Page 49 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

Instead, he felt like Poppy’s boyfriend again.

How did she feel?

The way she kept giving him little smiles when she thought no one was watching them told him she was happy with the meeting at least.

He couldn’t blame her. She’d come to the table and owned it.

God, this woman. How had he never seen her strength? He’d taken for granted that she once bent to his will. It was a miracle she’d lasted the entire six months of their marriage before she left him.

When they left the restaurant, she grabbed his hand, pulling him out to the garden where the wedding would take place later that day. She threw herself into his arms and squeezed him tight.

“That went way better than I expected. George had me worried with all that stuff he kept bringing up.”

Alistair held her loosely, so afraid of fucking this up. Of somehow saying the wrong thing and being pushed back out of her life. “He was trying to help.”

“I got that. You were awesome. Just laying down the law. Aren’t you afraid that he might fire you or cut you off?” she asked, stepping back from him.

“No.” That was one fear he didn’t have, because he no longer worked for Lancaster-Spencer or depended on his inheritance to survive. He’d made some good investments, and his life was simpler now. No more jet-set partying.

“Good. I like that for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. God, it’s a gorgeous day. I never expected... I mean, I hoped for this outcome, and I had Sera and Liberty’s energy with me.”

He wasn’t sure that she needed anyone else’s strength. She was pure steel wrapped in bright pink, curves and soft curls. He lowered his head and took the kiss he could no longer deny himself.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, she held him to her as she deepened the kiss. Her thigh slid between his legs, and he cupped her butt, turning them away from the windows of the hotel and steering them under the shade of a large blooming tree.

“Sorry. That was... Where do we stand on us?” he asked.

“Us?”

He didn’t clarify. There was still Owen’s offer to come and curate his beer for the summer festival at the tavern. Ali wanted to do it. Wanted to keep seeing Poppy and trying to figure out this new dynamic between them.

Still, respecting her boundaries was important to him; he’d regret it if he pushed his way back into her life if it wasn’t what she wanted. But this...felt like something new and worth pursuing, as did the opportunity to work in Birch Lake with Owen.

He had to make it clear to both himself and Poppy that he was doing it for the right reasons. Not simply to worm his way back into her life.

“I guess we could call it a holiday fling,” she said at last. “I mean, I’m going home on Monday.”

He swallowed, taking a deep breath. “Owen offered me a summer job in Birch Lake. I’d like to take it and see you while I’m there. Maybe see if this could be more than a fling.”

Chewing her lower lip, she wrapped one arm around her waist. Her gaze moved over him, and he knew she was sizing him up. Trying to cut the truth from the lies. He let her. He deserved her distrust, her uncertainty. But he was working to change that. After he’d seen her show of strength today, he knew that he had to continue the work to be the man he wanted to be.

“If you did that, it would have to be for you. I can’t guarantee that we’ll ever be more than this,” she said.

“Okay.”

“Hey, I get that’s not what you were hoping to hear. But take it from someone who changed and moved and tried to be a person they weren’t. Relationships like ours will only work if we’re both true to who we are.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

Fourteen

They danced all night at the wedding. The Earl of Winfield and his wife left early. George and Bronte were with a group of their friends, but Alistair hadn’t wanted to join them, though George had motioned for them to come over several times.

The wedding itself had made her misty-eyed. She hadn’t thought she would cry but she had and Ali had handed her a monogrammed handkerchief to dry her eyes.

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