21
Walker
Even though I know everything is under control, my fingers tremble as I straighten my tie. Beckett isn’t a dumb man. Things don’t just…slide by him. So, right now, I’m fucking terrified. But Poppy asked me to trust her, so I’m doing what I can to do just that.
“Good Lord, you suck at that,” Briar says as she walks into the room. “Let me fix it, would ya?”
“Go ahead,” I mutter, turning toward her.
For my entire life, Briar and I were close. So close. But now, she goes along so easily with Beckett’s plans. Never so much as putting up a fight. I can’t trust her right now, and that really sucks because I could use her in my corner. Poppy and I both could.
“When’s your big, happy, not-forced wedding day anyway, B?” I drawl slowly. “Not sure how I ended up in this situation before you did.”
Her body stiffens for a split second before she relaxes, as if she’s coaching herself to keep calm and not set off any alarms.
“Well, I’m not sure yet. We’re securing the venue and all that. It’s absolutely gorgeous and in Paris.” She speaks as if she’s trying to talk herself into it. “You’ll be there, right?”
When she finishes my tie, she steps back, nervously looking up at me when I don’t answer. “Walker?” she whispers. “You’ll be there, right?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “To be honest, watching my sister marry someone she hardly knows—someone our uncle is forcing her to marry just to build more connections and get richer and more powerful—is not really high on my list of shit to do.”
Her eyes drop to the ground, and her shoulders slump. Briar has always been incredibly kind and much more approachable than Poppy. But even so, my sister has always been tough and held her own. Apparently not anymore though.
“We’re both going to be fine,” she says softly. “We aren’t at Sunset Drive. No one can hurt us anymore. We made it out safely.” She reaches for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I can learn to love Enzo, Walker. And I know you can learn to love Gia too.”
“No,” I snap. “I will never love Gia, and you know it.” I step away from my sister, pulling from her hold just as my uncle enters the room.
“Looking good,” Beckett drawls. “Briar, I just got word that the cake and the rest of the liquor have arrived. Can you go down and get that situated?”
“Sure,” she whispers. “Where’s Natasha?”
“She’s still getting ready,” he says in a dismissive tone before waving his hand toward the door like the dickface that he is. “Go along now.”
Briar gives me one last look before she makes her exit. I know she hates to leave the room, thinking I’m upset. But the truth is, I am upset. She’s a pawn in Beckett’s game. And the worst thing is, she’s letting it happen. No, she’s fucking stringing up banners and welcoming it like it’s a fucking promotion.
“Y’all are going to make a damn good-looking couple. And I know she’s got a good rack for you to play with because I installed it.”
I hold back the things I want to say and keep them inside. Poppy and Hudson need me to play it cool, so I’m doing my fucking best to do just that.
“Hey there, nice hickey.” He laughs, pointing to my neck. “Guess y’all hit it off just fine after practice last night, huh?”
I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my lips, knowing exactly where that hickey came from. “Yep, I guess so.”
I nod, and he seems even more pleased.
“Good, good.” He claps his hands together. “I know this whole situation isn’t ideal, but look, my sister chose a fucking loser for a partner, and now, she’s dead.”
My heart stings when he mentions my parents. And although I understand my father wasn’t the best husband, my mom had her own demons too. It wasn’t all my dad’s fault that she went down such a bad road. As far as I can see, they chose that road together.
“So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, I know you and Briar probably wish things were different, but they are a hell of a lot better than they would be if you were still living on that godforsaken street.” He pauses. “Marrying into the Romano family will ensure that you have respect and wealth. Even if things don’t work out with hockey.”
I don’t bother telling him that things with hockey will be just fine. He doesn’t need to know about my deal with the Bay Sharks. The last thing I’m about to do is let him know anything about the New England Bay Sharks offer.
So, instead, I just nod. “Yep, guess so.”
Clapping his hand on my back, he heads toward the door. “It’s almost showtime. So, hurry up and head out back to the gardens.”
When he leaves, I take one last look at myself in the mirror and pray that everything will be okay.
*********
Poppy
“This is so stupid,” I whisper to Hudson. Who, of course, gets to wear his everyday security outfit, making all of the servers here swoon when they pass by. “Why do you get to look like James Bond, and I’m over here, looking like I just stepped out of the Cake Boss show?”
