Four Day Fling(20)

“You know you can text her, right?”

“Poppy.”

“Mom.”

Adam glanced at me.

I leaned back in the seat so the letters on my shirt were fully visible.

Mom’s gaze dropped to it. “Must you wear such ridiculous shirts?”

“They’re cool and comfortable.” I folded my arms across my chest. “No, I haven’t seen either of them. If I do, I’ll let them know you’re looking for them.”

She nodded. “Good. I’m off to speak with the wedding planner. There’s an issue with the table plan.”

“Rosie did the table plan.”

“Well, I think the planner messed with it. I have to speak with her.”

The table plan was the one thing my sister refused to allow anyone to have any input in, so that conversation was going to go fucking fabulously.

“Well, all right,” I said wearily.

Mom turned her attention from me to Adam. After a second of silence, she said, “Can I expect to see you for lunch, Adam?”

He wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin and sat up straight. “Absolutely. I’d love to get to know Poppy’s family a little more. You seem like a fascinating bunch.”

Excuse me. I need to go vomit.

Mom’s frustrated expression faltered. “And I can’t wait to hear more about the boyfriend I never knew she had.”

Fuck a duck dead.

“I don’t have to tell you everything, Mom.”

“We haven’t known each other that long,” Adam added before Mom could reply. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could come this weekend due to work obligations, so that’s probably why she never told you. I’m sure she didn’t want to upset you by changing everything at the last minute.”

Damn. He was good.

Almost too good.

As proven by the fact Mom’s eyes briefly narrowed at him before she shook it off. “That makes sense,” she said, lying through the skin of her damn teeth.

You know how I knew that?

She’d been too suspicious before. You just didn’t drop an idea because a hot guy grinned at you.

All right, maybe I did, but my mother didn’t. And the button to my pants was probably way looser than hers was.

Hopefully, anyway.

“So, lunch. I’ll meet you at the beach bar. They serve food there, and I’ll be able to help you with the cocktails,” Mom said, turning to me.

I raised my coffee cup in a toast. “See you then, Mom.” Satan. Whatever.

“Looking forward to it.” Adam shot her the most devastatingly handsome grin I’d ever seen.

Seriously.

All the panties on women within a ten-mile radius?

Poof.

Gone.

Just like that.

Eat your heart out, David Copperfield. I bet you couldn’t do that.

Mom’s cheeks heated, and she actually looked flustered for a second. “Great. Awesome. Fantastic.”

My eyebrows shot up, and she glanced at me before turning and flouncing away.

Adam chuckled.

“Did you just flirt with my mom?” I asked him, putting my cup down with a clang.

He shook his head. “I charmed her.”

“Same difference. The last time she got that flustered was at a Pink Floyd concert, and if my dad didn’t have photographic evidence, I’d swear he was lying.”

“I’m not Pink Floyd.” He laughed. “I figure it doesn’t do any harm to get her to like me.”

“What? Like you’ll still be my boyfriend this time next week?”

“No. But unless you want her to catch you out in your lie…”

I pointed a crispy rasher of bacon at him. “Don’t go there. I don’t want to play that game. I’m already flirting with the stakes as it is.”

“This isn’t poker, Red.”

“No? It may as well be. My sister and future brother-in-law know this relationship is a sham. My mom is virtually Sherlock with a pair of breasts, and the moment my dad questions this? I’m done for. So yes, yes. This is poker. This is Dunn Family Poker, and the only person getting poked in this is me.”

Slowly, his lips curved into the widest, sexiest smile I’d ever seen. “I’m trying to take that as you mean it, but I admit, I’m struggling like fuck.”

What?

I stared at him and then, it dawned.

He was technically poking me, too.

Oh, God.

“I don’t want to have this conversation,” I mumbled, reaching for my coffee cup. “It’s too early for it.”

“No, it was too early to discuss how you could slip on dry land, never mind in the shower.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Are you going to do the cocktails with me or just lunch?”

“I’ll do both.”

“Why? So you can sweeten up my mom?”

“No, because I’m your boyfriend and I should spend the whole weekend with you.” He didn’t move a muscle—his lips didn’t even freakin’ twitch.

“I don’t know how you just said that with a straight face.”

He cough-snorted. “Neither do I, but it’s pretty convincing, huh?”

“If I didn’t know you were more full of shit than a pig farm, sure.”