Poppy Montgomery.

Now there’s a name that never leaves my conscious—but that face, those hot full lips I would love to take a bite out of, they never seem to leave my dreams. It’s one thing to think about her, but another altogether to have her here in the flesh. Her beating heart was just a second away from mine last night. I didn’t want her to leave like that, but it seems like my entire life I’ve had the ability to chase her away. It wasn’t always that way—somewhere around sophomore year I turned scaring Poppy away into an unintentional art form. Wish to hell I knew what I did wrong. I rack my brain trying to figure that out every damn day.

“Penny for your thoughts.” My mother comes up beside me as I stare out the window at the construction crew working busily away on this the first day of the new year. I didn’t hang out after Poppy left last night. In fact, I followed her home just to make sure she got there safe. I hung back far enough for her not to notice. I’m not sure she would care if she did. I’m not sure why I care. I’ve never been hated so much by anyone the way that girl hates me. Not that I didn’t secretly enjoy every moment we’ve ever spent together. I made all of her rage worth her while. Half the things I did in my life were meant to infuriate that girl.

“It’ll cost you a billion,” I tease as I sigh at the sight. “Contractor says two more months. You think you can handle my man stink for that long?”

Mom tips her head at me in the way only moms can do when they’re looking at you from under their lashes. For the most part, she’s a shorter, far more feminine version of myself, and I’ve always been proud to take after her in more ways than one. She’s a strong woman. Full of fight with a feisty heart. “Only if you throw that stink in the shower every now and again.”

“Will do.” I ruffle up her hair.

The property my mother owns is more or less a compound spread over three hundred acres. The day I turned eighteen I moved into the guesthouse about a stone’s throw from the main house. My father died just prior to that, and I knew I didn’t want to leave a house full of my favorite women all alone in the countryside.

My older sister, Jules, was dating at the time, and Kali was still in middle school. And now that Jules is newly divorced—the asshole who thought it was a great idea to marry and knock her up—left her with a two-year-old boy whom I’ve become a surrogate father to, I couldn’t live too much farther. I’ve given the guesthouse to Jules and my sweet nephew Jensen while I’ve built—am in the process of building, a new home for myself just about a half mile down the road. Kali is still in the house with Mom, and I think everyone is happy with this new arrangement.

Mom gives a little chuckle. “Word on the mean streets of Oak Grove is that Poppy Montgomery flew in on her broomstick last night.” She gives a little wink while stirring her coffee. I know that broomstick quip was meant to rile me up more than it was an insult toward Pops. Mom loves Poppy as if she were her own. “Charlene invited us to dinner tonight to welcome her back. How many stocks of Stade Steel do I have to bribe you with to make sure you show up for that good time?”

My heart gives an unnatural thump. Here it is—show time crept up on me a hell of a lot sooner than I expected. “Of course, I’ll be there. And you know that big announcement you and Char have happening in just a few weeks?”

Mom jogs in place, nearly spilling her coffee as she gets worked up like a giddy schoolgirl. Her eyes burn bright as blue flames. My father used to say I have my mother’s eyes, and that’s something I don’t mind at all. I happen to think my mother is beautiful both inside and out, no matter how certifiable she’s proven to be over the years.

“I’ve got a little announcement myself I’ll be making tonight.” I give a quick kiss to her cheek as I take off.

“Wait a minute!” she calls after me. “An announcement? You know I’m no good with suspense! I can’t wait until tonight!”

A dark laugh pulses through me as I head out into the icy air, the snow billowing in mounds alongside the driveway. I start in on a sprint as I go to track down Kali and Jules at the guesthouse. I don’t think either of my sisters will care that I’ll be dating—or in the least pretending to date Poppy. Jules might flinch, but she’ll get over it. There’s only one person whom I think might do a little more than flinch, and that person is Conner Montgomery. He’s been like the brother I’ve never had, still is. I see him every damn day ever since I hired him as head of legal at Stade Steel.

No, Conner will not appreciate me anywhere near his baby sister. That’s too bad for Conner because we’re all grown up now, and I’m done listening to anything he has to say on the matter.

