Page 99 of Poppy Kisses
Hassie didn’t look impressed, but she smiled and gushed about Auggie’s skills.
“It’s fun, and I think the community needed something local so kids didn’t have to travel and then feel like a stranger on another community’s team.”
“Look at you three,” Mom gushed, but she wasn’t indicating Auggie. Her gaze was on where Poppy was kicking with the goalie. She wasn’t ruthless, but she wasn’t taking it easy on the teen goalie. “Giving back to the town you grew up in. It’s really something. I remember the kids who used to argue but then complain when they had to leave the playground.”
Hassie gave her an indulgent smile, but she didn’t appear to be thrilled about giving back to the community she was raised in. “Well, I can’t speak for Poppy, but for me and Jensen, it’s definitely our pleasure.”
Subtle. “I think Poppy feels the same. Hey, Mom, can Auggie stay with you this weekend?”
“Oh.” Surprise lifted Mom’s brows. “The wedding, yes.”
“If it’s not real,” Hassie asked, not bothering to keep her voice down, “then why do you need the whole weekend?”
Mom frowned. “It’s definitely fine to have Auggie over. It’s not a problem of space. He can take the couch. We’ll make it a campout.”
“Sure, sure.” Hassie’s lips were in a troubled line. “But isn’t it fake?”
It was supposed to be. When did I think about how the wedding tomorrow felt more right than my first one? None of that was Hassie’s business. Our shared interest was our son. That was it. “We thought it’d look more real to have the weekend off. She’s been telling people that we’re not having a honeymoon because she’s launching her center and she just moved. It’s my busy season. But her aunt might think it’s weird that we’re not taking at least one night for ourselves, much less the weekend.”
The furrow across Hassie’s brow deepened.
Mom nodded. “Of course. Like I said, space isn’t an issue. Hassie can keep the guest room. I might even go find a small tent for Auggie. Make it exciting.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
The group of older girls were chatting and laughing as they strolled toward the parking lot. Poppy was helping Aspen haul the ball bags.
“I’ll be right back.” I ditched Mom and Hassie and sprinted toward the others.
Poppy’s sunglasses hid her eyes, but she smiled. “My knight in shining Under Armour.” She handed her bag over but walked with us. I took the bag from Aspen too.
Aspen loaded the balls and shut the hatch. “Well, see you on your big day, then.”
“I can’t wait.” Poppy reached for my hand.
I grasped her warm fingers. This was for show, but I wasn’t missing my chance.
Aspen squealed. “Me either. I’ve been to so many weddings, you’d think I’d be sick of them, but I love it.”
When she pulled away, I kept hold of Poppy’s hand. Just a little longer. She clung to me back, and we shared a smile. Then I released her, and we started for the little group waiting for us.
Hassie’s frown hadn’t vanished as she watched us. Maybe it was a good thing Poppy and I were pretending to pretend for a little longer. No one needed a riled-up Hassie right before all of Poppy’s family came to town.
She wouldn’t do anything though…right? I couldn’t imagine that she would. But the look on her face sparked some anxiety.
“Dad! Shoot on me. Grandma wants to watch.” Auggie kicked his ball toward me. It went wide, but Poppy stopped it, jumped, and kicked it toward me.
Just for fun, I kicked it back. She put her foot on the top, jumped to the side, and punted it back with her other foot.
Auggie’s laughter rang in the air, and he sprinted for the goal. I dribbled the ball until I was in front of the goal. Poppy posted at the corner to be a ball shagger. Auggie shuffled back and forth. I booted the ball, using only a fraction of my power. He stopped it and sent it back.
I kicked again and again. Auggie either hit my shots out of the net, caught it, or Poppy retrieved it and sent it back to me. Our laughter rang across the pitch. Mom would clap each time Auggie blocked a shot. Hassie studied us, an unimpressed expression on her face. As for me, it was amazing not to be driven to impress her.
Mom looked at her watch. “I hate to be Cinderella, but tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
“’S all right,” I said and softly tapped the ball to Auggie. He stopped it with the bottom of his foot, then practiced switching feet, jumping lightly as he switched back and forth. “It’s getting to be Auggie’s bedtime.”
“It’s not that late,” he argued.
