Four Day Fling(50)

“Carry on about the wedding police.” I grabbed my water bottle and uncapped it. “Are you hiding?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “And you’re not stealing my shirt.”

“We’ll see.” I grinned. “This is probably one of the first places she’ll come. She’ll ask me if I’ve seen you.”

A tiny snore came from Grandpa, and we all looked over in time to see him jerk awake. “Don’t let the scoundrels get away, girls.”

“You got it, Grandpa,” I said.

Adam’s face was buried in my thigh, and he was laughing hard.

Voices were outside the room, and Rosie’s eyes opened wide. “They’re here!”

“Under the table!” Avery hissed, lifting the cloth. Rosie darted under there and Avery dropped it just in time as the door opened.

“Can you pass more holders?” I said to Avery.

“Sure.” She slid the box closer to me.

“There you are, Poppy,” Mom said, walking into the room with the stuck-up planner on her heels.

I frowned at her. “You put us here with Grandpa and told me not to move until all the place settings were done. Where else would I be?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m surprised you’re here.”

Save me, God.

“Is he sleeping?” The planner asked.

“Yes,” Avery said. “Old age. It even gets to the ones who think they’re twenty-one.”

If that wasn’t the most accurate description of Grandpa…

“Bloody Mary?”

“Aunt Blythe was here earlier looking for Dad,” I improvised. “Left her glass. You know she’s…” I mimed drinking and clicked my tongue.

Mom sighed. “This family feels like a meeting of alcoholics sometimes.”

Truth.

“Have you seen your sister? There are last minute things for her to handle before she gets ready.” Mom clasped her hands together in front of her stomach. “Anyone?”

Avery shook her head. “I haven’t. Sorry.”

“Adam?”

“I’ve been in the gym until you said to come here.” He shrugged.

“Poppy?”

“When would I have seen her? I had breakfast, went up with Avery so she could change, then we found you.” I finished another place setting. “But if it’s about the damn seating plan, she’ll kill you if you change that again. And she texted me this morning that the bouquets arrive at, crap, when was it?”

Three taps on my calf gave me the answer.

“Three,” I said. “Pretty sure. The concierge is expecting the delivery to his desk.”

That much I knew from the info she’d given me.

“If I see her, I’ll tell her you’re looking for her, though.” I smiled at Mom and picked up another card. “Can we get on with this now?”

She sighed. “I suppose. We’ll see the concierge now. Make sure you call if you see Rosie.”

Crossing my fingers, I said, “Promise.”

She nodded and left the room with the planner.

The door clicked shut, and we all breathed a sigh of relief. Jesus, that was like a fucking interrogation. No wonder Rosie was done with them.

She crawled out from under the table after a minute. “Is it safe?”

I nodded. “Come out.”

“You can have my shirt as thanks,” she laughed.

“I was having it anyway,” I replied, grinning. “There. Done. Bought you some time. Although, right now, you’re probably better staying here and helping us.”

“Yeah, I’m useless at this,” Adam said, dropping the stand.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed it. “You just sit there and look pretty,” I said patting his head.

“I’ll help. It’s better than going crazy in the room by myself. The girls are all getting their nails done, but I already did that yesterday, so…” Rosie sighed. “Oh, these are cute.”

“Shame they didn’t come pre-made,” I said.

We all lapsed into silence. Grandpa’s intermittent snores was the only sound as we continued on making the place settings. Adam’s hand trailed up and down the lower part of my leg, his thumb circling my ankle every time it came back.

Rosie side-eyed us before sharing a glance with Avery. I ignored them. I knew they were trying to rile me up, but whatever, I wasn’t biting.

“Attack! The Armada is coming!” Grandpa snorted, jerking. “Shoot the bastards,” he muttered, snoring one final time before lapsing into silence again.

We all shared a look before bursting into laughter, all of us trying to keep quiet so we didn’t wake him.

Jesus.

You could always count on Grandpa.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN – POPPY


Pizza and Pizazz



“How long do we have?” Adam asked, linking his fingers through mine and dragging me through the hotel.

I could barely keep up—I was basically jogging behind him.

“Uh—thirty minutes,” I replied. “Then I have to go and get ready. No arguments.”

“None will happen. I told you I’d steal you before you had to get ready.”