I should have never listened to begin with.

* * *

The guesthouse is quaint, which is a nice way of saying small as hell, but I made it work for eight long years. And much to my sister’s credit, she has managed to strip this tiny abode of any signs that a grown man ever lived in it. Instead, she’s turned it into a shabby chic disaster that any thirteen-year-old girl would die for.

Jensen runs over and whacks me on the knee with his toy fire truck that lights up and shrills an obnoxious howl in my ear. He’s redheaded and freckled and cute as a bug, and at the same time a doppelganger of the father who left him.

“Hey, buddy, why don’t you show me how to work the TV?”

“I knows dat!” The look of persistence in his eyes gets me, and I tuck a quick kiss to the top of his head. “I can do it for Mommy!” He takes off for the sofa, and I nod for Kali and Jules to join me at the table. My sisters all share my mother’s features, same dark hair, same siren blue eyes. There’s a saying in Oak Grove that the Stades are all dimpled lookalikes. It’s fair to say they’re right.

“What’s up?” Jules plucks Kali’s phone out from her hand, and now they’re both frowning over at me.

Just as I’m about to fill them in on my latest, possibly greatest deception, a fist grows in my throat, and I can’t seem to push the words out. There’s something about having this false relationship with Poppy of all people that seems to have struck a nerve. I couldn’t get her out of my head last night. Not that it’s anything new, but this time there was a genuine level of heartache behind it. Poppy and I are fragile. We have been for so long. I’m not sure what this will do to us. One thing is for sure—it’s going to get messy.

“What is it?” Kali’s eyes widen, large as windows that let you peer right into her sweet soul.

“It’s a surprise.” There. It’s about all I can manage at the moment. “I’m making an announcement tonight at the Montgomery’s. I’ll need both of you there.” I couldn’t tell them the truth. If Mom gets a whiff of this being a ruse, she might break them for the info, and I’d hate to put them in that position.

“You’ll be at the Montgomery’s?” Jules’s face tempers to repulsion. Jules is well aware that Poppy broke my heart. Ironic since Poppy is yet to be let in on that fact. “You do realize that Poppy is in town.” The look on Jules’s face is priceless. You would think having Poppy Montgomery in my life is the equivalent of head lice. Jules tips her chin down, her expression stern as shit. “Is it about the company?”

Ever since that clown she was married to took off, she’s seen the world through crap covered glasses. It’s as if she’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Not that her life will ever be hard. Our grandfather ensured that very thing once he founded Stade Steel. Nope. Forever the three of us will be well taken care of far beyond any material wealth most of the world will ever know. I think that’s why we strive to be close, to keep the lines of communication open, and to never, ever lie to one another—like I’m doing now.

“It’s not about the company.”

Kali huffs a quick laugh. “This has to do with her, doesn’t it?” Her face brightens with the question as if calling me out on my bullshit.

Kali was at the bar last night along with that kid she hangs out with twenty-four seven, Cole—and so help him God if he offends her with a simple wink. I don’t have a very high tolerance toward people of the opposite gender treating either of my sisters poorly. I’m still in the process of making Ron’s life a living nightmare for leaving Jules and Jensen—but at the moment, I appreciate him out of their lives. It makes room for peace, for me, for our family to grow tighter as a unit. After my father died, I became the man of the family and that’s exactly who I plan on being until my dying day.

“Well?” Kali’s eyes bug out. “I knew it. I saw the way you two were sitting at that table last night. And the way you both left at about the same time. Eww! Did you bring her to your room and screw her?”

Jules chokes out a laugh. “I bet if you woke Mom up, she would have cheered from the sidelines.”

As sick and twisted as that sounds, I know it’s true.

Jules sours as if on cue. “Don’t tell me you and that hussy have something happening between you. She treated you like less than dirt for the better half of your life. I’m not going to let her take advantage of you that way. And if she’s suddenly your best friend again after all these years, I can’t help but wonder if it’s some Stade Steel green she’s after.”

