“I’m sure you’re not,” he said with a light chuckle. “Is everything done?”
I nodded, chewing. I swallowed and said, “Rosie’s getting her hair done now. Her other bridesmaids are getting a bit of an ass-kicking from Mom for letting her out of their sight this afternoon, which was when I took my cue to leave.”
“Why is your mom kicking their ass?”
“Honestly? I think she’s one conversation away from losing her mind and having a breakdown, so we’re letting her get on with it at this point.” I shrugged and tore a bite of pizza off. “I ran away.”
He laughed and licked sauce from his finger. “Do you think everything will go right tonight?”
“Absolutely not.” I shook my head.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s my family. I have full confidence in the ceremony, but after it? Not a chance. It’s a miracle they managed to set it up without something going wrong?”
Adam leaned to the side and looked down the beach. “That it? In front of the bar?”
I nodded.
“Nice. What are the lights?”
“Lanterns. They’re positioned all down the aisle and around the arch. They’re all over the bar, too, for the party after.”
“It’s all outside?”
Another nod from me. “Rosie had her choice of inside or out, and since the wedding is so late, there’s no need for a sit-down meal. There will be speeches,” I rolled my eyes, “But it’ll all be informal.”
“And you have to make a speech?” His eyes twinkled.
“If you laugh at me, I’m never having sex with you again.”
He held up his hands. “I promise I won’t laugh at you. Know what you’re saying?”
“Yes, so I’ll forget it when I stand up to give it. Not to mention I’ve been informed that my stage is a chair.” That was asking for trouble.
Adam watched me for a second. “You don’t look happy about that.”
“I’m not. I’m not allowed to switch light bulbs anymore. Avery banned me.”
“Why?”
“Last time I tried, I slipped off the chair and broke the fixture because I took it with me.” I grinned innocently. “It’s not my fault it didn’t hold my weight.”
“Light fixtures aren’t made to hold human weight, Red.”
“I know that now, don’t I? You don’t need to be a pain about it.”
He laughed and closed the pizza box. We’d gotten through a little more than half of it despite talking, and now, Adam pushed the box to the side of the blanket.
“Is this the part of the date where we make out like horny teens?” I asked, catching his gaze with mine.
“No, because if that happens, you won’t be getting ready for anything except an orgasm.” His lips twitched. “And then I’ll be in trouble with your family.”
“That could work in our favor. They need a reason to dislike you. It’ll be easier when I tell them we’ve broken up.”
Now it was his turn to roll his eyes as he lay down. “We’ll come up with something. Maybe we drift apart once the season starts because I’m away a lot.”
“And girls throw themselves at you and it makes me feel like crap.”
“See? There. We nailed it.” He held his hand up for a high five with a grin.
I slapped my hand against his, and he caught my fingers with his, tugging me to him. I fell forward, using his chest as my landing pad. He let out a harsh breath as I fell on top of him, but I could only laugh.
“That’s what happens when you tug at me. I’m not a rope,” I told him, moving and looking down at him. “I’m a dead weight.”
“Oh, yes. All six-hundred pounds of you,” he said dryly. “Like a rock falling on top of me.”
“And you say I’ve got a mouth on me, hockey boy.”
“You have. I’m quite fond of it.” He grinned and flicked his thumb over my lower lip. “I never claimed I wasn’t sarcastic myself. Actually, I think you bring it out in me. Is it infectious?”
“No. It’s a language for smart people. It’s how we confuse the idiots.”
“Did you just call me smart?”
“You’d pull a compliment out of a toad, wouldn’t you?”
“Especially if they gave me a veiled one.” His laugh was the infectious thing. Especially when he threw his head back and closed his eyes, his whole body shaking with the power of it.
I buried my face in his chest and giggled myself. I didn’t know why. Nothing was funny.
Except this entire situation, that was.
Adam trailed a hand up my back and swept all my hair to one side of my neck. His fingers sent shivers down my spine as they trailed over my skin. Slowly, I raised my head and looked at him.
His full lips were curved in a smile, his eyes shone with the laughter that lingered in his gaze, and the stubble over his jaw was tempting me into touching it.
His eyes caught mine.
I gently rubbed my thumb over his jaw, following the curve of it as the stubble prickled at me. It was weirdly…good. Like, it was the strangest sensation, and I couldn’t believe that it was as enjoyable as it was.
Put “touching stubble” up there with stroking kittens.
I dropped my eyes to his mouth. His lips were there, and full, and smooth, and— Under mine.
I kissed him softly, cupping the side of his face. It was so natural and gentle that my heartbeat picked up, and it pounded against my ribs in a fierce beat that was so against everything this kiss was.
Slow. Steady. Soft. It was a real kiss, one that made your feelings sit up and take notice, even if your mind wanted them to sit back down and shut up.
And that was what was happening to me right now. Feelings. I had feelings for Adam Winters, and they needed to shut up and get back in their box where they belonged.
Those thoughts were sent flying from my mind when Adam rolled me onto my back, diving his hand into my hair and kissing me deeper. His tongue teased mine, and I slid my hand around to the back of his neck.
He stretched his arm out, and the next thing I knew, I was getting splattered by a very cold liquid.
Wine.
“Oh my God!” I shoved him off me and grabbed the empty glass. “Adam!”
He clapped his hand over his mouth. “Shit. I’m sorry. I forgot it was there.”
My hair was now covered in wine. “I have to shower again!”
“Just jump in the sea. That’ll do it.”
“I cannot go to my sister’s wedding smelling like sea water and Sauvignon Blanc. I am not a drunk turtle.”
He bent forward, shoulders shaking.
Oh no. I wasn’t going to have that.
I grabbed the other full glass and tossed it over him.
He froze.
I did, too.
I bit my lower lip, holding it between my teeth to hide a smile as he slowly, so very fucking slowly, raised his head.
“You did not just throw wine at me,” he said in a low voice.
“You did it to me first.”
“That was an accident.”
“So was that. I went to drink, then, whoops! My wrist flicked and it went all over you,” I said, doing the motion with the glass in my hand.
“Poppy…” There was an edge of a warning to the way he said my name.
I had only one option.
Run.
I scrambled up from the blanket and with a shriek, hit the sand. He was right behind me, and I barely made it ten feet before he circled me with his arms and lifted me up.
“No, no, no!” I laughed, gripping onto his forearms.
“You didn’t think you could outrun me, did you?” He spun, and I squealed.
“Yes!” I was still laughing. “It was worth a try.”
“Silly girl. You can’t outrun me.” Now, he was laughing. “You did it on purpose.”
“Fine! If I admit it, will you let me go?” My toes touched the sand.
“Yes.”
“It was deliberate. I threw it on you on purpose as payback.”
“Right.” His grip tightened on me and he lifted me again, this time spinning me several times, round and round.
“Adaaaaaaam!” I screamed. “Nooooo!”
Sure. I was screaming. But I was laughing, too. It was ridiculous, being spun around at twenty-four, but also weirdly fun.
It didn’t hurt that I was being spun around by however many pounds of smoking hot muscle.