His stoic, unimpressed expression hardly cracks, but the corner of his lips lifts slightly when I point to my hat.
“A baker’s hat? Really?” I shake my head, looking down at myself. “Here I am, supposed to be looking like hot shit to remind Walker he’s not marrying that incredibly sexy Monica Bellucci look-alike. Only from, like, thirty years earlier. And you got me showing up here, looking like the Pillsbury Doughboy.” I shake my head. “You are so not allowed to be in charge of our disguises anymore.”
“First off, why are we suddenly tied into having disguises together?” He simply shrugs, completely unfazed. “Second, I’m friends with the lady who owns the bakery that Beckett ordered this annoyingly huge cake from. So, getting her to let us deliver it was an easy in.” He points to my black wig and glasses. “Besides, Beckett will never notice you behind the cake when you look so different.”
“Yeah, unless he notices my chest looks a little too flat in this white jacket. Then, Dr. Boobs will suddenly be using his nephew’s wedding day to drum up some business,” I huff out. “Come on. Let’s get this over with. Run through the plan one more time.”
“Once we’re in, I guarantee it won’t take Walker long to spot you. But he’s going to play it cool. Once it’s time for the ceremony, it will only be the Romanos, Walker, Briar, Natasha, and Beckett. He’s hired me to be on standby to make sure nothing goes south. You’ll be hiding behind the ginormous, stupid fucking cake that I can’t stand the sight of—”
“Do you have something against cake?” I ask, cutting him off. “Twice, you’ve talked about this cake in a negative way.” I point to it. “It’s cake. A huge, beautiful, likely delicious cake. What’s to hate?”
“There’s hardly anyone coming to this. Why the fuck do they need a cake this big?” he grumbles.
I shrug, looking it over. “I have no idea, but is it weird that I want to take some home?” I tap my finger on my chin. “Yeah, okay, it’s weird. Do I care? Hell no. I’m taking it home. My roommates will love it.”
Hudson gives me a look that I can’t really read, though I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m insane. But that’s okay. Maybe he didn’t grow up poor. The most exciting thing I got to eat on birthdays was a damn Twinkie. So, yeah, this cake is sort of the bomb in my eyes.
My eyes fix on who’s walking behind him, and I feel my heart drop, not just out of fear of being recognized, but also for Hudson’s heart.
I mean, the dude’s lock screen is this chick.
I look at Hudson, signaling for him to turn around. Slowly, when he does, their body language is undeniable. They both tense up, and he awkwardly clears his throat.
“Hudson,” she says, not nearly as sweet as she typically sounds.
“Briar.” He gives her a curt nod, but doesn’t seem to look directly at her.
“Didn’t realize you were working today,” she mutters before glancing around him to get a better look at me.
Feeling her eyes zeroing in, I quickly turn and act like I’m going to get something out of the delivery van that the bakery loaned us, but her voice stops me.
“Poppy?” she whispers, and I feel her stepping closer to me. “Holy shit, is that you?”
I slowly turn around to face her, looking at her through my fake glasses and thick black bangs of my wig. “It’s me,” I utter. “Please, don’t say anything.”
“I would never,” she says, taking my hands in hers as her eyes fill with tears. “I can’t believe it’s you. You’re here.”
Swallowing the lump that’s suddenly lodged itself into my throat, I bob my head up and down slowly. “I can’t let him marry her, B. Your brother deserves to decide who he wants in his life and what he wants, too.” I peer down at her. “So do you.”
That only makes her more emotional, but Hudson’s deep voice speaks before she has a chance to respond.
“We need to get this cake inside. It’s the last thing they are waiting for.”
Briar turns to look at him, and I watch the giant, hard, kind-of-scary dude that I’ve gotten to know—but barely—melt into a puddle. His breath hitches, and his eyes soften.
He loves her so much.
When Hudson comes beside me to help with the cake, Briar’s eyes search his. “Whatever you’re planning, he won’t let you get away with it. You know Beckett.”
Lifting the cake, he brushes past her. “Walker doesn’t want to marry into the Romano family. We’re here to stop that because Poppy actually gives a flying fuck about him.” He stops walking, keeping his head straight forward, purposely not looking directly at Briar. “You go on and get married, Dove. I won’t be there to save you; don’t worry.”
