He was mesmerized, unable to take his eyes off of her as a man approached. A tall, objectively good-looking man with sandy blonde hair. She smiled up at him, and thanks to his ability to read lips, he could see that she was introducing herself to him.
An unpleasant feeling crept through him. It was tight and uncomfortable, almost as if his skin was too small for his body. He didn’t like it. He’d never felt that particular emotion before. He thought the impulse to cover her with his jacket was strong but the urge to go down the stairs and interrupt their conversation, was even stronger. More than that, he wanted to pull her away from him and sock him in the face. It was an extremely disproportionate impulse to what he was witnessing, and he didn’t know how to process it.
“AJ!” Niko called out.
Reluctantly he turned and saw his brother waving him inside. He was torn. A large part of him wanted to march downstairs and, at the very least, insert himself in the conversation. To introduce himself and tell her that she was the most beautiful, breathtaking, stunning woman he’d ever seen and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of her for over a week. Ten days to be exact.
But, since he didn’t want to have a protection order filed against him, he decided against acting on his impulse. Instead, he turned and headed back inside the room where his mom, sister, Yaya, and three aunts were gathered before the ceremony.As he rejoined the fold to take photos, which was the reason he’d been summoned, he wondered if his brother hadn’t called him back, would he have acted on his impulse? Not to sock sandy hair in the jaw or declare his recent obsession, but to go and introduce himself, to tell Poppy just how beautiful he thought she was.
It would be a first for him. He never approached women, they approached him. But then again,everythingabout Poppy Davies was inspiring firsts for AJ.
6
“So, what do you do, Poppy?”
Ah yes, they’d come to the occupation exchange portion of the mating ritual that was small talk. As much as she appreciated the effort this guy was putting in, she wanted to tell him he was wasting his time.
Grant was attractive enough, intelligent, and had cracked a few ‘dad jokes,’ so he had a basic sense of humor, but Poppy had no interest in anyone at this wedding except AJ Costas. The man, the myth, the legend.
Who is asked to join Mensa at seventeen? Poppy wasn’t even sure what Mensa was except that it was a group for very intelligent people. And then there was his job. Liam said he worked in intelligence. So mysterious.
Poppy tried to blow Grant off as politely as possible, unfortunately, the more disinterested she was, the more determined Grant seemed to win her over.
She would bet her last fertile egg that the man was a surgeon. He had the surgeon stench on him. She could sniff it out from a mile away. It made sense considering the groom was a world-renowned neurosurgeon. If she had to venture a guess, shewould go with cardiothoracic, although she was not willing to bet any part of her body on that.
“I’m an X-ray tech, and you are a surgeon,” she took a not-so-wild guess.
A flash of alarm zoomed across his eyes like a shooting star against an inky night sky as he tilted his head to the side. “Do I know you?”
A slow grin spread across her face. His reaction told her he’d bangeda lotof women in whatever hospital, or hospitals he’d worked at. She considered, briefly, fucking with him. If not for her own amusement, for the trail of broken hearts he’d most likely left in his wake. Her concern was once he realized she was messing with him, he’d interpret her ruse as flirtation. That was a risk she was not willing to take.
“You just have that smell about you,” she explained.
His brows raised. “Thatsmell?”
“You know…” She waved her hand in a wafting motion in front of her nose. “Expensive aftershave, latex gloves, rubbing alcohol, a hint of being highly paid to cut people open, with subtle notes of childhood trauma.”
“You’re funny.” He chuckled. “Do you psychoanalyze everyone this efficiently, or am I special?”
Before she could answer, a blonde with a slicked-back bun and a tailored suit who looked like she was half Bond girl, half Bond villain appeared like a genie in a bottle from a misty fog that had settled in the damp evening air. Poppy didn’t know her name, but she didn’t need to; she was clearly in charge of the event and possibly the universe. “Okay, if we can get everyone to come inside and take a seat, please.”
She may have added “please” but there was ice beneath the polite verb.
“Shall we?” Grant offered her his arm.
Poppy stuck with the polite blow-off, grinned, and began to walk sans escort, silently declining his presented limb. He took the soft rejection in stride and followed beside her.
“Are you on the bride’s or groom’s side?” he asked.
She had to think about that for a moment, it was quite the conundrum. Technically, she was there as a plus one to her brother, who was the son of the groom, but Liam didn’t like the man who raised him and was only there today because of how much he cared about the bride, who was like a second mom to him. And Poppy was only there because of the Grand Canyon-sized crush she’d developed on the bride’s son. And then there was the night she’d gotten wasted with Frankie, the daughter of the bride, at JT’s. That didn’t exactly make them besties, but she really liked her and hoped they would be in each other’s lives.
That relationship could be complicated because Liam had mentioned that Frankie was very protective of her brothers, especially AJ, but she had no intention of hurting the man. If anything, her plan was to help him have the best weekend he possibly could.
She could eenie meenie miney mo it, but for some reason, her gut, her instinct, and her intuition were screaming for her to say “bride.” She’d only ever regrettednotlistening to that voice.
“Bride,” she stated, fully intending that to be where they parted ways since the man was a surgeon after all.
Instead, his chin dipped in a nod. “Bride’s side it is.”
