Page 51 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

“Speaking of which, are you sure I’m invited to dinner tomorrow?”

“Uh-huh,” she said. But it didn’t really sound definitive.

“That’s not a yes.”

“Well, Mum is still not happy with you, and my dad apparently cut his walking trip short to get back for dinner,” she said. “I have a feeling it’s going to be tense. But I’d like for you to come with me. I think they will be open to seeing you this time.”

He hoped so. He didn’t blame her parents for not liking him. He’d been everything he’d been taught to be around them. He’d sucked up to her dad and talked about hiking the Camino Real in Spain, which he’d done with some school chums one summer. He’d asked about her mum’s garden, which was one of the best he’d ever seen. They were nice, honest people. But he’d always been superficial with them, asking questions because he’d been raised to be polite and not because he was actually interested in getting to know them better.

Which, given how perceptive Poppy was...he had to guess her parents had seen through him as well. It was probably why they didn’t like him—well, that and the fact that he hadn’t made their daughter as happy as she deserved to be.

“Will your siblings be there?” he asked. Poppy had an older brother, Barnaby, and a younger sister, Mae.

“Mae’s at uni, so no. I doubt that Barn will drive down from Oxford, so probably not.”

“Good. I don’t think I could handle the full Kitchener family grilling me,” he said. “Maybe you can show me a moon ritual that will give me strength to get through it.”

She laughed and took his hand, leading him out into the garden of the hotel. The sky was clear, and the full moon was big and bright above them.

“Tip your head back and look up at the moon,” Poppy said.

He watched her instead of looking up at the moon.

“Songs of the wood, words of the fae, guide me and show me the way,” she said. Then she opened her eyes to find him staring at her. “Ali.”

“I’ve found my magic in you. I’m letting you show me the way.”

“I can show you, but you have to walk it yourself,” she said softly.

Words that he’d heard from this therapist more than once. Walking the walk was something that should be second nature to him, but he still struggled with it. “How?”

“Look up at the moon with intention. What do you want?”

He started to talk, and she put her fingers over his lips.

“Don’t tell me, tell the moon.”

Tipping his head back, he closed his eyes, breathing in the heady scent of summer and the woman standing next to him. Whatdidhe want?

The answer to that had somehow always eluded him until this moment, with this woman. He wanted to figure out a way to find his way back to her. Back to the girl who’d loved him and made him feel like anything was possible.

That girl was gone, trampled beneath the feet of his ambition. But a part of his soul hoped to find new love with the wiser woman she’d become.

Sunday dinner with her parents was really happening. When she’d invited Alistair to join them, honestly, she hadn’t really considered what it would be like. Her flight back to Maine was in the morning, and she was staying the night at her parents’ house. Ali arranged for her luggage to be sent to the airport and checked in early. So all she had with her was her trusty backpack as they pulled up to the house on his Ducati.

It was a semi-detached home in a nice neighborhood. Poppy had grown up in the house and had gone to the school that Alistair had driven them by once they left the motorway. Driving through the town stirred memories of her girlhood, when all she wanted was to be something more than a regular girl from this medium-size town.

Marrying Alistair had done that. Her wedding had been covered in the papers and had even gotten a small mention on ITV news. But that had had nothing to do with Poppy. That had all been Alistair and the spotlight that followed him around.

WiCKed Sisters fulfilled that desire to be more. To find the thing she was good at. Most people wouldn’t recognize her on the street, but that wasn’t why she wanted to be more. She’d wanted it for herself.

After all they’d experienced together—the Tor, their lovemaking under the moon, the meeting with his family—she’d been too much in her feels to know what to say to Ali. Today, after dinner, he’d be gone.

It was bittersweet. To finally again see the man she’d had fun with before they were married. She’d liked it. Too much? The jury was still out on that.

Her mom was at the door as Alistair turned off the bike. Poppy hopped off, then took off her helmet before hugging her mum.

“Dad’s not happy he’s here,” Mum whispered in her ear.

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