And then he marches on, and as much as I want to stop and make sure she’s okay, I can’t. Because today, Walker is the only person who matters.
Never mind whatever the hell is going on between Briar and Hudson.
***
Walker
I shouldn’t laugh. It’s not funny. I mean, for fuck’s sake, here I am, under an archway of some smelly flowers that have about thirty bees buzzing around them—which, by the way, I hate bees. They are scary as hell. Tack on, my uncle thinks I’m about to marry Gia, when really, I’m just looking around waiting for Hudson to make his big moment. But even with all of this going on, the image of Poppy, standing behind the biggest wedding cake I have ever seen, in a fucking white jacket and a big, puffy baking hat with some crazy wig under it, will not leave my brain.
Right when I saw her, I burst out laughing, which instantly pissed her off. She scowled, poking her lips out and folding her arms across her chest as she threw a silent hissy fit. It was adorable. So was when she held up her middle finger at me.
She might not have the best etiquette or greatest style. But, goddamn, every part of me loves that girl for who she is.
I guess something doesn’t need to glimmer to be gold. Because rough edges and all, that’s exactly what Poppy Wilson is. Gold.
I’m glad we convinced Beckett that it would be tacky to invite people at the last minute so we should only have our immediate families. Otherwise, Hudson’s plan wouldn’t have worked. Because if he ratted out my uncle and Marco Romano in front of a backyard full of people, he’d probably be killed by a hit man the next day. The Romano family is aggressive when it comes to reputation.
The pastor looks between us, seeming uneasy with the entire thing before he sighs. After rattling off a few words, he pauses.
“Is there anyone here who has reason to believe that Gia and Walker should not be wed?”
He swallows nervously when his eyes land on Beckett’s. I’m sure he didn’t like that the pastor included that part.
“Actually, yeah. Yeah, there is,” Hudson’s deep voice drawls slowly. “These two are barely adults. They don’t know each other, oh, and they aren’t getting married by choice either.” He steps closer, glaring at Beckett. “As a matter of fact, both are in love with other people.”
“Jesus Christ,” Beckett growls through gritted teeth, earning a glare from the dude standing with the Bible in his hands.
“Consider yourself fired, Hercules,” Beckett says to Hudson, venom dripping from each word. “And see yourself out.”
“Nah, think I’ll stay.” He smirks. “My friend here isn’t leaving without cake.” He waves to Poppy, who slowly pops out from behind the cake. “After all, we went through all the trouble of toting the fucking thing here.”
“Motherfucker,” Beckett huffs out, glancing nervously at Marco. “Sorry about this. I’ll get him sorted out. Nothing to worry about.”
“Nah, I don’t think you will though.” Hudson’s voice is deep and calculated. He’s completely unfazed as he holds out his phone to Beckett’s face. “See, Dr. Boobie, I have dirt on you. Loads and loads of dirt. So much that I could bury your ass alive right now if I wanted.”
He turns toward Marco. “And don’t think you’re getting off scot-free, my friend.” He tsks him, grinning. “I have videos of your business receiving pretty large drug shipments. You know, Mr. Romano, I figured you were smarter than that. Turns out, you’re just like this clown.” He jerks his thumb toward my uncle.
“Now, here’s what’s going to happen. This whole insane fucking wedding is called off. Beckett, you’re going to leave your nephew and your niece alone. If that’s what she wants.” He looks at Briar for a moment, seeming almost lost and leaving me really fucking confused before, finally, he looks at me. “I already know this kid wants to sever all ties with you.
“And, Marco, you’re going to let Gia live her life and leave her the fuck alone and keep her out of your twisted little games.” His gaze sweeps over everyone standing around him. “And if you don’t, then you can kiss everything you’ve both worked for good-bye because this is just a drop in the bucket of the shit I have on both of you.”
Marco sighs, rolling his eyes to the sky. “Fine. Gia, let’s go.” Jerking his head toward his wife, he looks less than impressed. “What are you standing around for? Let’s go.”
Reluctantly, she begins to turn, but Hudson’s voice stops her.