Poppy isn’t a gold digger, but as much as I want to defend her, it’ll only rile Jules up. Jules can be rabid once she gloms onto a subject. Get her lathered up in a heap, and there’s no letting go of it on her part. And the last thing I want her shredding to pieces is Poppy.

“You’ll have to wait and see like everybody else. Dinner tonight at the Montgomery’s. It’s going to be a memorable night.”

“I bet.” Kali kicks me from under the table as if she’s already enjoying the prospect of Poppy and me toughing it out. Not that the thought of being with Pops would be tough on any level. I miss her. The old Poppy, Eight Ball to be exact. I miss the old us. I miss my father being here and our mothers colluding to get us together. I miss a lot of things. But this new version of what we’ve become is one thing I can do without.

Jensen crashes into my arms as Jules snorts out a laugh. “I wouldn’t miss tonight for the world.” Jules shakes her head at me, her eyes already both disappointed and curious as to why I’d ever keep a secret from her. “What have you gotten yourself into, Jaxson?”

“Wait and see.” I turn Jensen into an airplane for the rest of the afternoon. I could listen to his laughter all day long, and I do just that until it’s time for dinner with a girl I never thought I’d see again.

Poppy and I are about to kill it.

It’s show time.

* * *

I put on a suit. I take off a suit. I put on my favorite jeans. I take them off. I take two hot showers, brush my teeth ten times, and practically down the mouthwash. How far are we going to take this? Why isn’t Poppy returning any of my text messages? Was this all some big prank on me? The thought has crossed my mind about a dozen times this afternoon. Poppy has always been up for tossing a good jab my way. There weren’t too many occasions that I escaped that razor-sharp tongue of hers.

A dull smile comes and goes. I’d love to tame that little shrew. And as much as I used to pretend I hated our acid coated banter, I secretly loved every barb-wired minute.

I opt for the button-down shirt, twill blazer, and a pair of cords I’ve excavated from the dusty end of my old closet. It’s strange being back in my childhood bedroom. Of course, I could leave, stay at a hotel, not that there is a plethora of choices in Oak Grove. But Denver is certainly an option. I can run the company from a satellite office for as long as I like—hell, I own the company. I can uproot my office any damn day I please, but I choose to leave it be each and every time.

My mother and sisters drive down to the Montgomery’s first. I pull in last, not so much to make an entrance, but because for the first time in as long as I can remember, I’m nervous as hell.

The minute Poppy Montgomery walked into that bar looking hot as liquid steel, her tiny body squeezed into those jeans, that leather jacket that screamed let me tie you up and teach you a lesson or two—and I would welcome Poppy tying me up, although I have a feeling she’s going to teach me a lesson or two regardless—I knew I was in for a ride I would not forget. Poppy was smoking hot, and I wanted nothing else but to stomp my way over and toss her onto the nearest table and take her like a beast. I may be known for my revolving door of bedmates—although there have been far fewer than public perception has been rumored to believe—but in my spare time, during every lonely night it’s Poppy I go to bed with.

Before the great fall that spelled out our demise, Poppy was the closest I had ever gotten to another human being. Since then, there have been plenty of girls, but not one of them has even compared to the intimacy Poppy and I once shared. Ironic, since I never knew Poppy in a carnal sense. And a part of me wonders, hopes against hope, that our relationship might take a turn for the carnal. But the truth is, with Poppy, I’d want something far more than that. I’d want everything we had back in spades, and then some.

The Montgomery home is stately in a humble, suburban country house sort of way. They live a good ten miles from us, but as the crow flies you could cut across the woods and cross our property and end up on theirs.

I spot Frasier Montgomery on the porch swilling a highball in his hand, whiskey over ice with seltzer to finish it off, just the way my dad used to drink it. Much like Charlene and my mother, Frasier and my dad were the best of friends. Way back when, my father offered Frasier a position at the steel mill that would have set the Montgomerys up with a nice nest egg, stock options, mega retirement payout, but Frasier was too proud to take it, and retired recently from the insurance job he held for a majority of his life.

“Well, if it isn’t the prince of peace.” He offers me a quick slap to the back as we head on in.

“That’s one nickname I don’t think I’ve ever been called.” I laugh at the thought.

