Four Day Fling

“Fake dating.”

“Same difference.”

“If I’m fake-dating you, I should probably know what you’ve won. You know, so I don’t look like a freaking moron if anyone asks me,” I finished dryly.

Adam sighed. “Boy, I’m really never living that down, am I? You weren’t kidding there, Red.”

“I never lie. I’m incapable of it. Unless you’re my mother.”

“This entire weekend is a lie.”

I paused. “Look, if you’re gonna be technical about things, this relationship just isn’t gonna work, hockey boy.”

“Really? That’s what you’re gonna call me? Hockey boy?”

“You call me red because my name is Poppy, and my hair is red. Both lame reasons.”

He sat up and held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I won the Dave Tyler Junior Player of the Year Award when I was seventeen, and since going pro with the Storms, I’ve won the Stanley Cup three times.”

I stared dumbly at him. “See, I thought that would help, but…no.”

“You don’t even know what the Stanley Cup is?”

“Aside from the fact my disinterest in sport is already firmly established…Do I look like the kind of girl who follows hockey?”

He turned and looked at me. From head to toe, his gaze took in every inch of my body, and I did my best not to react like it was bothering me.

Because it was. His gaze was too slow and too careful to not bother me.

“No, you don’t. Not at all.”

I swallowed and dropped my gaze for a second. “Right, so explain these awards and cups and things to me. Before someone mentions it and I—”

“Look like an idiot. Yeah, I know.” His lips curved to one side and he reached out, gently pushing hair from my face. “The Dave Tyler Junior award is given to the best American-born player in Junior Hockey. I quit after that so I could focus on college.”

“And the Stanley Cup?”

“The top prize in the national league. The one everyone wants to win.”

“And you’ve done it three times?”

“In six years.”

“Wow. Even I know that’s impressive.” I smacked my lips together. “Do you think that’s enough get-to-know-you for one night?”

“Depends. What do we do now?”

I pulled my phone from my clutch and glanced at the time. Ten-thirty. “I have to be up early. I have to taste-test cocktails and pick three to be served at the wedding, and I’m doing that at lunch, so…” I closed my clutch back up, securing it with the clasp.

“So…” Adam muttered, reaching over to me. His hand slid into my curls and he cupped the back of my head.

“So.” My breath hitched because I knew exactly what was going to happen.

The King of Kissing was about to kiss me.

And he did. His lips covered mine, and shivers ran down my spine at the exact same moment. I lifted one hand to the side of his neck and slowly fell back so I was lying flat on the sand.

Adam flicked his tongue against the seam of my lips. He leaned his upper body right over me, kissing me deeper as I parted my lip. His tongue toyed with mine, and sparks of lust shot right between my legs.

I just wanted him to carry on. I wanted to stay in this little bubble on the beach, with his hand in my hair and his lips on mine. With this other hand traveling down my body and over the curve of my hip as mine both cupped his neck.

He tasted of whiskey and coke, and he smelled like my next big mistake.

His fingers dug into my ass as the kiss deepened even further—hotter, more desperate, more needy.

“Oh, my goodness!”

I jerked away from Adam at the sound of my mother’s voice.

Of course.

Of. Fucking. Course.

This was the story of my life, wasn’t it?

I looked up to see Mom looking at us. “Um. Hi, Mom?”

“I was—never mind!” she turned on her heel and walked back to the hotel as quickly as she could, barely even stopping to make sure the heels of her Jimmy Choos didn’t sink into the grass if she missed one of the stones that made up the path between the hotel and the beach.

“That was awkward,” I muttered, rolling away from Adam.

“You think it’s awkward for you? My cock is trying to escape my pants. That’s awkward.” He sat up and looked at me. “Ah. Yeah. You have a little…” He scratched at the side of his mouth.

I wiped the side of my mouth and pulled away some smudged lipstick. “Did I get it?”

He nodded. “Come on. It’ll all be off soon enough anyway.” He helped me up from the sand, grabbed my shoes, and laced his fingers through mine.

I knew exactly where this was going. And I wasn’t even mad.

CHAPTER SIX – POPPY

Cocktales and Cocktails

Adam tapped the card against the sensor. It beeped bright green, and he pushed the door open. His hand was still firmly linked through mine, and he pulled me inside. My body was against his and our lips were together before the door had even clicked shut.