Page 50 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

Gemma glowed as she’d walked down the aisle to Patrick. The man of her dreams. Seeing the two of them so in love, standing next to the man who’d shattered her own romantic dreams and not hating him...that was something else.

But he was different. Which brought her back to the moment.

“Why aren’t we joining your brother?” Poppy asked.

“Those blokes are so old me,” he said.

“Do you think you’ll fall back into old habits around them?” she asked as she danced around him.

“No. But they might expect me to be someone I’m not.”

“How?”

This was awkward. There was no way he was having this discussion with Poppy. Telling her that he’d earned a reputation for getting high and taking a different woman home every night after she’d left. It had been a coping method, and he wasn’t exactly proud of how he’d behaved. Not that she’d be surprised to learn any of that. He just didn’t want to remind her of the man he’d been.

“Different,” he said. “That’s all past. Why do you want to go over there?”

She shrugged.

“Do you want to?”

“It’s just that they all weren’t great to me when we were married, and I’d like to go over there and be all ‘I’ve met Amber Rapp, and she loved my tea...’ Oh, God. Do you hear me? Could I be any shallower?”

Laughing, he tugged her out of the reception into the quiet hallway. “You aren’t shallow. You’re allowed to be happy you’re successful.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to rub their noses in it.” She laughed too, that perfect, tinkling sound he loved to hear. “Liberty is totally rubbing off on me.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” he said.

She arched her eyebrows at him. “What is it then?”

“Moon of horses power. You’ve thrown off the shackles and stepped into your full power. There’s no stopping you.”

Her eyes sparkled. “That’s right,” she said.

“Poppy.”

They turned as her aunt and uncle walked out of the ballroom. “Just wanted to catch you before we left. We’re heading up to St Andrews in the morning.”

“It was good to see you, Aunt Regina,” Poppy said, going over to hug her aunt. Her aunt and uncle fit right in with Ali’s family. Alistair could see why Gemma liked them. They were an outgoing, athletic couple who’d socialized throughout the ballroom all night.

Poppy had mentioned that Merle and his dad didn’t really have a close relationship, and honestly, Alistair understood why. Seeing Coach, as everyone called him, and knowing Merle as he was coming to, Ali could see that the two men had nothing in common. Not unlike him and his father.

Alistair walked over and shook the other man’s hand. “Nice to have met you.”

“Same. Looking forward to trying some of your beer the next time we are in the UK.”

“You’ll be able to try it at the Bootless Soldier Tavern in a few weeks,” Poppy said. “You are sending some to Owen, right?”

“I have.”

“Good. The next time we visit Merle and Liberty, I’ll try some. We’d better leave, Reg. I want to hit the road at four so we beat the traffic tomorrow morning,” Coach said.

“Tell your mum I said hi when you see her.” Regina hugged Poppy, and the two left.

“It’s so odd that your family is nicer than mine.”

“They just are better behaved. And they aren’t my parents,” she pointed out.

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