“Are you kidding? You’ve been as quiet as a ghost. I don’t think I’ve seen you at this end of town in the last five years.” It’s true. For as close as my mother is to the Montgomerys, I never seem to venture over.

Conner is in my life on a daily basis, and that’s always been enough Montgomery for me. My stomach clenches at the lie. Yes, Conner has been around for me, but I’ve always craved a little more Montgomery. I’ve craved Poppy. She’s addictive, the kind of person people naturally magnetize to, and not always for the right reasons. She’s a show if anything.

Five years. It’s been five long years since Poppy left for L.A. and this house became a painful reminder of everything that transpired between us.

“That’s right,” I muse as I take in the familiar foyer. “But I’m haunting the place tonight,” I say, ducking into what amounts to a time warp. The Montgomery home is light and bright, white walls, painted wooden floors, a cluster of family photos on all of the walls. Every free surface is adorned with frames filled with pictures that I remember seeing as a child. If it’s one thing Charlene Montgomery is good at, it’s holding on to the past. And ironically, if it’s one thing Poppy Montgomery is good at, it’s forgetting it ever existed.

I glance into the living room and spot Poppy with Sadie, and behind them Jules and Kali mill around with Conner. But Poppy. She’s stunning in red. Her hair is long and wild, and the unruly beast in me demands to twist it around my wrists as I make her mine.

“Jaxson Stade?” Char shouts so loud that everyone behind her stops all movement and turns my way. “Look who decided to come to dinner!” She glances to my mother, shocked as hell. It’s clear that Mom held out on her as she barrels on over, squeezing my cheeks as if I were three-years-old all over again. “My God! Did you know that Poppy is here tonight, too? It’s a real Montgomery-Stade reunion with all of the important members front and center!”

My eyes snag on a picture of my father just over her shoulder. It’s the picture we took as a family—the last one—at Lawson creek after Kali caught a trout. It’s hard to believe that family as I once knew it is done and in the record books.

I want to correct a well-meaning Char, that no, not all of the important members are front and center tonight.

Poppy appears beside her mother wearing a grin and not much else. Holy hell, that dress, that body, those eyes that have always seemed to see right through me.

My mouth opens, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what comes next.

“I think dinner is getting cold,” Poppy offers, and both our mothers busy themselves ushering everyone to the table. And just like that, here we are, alone, just Poppy and me, a deception at the ready that involves the two of us in ways I used to dream about.

Poppy steps in close, her perfume pours over me like a fine wine, and I would give anything to drink this girl down right now.

Damn, she smells good, intoxicating. And those velvet eyes. How I’ve missed them. I thought I knew how much, but having her here next to me, the warmth of her body exuding toward mine makes me ache in the deepest part of my heart.

“So—are you still up for offering those two the scare of a lifetime?” She wrinkles her nose, and I fight the dirty grin dying to take over.

“I’ll say it again. I’m in.” I lean in, towering over her like some sexist oaf. “Where do we draw the line?” Everything in me wants to trace out her lips with my finger. I’d die happy just to trace out her body with my hands.

She swallows hard. Her breathing picks up, but her eyes are still secured to mine. “I’m in it to win it, Gordo. Do whatever you have to do to make this believable. It’s only the deep end that matters, right?”

A small laugh gets buried in my chest. That’s a saying we came up with shortly after we both mastered the fine art of swimming. An analogy for the hard part of things that we needed to conquer. It was only the deep end that mattered in most things. Poppy and I shared so many firsts together, it’s touching when you think about it. But we shared the bitter firsts, too, when things began to go south.

“This is the deep end, Pop. If you need a boost out of the pool—”

Her affect flattens from an opened mouthed smile to a stern, I-might-just-kick-your-ass frown. “I won’t need a boost, Stade.” The fact she just invoked my last name is not a good sign. Any invoking of the last name by either party was a clear signal someone was damn pissed. “I’m going to put on a show out there, and I suggest you do the same. This is no-holds-barred. Now, grow some hair on your balls and let’s have them eating out of our wicked palms by the end of this night, got it?”

