-shirt has three wine glasses. Two are half-full and labeled optimist and pessimist, and the third is empty and labeled realist. You’re the realist, Pop. The only thing you’ve ever been optimistic about is how much cheese sauce you’ll get on your fries.”
“Well, if there was ever anything to be optimistic about, it’s that.” I grinned. “I think I’ll be okay. We live an hour away from our hometown. My parents can’t pos
sibly know who he is, and we don’t talk enough for them to be concerned about whether or not I have a boyfriend. Besides, Mom hasn’t even asked me. I think she just believed me when I said I had a date.”
“That’s because you told her disbelief against your daughter was a sin, and she’s so menopausal that she believed you.”
“She manipulated puberty. Menopause is my toy.”
“I don’t think it works like that.”
“Probably not, but the notion of it is charming.”
Avery snorted. “You need to stop watching British sitcoms. You’re starting to talk ridiculous.”
“Look, just because I have an obsession with The Crown and you keep using your ex’s subscription for Friends doesn’t make me ridiculous,” I told her. “At least use Greg’s passwords for something decent. Like ordering midget porn to his apartment building.”
She paused, tucking her dark hair behind her ear. “Could I do that?”
“I would,” I said. “But I’m an asshole.”
“He did cheat on me.” She genuinely stopped and considered it. “Where would I find midget porn?”
“I’ll send you a link.”
“You know where to—” She froze. “No. You subscribed your mother to it?”
“No. Rosie did. I just found the subscription,” I said. “I’m not that evil.”
“What did she ever do to Rosie?”
“I don’t know. I never asked. I never considered that she’d have been a bigger pain in the ass to Rosie than me.”
“Well,” Avery said. “That is a very valid point. And I will consider the midget porn thing. Are you sure you don’t need me to come this weekend?”
I wanted my best friend and roommate at the wedding. She had a standing invite based upon the time she could get off work. In other words: my parents didn’t want to upset her parents since basically, our entire lives were intertwined, and my mom freaking loved Avery.
“Aves, if you can get off work, even for Sunday, you know you have a chair,” I reminded her.
“I’m not asking that. I’m asking if you need me. That’s something different. Do you need me?”
I nodded before I could change my mind. “But only if you can get away.”
She winked. “I’m sure I can figure something out.”
CHAPTER THREE – POPPY
Family and Fuck This
WELCOME TO KEY WEST.
I didn’t feel very welcome. The sign was bright and beautiful, sure. Friendly and touristy, but I wanted to be anywhere other than here.
It didn’t really matter that I’d seen that sign forty-five minutes ago. The roads all looked the same, and it was a miracle that they still did with all the tourists who drove up and down them every single day.
I already knew how this weekend would go. My nephew would make havoc rain down at every given opportunity. Grandpa would pull out some random story from his back pocket and tell everyone about it whether they wanted to hear it or not. My control-freak sister would go full Bridezilla. My mother would go all demon Queen and strike the fear of God into anyone who dared speak out of place.
And my dad? Well, he’d likely slip a glass of whiskey into the bathroom on a semi-regular basis.
I’d join him. That was the only way to cope with my freaking family.
I sighed as the giant resort my sister had booked for the wedding came into view. I wasn’t even on the resort property yet, but I could already tell I was a fish out of water.
No doubt both my mom and sister would be dressed to the nines like decent ladies. I was dressed in a shirt with a rooster and the caption, “What the cluck?” and ripped jean shorts.
God, I should have gotten a stomach bug. Faked it. Because this situation was only going to get worse when Adam showed up later this afternoon.
Fact was, what Avery had said to me made perfect sense, and I’d spent the last few days wondering what in the hell I was doing.
I didn’t know Adam from, well…Adam. I didn’t know anything about him. Sure, I knew that he had a body that would make a room full of women cry and a pretty magic cock—and one hell of a tongue.
But that didn’t change the fact that I didn’t know anything about him as a person. I didn’t know where he was born or if he moved or grew up there. What did he do for work? Did he graduate from college? What was his major? Did he have any hobbies? Who was he, really?
How the hell did I get through this without my eagle-eyed mother figuring out what I’d done? Then, no matter what happened, I was in big trouble. For lying, trickery—God only knew what kind of shit she’d pull out of her hat.
Ugh. This was just going to be hell on Earth, wasn’t it?
Why was I asking that? I knew that. I knew that this weekend would be hell the second Rosie had announced she was engaged and had set a date and booked the venue. Quite literally all in the same breath.
