AJ stepped outside on the balcony to get some fresh air and scanned the crowd of gathering guests on the deck below for cocktail hour. It was a mixed group, half were Costases. His dad’s side of the family treated his mom as if she were still one of them. Relatives had flown from across the United States as well as Canada to be there for her big day. The other half of the guestlist included colleagues of Dr. Sterling. AJ had met most of them during his youth. Whenever the Sterlings hosted a fundraiser, party, or any sort of social gathering that their boys, Tristan and Liam, attended, the twins and Frankie were always welcomed. They treated all five kids as if they were being raised together, which they were. Although that would make Tristan and Frankie siblings or cousins, and since she was engaged to Tristan, he doubted she’d appreciate that.
He heard footsteps behind him and felt a slap on his shoulder that was instantly recognizable.
“Hey, do you know what’s going on with Frankie?” his brother asked, handing AJ a beer he’d collected from downstairs.
“No.” AJ winced slightly. His brother never understood his sensory sensitivities. Considering they were in their early thirties, he wasn’t holding his breath that he would come around any time soon.
“She and Tristan are broken up. Apparently he cheated on her with Emmanuelle, yes, thatEmmanuelle.”
AJ wouldn’t consider himself a pop culture expert by any means, but even he knew who the supermodel Emmanuel was.
“Is she okay?” AJ wished he would have gotten that moment alone with her now.
“Apparently she’s hooking up with Zee.”
AJ knew it was dangerous territory to say things were impossible, especially when dealing with such volatile variables as human beings, but he was going to go out on a limb and say that was absolutelynothappening. He’d spent time, significant time, with his sister and her best friend, Zion Ash, and there was no romantic undercurrent to their friendship.
“What about you? You still seeing that Avery?”
“Emory, and no.”
Niko always stayed with AJ when he played the Washington Nationals, and he’d met Emory the last time he’d been in town.
“What happened? I liked her.”
“She gave me an ultimatum that I bring her to this wedding, or it was over.”
“Ultimatums are never any good.” Niko took a swig then shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, man.”
“Why? You didn’t do anything.”
“Niko! Niko! Niko!” Their grandma Yaya came out onto the balcony. “You come and take picture of self with boy and then you go get umbrella from car.”
Yaya was standing with a teenage boy that AJ had seen working around the resort and overheard the owner, Amanda, call Noah.
“The wedding was moved inside, Yaya,” Niko reminded her.
“You go get umbrella,” Yaya insisted.
“Yes, ma’am.” The right side of Niko’s mouth curled in a lopsided grin, revealing his deep dimple. “Duty calls.”
Niko walked back into the room for the photo op, and AJ turned his attention back down to the mingling guests. His eyes scanned the crowd, and his pulse picked up speed searching for the woman who had taken up residence in his brain for the past week with dark brown hair and light eyes.
AJ had no clue why he’d thought Poppy might be a guest today. She was the half-sister of the groom’s estranged son. Not even his son, the man he’d raised as his son. But all week, something was telling him she would, so, when he arrived, he confirmed his suspicion. The first thing he’d done when he and Niko parked at the venue was excuse himself to go to the reception hall, before he’d even seen his mom, and he looked at the seating chart. She was at table fourteen.
Now, as he stood on the balcony, he searched faces in a grid pattern when his eyes snagged on a brunette head of hair. Thewoman had her back to him. Her thick, glossy, chestnut locks fell to the middle of her back. She wore a tan trench coat, and the hem flared in the wind, revealing a hint of a deep burgundy dress that stopped at her mid-calf.
His heart rate sped, and his palms grew damp, which did not make sense. He did not have empirical data proving that the woman he was looking at was Poppy. So there was no reason for his physical response.
A woman wearing a white button-down shirt, bow tie, and black slacks approached his brunette in a trench coat. She spoke to her as she handed her a drink. He watched as the brunette took a sip and then froze. AJ was trying to see what had caused the woman to go still. He followed her eyesight but couldn’t see anything other than Niko running to the parking lot, but he would have been probably ten yards away from her, so he doubted it could be him.
Whatever it was, she quickly recovered and set her champagne flute down. She began to pull her arms out of her coat. As she did, AJ’s throat went dry and his mouth watered simultaneously, which he would have thought was impossible. It was the oddest phenomenon, one he’d never experienced. As the jacket slipped from her shoulders, the world around him went completely silent. The dress she wore was form fitting and emphasized her hourglass figure. Her hips flared, and the material hugged the ample curve of her ass. The shade reminded him of a rich-bodied red wine.
She handed her coat to the woman who’d approached her and then picked up her drink. As she turned towards the heater a few feet to her left, AJ watched a small shiver race through her body.
His impulse was to rush down the stairs and wrap her in his jacket, the one he and Niko had picked up from Gunnarson Haberdashery on their way into town. He resisted the out-of-character impulse, and when his eyes traveled back up her body, past the creamy skin of her chest, past the delicate lines of her neck, they reached her full lips and continued upward to her stunning light blue-green eyes.
She was facing him now. Itwasher. It was Poppy Davies. He’d somehow known that she was the woman in the tan coat. How had he known it was her?