A dark laugh rumbles in my chest, but I won’t give it. “I got it. You realize this might kill your brother.”

“You realize my brother might kill you.” There’s a touch of a smile when she says it, and now I’m wondering if that’s been the plan all along.

“Touché.” I touch my thumb to her cheek, just shy of her lips, and she twists into it as if begging me to touch her mouth. “We’re going to make this look like the real deal. You and I are going to date, Eight Ball—and you’re going to like it.”

And deep down, so the hell am I.

If Poppy wants a show, that’s exactly what she’ll get. I’ll deal with Conner later.

Dinner goes off without a hiccup with Poppy seated right next to me as if it were a natural occurrence and not something more along the lines of a solar eclipse, or a comet that shoots by Oak Grove for a hot L.A. minute.

Conner keeps me busy with talk of sports, the office, the girl he took home last night. Mom and Char yak up a storm about their favorite things, themselves, their friendship, their blog, their big sixtieth bash coming up in a few weeks, and, of course, their secretive announcement that has had us curious for over a month now. Most likely some new recipe that they believe will be groundbreaking in the culinary world that exists outside of Oak Grove, or some new stunt their sixty-year-old twisted minds think is pretty nifty and will most likely cause unending humiliation to whomever they’ve pegged as their victim.

“Speaking of announcements.” Mom tips her head my way, her blue eyes filled with curiosity. “You mentioned you had something very special you wanted to share with us this evening.” Her eyes enlarge without stopping, and for a minute I’m convinced they’ll take over her head.

“Oh?” Charlene is seemingly perplexed by this. “Poppy mentioned she had something she could hardly wait to get off her chest as well. Isn’t this an interesting turn of events?” She strums her apple red nails over the table.

“That’s right.” Poppy stands and smacks my arm for me to do the same. Her chest pulsates in and out as she pants up a storm, and for a brief moment I envision her on top of me, those sweet tits that have been staring me in the face all night dripping into my mouth like honey. The thought alone makes me feel guilty for carrying on an entire conversation with Conner while thinking about licking his sister’s body in all the right places. “There’s something I’ve been keeping from you.” She picks up my hand, and an audible gasp circles the room. My own mother’s jaw roots to the hardwood floor. “Something we’ve both been keeping from you.”

Mom sucks in a hard breath as does poor Charlene, the two of them with their hands pressed against their chests. If this goes over too well, we just might have a double funeral to plan.

Conner clears his throat, his arms crossed over his chest as if to protest whatever is about to fly from her mouth.

Jules slaps a hand down over the table in protest, and poor Jensen looks up from the kiddie table at me. My heart breaks because I never wanted to lie to any of them. But I’m here, and Poppy Montgomery is holding my hand, and for a moment, everything seems right with the world. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least to see Dalton Stade, my own dead father, walk right through those doors. This is a night of impossibilities, and surely that would be the biggest one of all—outside of this miracle taking place beside me. I want to pinch myself to see if it’s real. Every face that I’ve known all my life stares up at me in a mixture of horror and disbelief—utter delight in our mothers’ eyes, and yet a twinge of doubt there as well.

My mother tosses down her napkin with all of the drama she can drum up on this cold January night. “What in hell’s name is going on?”

I clear my throat as I look to Poppy. She’s frozen. Her breathing has gone from panting to hardly taking in enough oxygen to keep her on her feet.

“What we’re trying to say is”—I look into Poppy’s lime green eyes, and a swell of relief comes over me because I don’t want to pretend with her. I want to believe it’s so, that every bit of this is real—“the two of us are together now.”

An audible grunt comes from the motherload end of the table, followed by whimpers and the frantic flailing of limbs as they fan one another in an attempt to keep from passing out. Conner stands for a moment in protest, mumbling an indistinguishable threat before falling back into his seat.

“Okay.” Char holds out a hand. “You’ve got us. I don’t think I could take much more. The gig is up. It’s not funny.” She wags her finger our way as if to admonish us further.

Crap. I glance to Poppy, and her smile tightens as she squeezes the shit out of my hand, code for what I’m assuming means do something right fucking now.