I’d moved out of Key West to see my family as little as possible. You can imagine how delighted I’d been to hear that I had to spend four days with them.
Now, as I pulled into the expansive parking lot that would rapidly fill up with my sister’s guests, those four days had begun.
I turned off the engine and sat for a while. With any luck, I’d be able to check into my room and dump my suitcase before running into any of my family.
Actually, my dad would be okay. He’d smuggle me to the bar and give me a shot of liquid courage to get through this weekend.
Hell, I needed the whole bottle.
Ugh. Double ugh. Triple ugh.
Knock knock.
I jumped at the knock right next to my head, whacking my hand on the gearstick in the process. Jerking my head around, I literally bit back a groan at the sight of my mother’s face pressed against my window.
She tapped one baby-pink nail on the glass and wiggled it in a motion that told me my game was up, and it was time to open the window.
I pressed the button to unwind it. “Hi, Mom.”
“Poppy!” She practically put her head through the window and tucked her chestnut-dyed hair behind her ear. “Why are you sitting out here in the parking lot?”
“I just got here,” I lied. If by “just” I meant twenty minutes, then sure.
“No, you haven’t. I saw your car pull in twenty minutes ago.”
“Were you watching?”
“Of course. You said you’d be here around eleven, and it’s eleven-thirty.”
Great. I should have known.
“Why are you sitting in the parking lot?” she repeated, smacking her light-pink lips together and shooting me a piercing gaze courtesy of her dark-blue eyes. “Are you delaying coming inside? For your own sister’s wedding?”
Jesus. I wasn’t even out of the car yet, and my inner black sheep was already showing.
“No. I have a headache. I took some ibuprofen and I was waiting for it to kick in before going inside.” Another lie, but this time, a little more believable.
Mom squinted. “You don’t look like you have a headache.”
I stared at her. “They have visible symptoms now?”
“Migraines do.”
“I don’t have a migraine. I have a headache. They’re entirely different.”
“Excellent. Well, twenty minutes should be long enough for your pills to kick in, so come on. We have things to do.” She stepped back from the car and opened the door.
That told me.
I grabbed my purse from the passenger seat and got out. “We? What do I have to do?”
“You’re the maid of honor. You have to ensure your sister has everything she needs.”
I almost choked on my own spit. “You want me to be her slave for the weekend?”
“No. But, you need to organize the bridesmaids, ensure the flowers are delivered to the right room on Sunday afternoon, make sure the bartenders on the beach bar don’t mess up the cocktails. Oh, and you also need to try their proposed special cocktails and pick two to be served at the reception.”
Mom paused by the trunk of my car. “That’s what you’re concerned about?”
“This place charges fifteen bucks a cocktail. I’m a waitress. Of course I’m concerned about it.” What? I wasn’t going to beat around the bush.
She sighed. “No, you do not have to pay for them. But you are not to get drunk. Oh, and, also—keep an eye on your father. I already stole a whiskey bottle from his suitcase.”
“He knows how to handle family gatherings,” I said under my breath as I opened the trunk.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Mom.” I hauled out my case.
“Poppy, where’s your bridesmaid dress?” Mom’s eyes widened.
Oh, good. Rosie hadn’t told her.
“It’s here. In Rosie’s suite. Where it’s supposed to be.”
She grabbed my wrist. “No, no. The last thing I heard, bridesmaids were bringing their dresses. Did you forget it?”
“Chill out, Mom,” my sister called. “It’s in my room.” She bounded down the stairs leading to the resort building and over to my car, her honey-blonde hair flowing behind her. “Hey, you!” She enveloped me in a big, tight hug.
I hugged her back. We had a great relationship. Mostly because we only saw each other on occasion. No doubt we’d hate each other if we saw each other every day—we were too alike.
“Mom, seriously, chill,” Rosie said, letting me go and touching her arm. “I went up to Orlando to find my dress, remember? We picked the bridesmaids’ dresses then, and I had them ship them all down to me. Poppy’s stayed so she could have her final fitting. It was here waiting when I checked in on Tuesday. I swear.”
Mom sniffed. “Someone could have told me. And I’m still bitter I wasn’t invited to the dress party.”
“And I said I was sorry, but it was the only time all the girls could get together to make the trip. If you hadn’t been on the cruise, you know you would have been there.” Rosie slid a wink in my direction.
That was a heavy dose of bullshit. We’d deliberately planned the dress party to coincide with my parents’ cruise.
I didn’t need to explain why.