“Oh, and, Marco? If Mrs. Romano wants away from you, your ass is going to give her a divorce and a big lump sum of money.” He winks at her. “It’s all in the body language, ma’am. I wouldn’t want to be married to a dick like him either. Even if he is filthy rich.”
“And has good hair,” I add, pointing to Marco’s head.
Hudson nods. “Really good fucking hair. So unlike Dr. Boobie.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious those are hair plugs, Unc.” I wave my hand toward him.
“Oh, yes, and that goes for you too, Natasha. If you want to leave his obnoxious, heavy-breathing ass … you go ahead. He won’t make it hard for you.” Hudson nods toward Beckett. “Right, Boobie Man?”
My uncle has always been a heavy breather, but right now, as pissed off as he is, it’s about ten times louder, making my skin crawl. I never gave it a thought that maybe Natasha was in the same boat as my sister and stuck with him because of his power.
Now, we’re all free.
She gives Hudson a tiny smile. “Thank you, Mr. Bailey.”
Gia’s hand touches my arm. “Go get your girl,” she whispers, grinning at me.
I smile. “You headed home to get your guy?”
“Damn straight.” She hugs me, patting me on the back before moving to Hudson and throwing her arms around him. “Thank you, Hudson. I could never repay you. But I appreciate all you just did so much.”
“It’s all good,” he drawls as she releases him before reaching into his pocket and pulling a card from his wallet. “If your old man tries anything stupid, just give me a call. I’ll straighten it out.”
She giggles, glancing over his shoulder at her father. “Will do.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a girl to get to,” I say, looking at Poppy, who awkwardly stands next to the cake, still in full baker’s gear. And then I run to her because there’s nothing right now that could keep us apart.
Well, other than the fact that in a few months, I’ll be moving across the country.
***
Poppy
Cupping my cheeks, Walker looks highly amused as the corner of his lips turns up in a crooked grin. “Nice hat, Poppyseed,” he utters. “I might have you keep it on for some role-play later. Maybe I can butter your biscuits or something.”
I try my best to keep an unimpressed, annoyed look on my face before rolling my eyes. “That’s not funny.”
“You can cream my Twinkie,” he mutters, keeping his voice low. “Or I can frost your pound cake.”
“I’m about to crush your éclair if you don’t cut it out.” I give him my best look of warning. “Or maybe stomp on your cream puffs.”
“That second one kind of sounds fun.” He winks before tugging on my hat. “Were you planning on, like, baking them to death or what?” he says with a chuckle. “Out of all the disguises, how’d this one become the one you went with?”
My lips form into a flat line before I nod toward Hudson, who is staring Beckett down as he struts away and heads toward the house. “Ask him. He got to be the hot bodyguard, per usual, and I got … this.” I look down at myself. “I wanted to be a Charlie’s Angel or something.”
His expression hardens, his jaw ticcing under his skin. “Did you just call Hudson hot?”
“Uh, no?” I bite my lip. “Well, maybe. But not like … that.” I wave toward him. “He is hot.” I fix my eyes on Walker again, resting my hands on his abdomen. “But you, Mr. James, are hotter.”
“I kind of want to go set him on fire, just so you can’t look at him,” he grumbles. “Now, I’m annoyed.”
I poke my lip out, patting his stomach. “My poor baby. Are your feelings hurt?” I raise a brow. “Need I remind you that I am Betty fucking Crocker right now, and you were just standing up next to a goddamn supermodel-looking creature who had the nerve to hug you?” I shake my head, removing one hand and putting it on my hip. “Yeah, that’s right. I saw.”
“I knew you saw,” he teases. “I could see your eyes bugging out and your face turning red.”
“Well, of course it was red; she’s seen your freaking wiener.” I scoff. “What do you want me to do, cartwheels and clap with excitement? No. I want to punch her in the face and maybe pull her extensions out.”
Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me closer, rocking us slowly. “So feisty, baby. So damn feisty.”
Looking down at me, he kisses my forehead. “Let’s go home, Poppyseed. This has been the longest few days of my life, and I finally feel like I can breathe again.”
Pushing my lips to his, I kiss him. Our lips smack together, but before we can get carried away—which always seems so easy to do—I pull back and smirk. “We can go home. But we’re taking the cake.”