“No joke.” I pull Poppy’s hand to my lips and linger over her velvet flesh a moment too long. “We’ve been secretly in touch for months now. We’re officially a couple.” Her eyes widen a notch when I say it. “And we wanted to let you in on our little secret.”

Jules shakes her head in protest, but for the most part I’ve managed to silence the masses once again.

Kali looks right at me with that this-is-the-no-bullshit-zone look on her face. “Is this true?”

“Yup. I went out to see her this Christmas.”

Mom gasps and points over to me with a stabbing finger. “You swore you had a business meeting in New York you couldn’t get out of.”

“You did.” Conner shoots a suspicious look from Poppy to me. Conner may be aware of my schedule, but he doesn’t have a GPS tagged to my briefcase.

Yes, I did, but that’s beside the point. Poppy didn’t show up for Christmas, so that creates the possibility.

“I knew if I said Los Angeles you’d put the pieces together.”

My mother shakes her head as if there wasn’t the slightest chance she could have, and judging by that shocked as hell look on both their faces, I can tell we’re off to a damn great start.

“Oh dear. Is this really happening?” Char clutches onto poor Frasier as if everyone in the room is suffering a mass hallucination.

“It’s happening,” Poppy assures. “In fact, the reason we’ve decided to spring it on you so quickly is because, well, we’ve sort of been moving quickly ourselves.” She straightens. “Not like that, Dad.” The room breaks out into a nervous chuckle, with her sister being the loudest and Conner being the quietest. I don’t know what Mack finds so funny, considering this was her bright idea. I make a mental note to send her a thank you somewhere down the road.

“What she’s trying to say is”—I wrap my arm around Poppy’s tiny waist and pull her in close—“we’re madly, deeply, crazy in love.” I gaze into those lily pads she calls eyes, those deep unknowable wells you could dive into. “We don’t want to keep our feelings a secret anymore.” I kiss the back of her hand and pull her in tight until her soft tits rest over my chest. “And try as any of you might, there’s not a thing that can ever keep us apart again.”

“Oh my God!” Char sways in her seat, and I almost feel sorry for her. Heck, I almost feel sorry for my own mother who seems to be equally struggling to hold it together.

Frasier clears his throat, his face still rife with suspicion. “When exactly did the two of you reconnect?”

“I’d like to know that myself.” Jules offers me a hard look that says my ass is grass once we’re alone. I’ve never kept much from Jules. Kali was just a kid when Poppy and I went our separate ways, but Jules was someone I could talk to and I did. She knows just about everything. Just about.

“I’m in line myself.” Conner offers a smug look my way that says despite the evidence he’s in control of this haunted hayride. He gives a hard look to my arms positioned around her waist. “And, dude, get your hands the hell off my sister.”

Char swats him over the shoulder. “Oh, hush, you. They’re a couple now. Couples hold one another in public. Get over it. Your sister is in love.” Her entire face lights up like a Christmas tree. “They’re lovers!”

“They’re lovers!” Mom cries—and holy shit, the entire rest of the table looks as if they’re about to be sick.

Poppy picks up a knife and taps it over her glass, calling the room to order. “We’re not moving that fast,” she trills. “This is still something pretty new.” Her face darkens a severe shade of crimson. Poppy has always blushed at the drop of a hat. When we were kids, I used to say the first embarrassing thing to enter my mind just to watch her cheeks do their best impression of a pomegranate.

“But we are moving quickly.” I wrap both my arms around her tight.

Poppy looks up with those long lashes, that hot as fuck mouth, and all I want to do is run her up to the nearest bed and have my way with her. Poppy has always been the unattainable girl in a world where a plethora of girls offered themselves to me as a carnal sacrifice—usually in exchange for cash and prizes. I learned early that my bank account was just as great a lure to my mattress as any of my features.

“Very quickly.” She lets out a frenetic laugh, and dinner is officially over as Mom and Charlene clear the table and land a chocolate cake the size of a small car before us.

“It’s better than sex cake!” Mom yodels. Words and sounds you never hope to hear from your mother. “Of course, we made it for dessert, but it’s perfect to honor the occasion!”

Kali and Jules help dole it out while Mack pulls Poppy to the side for a minute. Most likely to congratulate her on a well-done performance.

Conner comes in red-faced and angry. “What the fuck, dude?” Those daggers in his eyes promise to stab the balls right off my body first chance they get.

“Whoa.” I nod as we step off to the side. “Watch your mouth. There are ladies present.” Okay, so I might be holding in a laugh, but only because I know how much this is killing him right now. A part of me knows I should put him out of his misery, but I’m rather enjoying that pained look on his face.

His shoulder butts into mine as he sets his angry face before me. Conner has Poppy’s eyes, and there have been times where just looking at him hurt. “One of those ladies is my little sister. Dude, have you lost your mind? I see what you do with those girls you pick up at the bar—it’s not pretty. And it’s not happening to my baby sister.”

“Look, loosen up. I’m not doing those things with her.” There. At least now he can catch his breath and maybe sleep at night. The dude is about to stroke out. “We’re taking it slow. Just seeing where things might lead.”

“They lead nowhere.” Conner jabs his finger hard into my chest, leaving a sting that radiates from his furtive stab. “Knock this shit off. I’ll have six girls sent to your office come Monday. Just lay the hell off my sister.”

“What’s this?” Poppy pokes her head between us. “He’s not laying the hell off me, Conner. He’s my personal boy toy.” Poppy cups my cheeks with her palms, and I twist into her. Holy hell, she is about to get us both killed. “Jax Stade doesn’t need six women sent to his office.” There’s something just this side of a dare in her eyes, and instinctively my balls warn me to be very, very afraid. We might be playing our mothers, taking her psychotic brother along for the ride, but something in that glib expression of hers says the joke might just be on yours truly. “The only woman Jax will ever need is me.” Her eyes linger on mine, and I’m mesmerized by how convincing she is. She’s right, of course. I’m just not sure she’s aware of it.

“A toast!” Charlene cries while holding up a slice of her sinful chocolate cake.

“Yes!” Mom shouts, holding up her own slice of chocolate heaven. I’ve grown up on that better than sex confection, and I can attest to its name. Although I’m betting a roll in the sack with Poppy might change that perspective. A visual of her falling over my lap like a jackhammer treks through my mind. Her naked body, pale, beautiful, those tits bouncing like—

“To Poppy and Jax!” Mom brings her hand to her chest as tears glitter in her eyes. “May the journey lead to a blessed union in the very near future!”

Poppy and I groan in unison. It never takes long for our mothers to do the matrimonial math.

“And children!” Char holds up a fork full of cake. “Lots and lots of children!”

The room breaks out into a sorry sort of congratulatory chaos—with the exception of the sheer exuberance of our mothers.

“How about a kiss?” Frasier holds up his wine, proving he’s legitimately toasted.

Both Charlene and Mom look to one another slack-jawed—most likely ticked that they didn’t think of it first.

“A kiss?” Poppy whispers. “That just might be the icing on the cake.” Her fingers press into my side as if encouraging me to take the initiative. But I don’t need encouragement. I’m already there.

I lean in, and her eyes widen. Her mouth falls open, and as much as I’d like to think it was out of anticipation, Poppy looks just as floored as everyone else in the room.

But I go for it. My lips brush lightly over hers, and the world, my life, my heart stops. I have kissed a cast of thousands—mostly horny as hell women. My lips have touched even more than that, but this simple, lighter than air, feathery brush has proven far more erotic than anything I’ve ever experienced.

Poppy pulls back with a breath caught in her throat.

Our mothers moan and gasp for breath themselves in disbelief.

“You kissed me,” Poppy mouths just before biting down on a smile waiting to break through.

“And I’m going to do it again.”

“Oh no, you’re not.” Conner spins me toward him, and the last thing I see is the whites of his outraged eyes before his fist connects with my jaw. And just like that, a fistfight of the ages breaks out.

There are two things I’ve waited years to do—first, land another kiss onto Poppy’s lips. And second, beat the shit out of Conner Montgomery.