Not the Marrying Kind Read online

  Ashlee placed the bat down and plopped onto the bed. “What would you trade to have Beck back?”

  Good question.

  Poppy had a feeling she’d be pondering it for a long time to come.

  Like forever.

  …

  “Your wife came through for me in a big way.” Lou brandished four business cards under Beck’s nose. “Not only does the crème de la crème of LA and Vegas society think I’m a classy guy for throwing such a loved-up divorce party, I managed to get the phone numbers of four hot babes desperate to comfort me.”

  Beck barely glanced up from his laptop where he went over figures for the final time before they touched down in LA. “Four? Seriously? You could barely handle one woman, and look how that turned out.”

  “After what you’ve just ‘fessed up, I could say the same about you, big guy.” Lou slid the cards in his top pocket and patted it. “At least I wasn’t lame enough to chase my woman all the way to LA—”

  Beck fixed Lou with a death glare that just made him laugh.

  “You think your plan’s foolproof?”

  Jeez, Beck sure hoped so. “I’ve anticipated every scenario, so I’m hoping for a positive outcome.”

  Lou’s laughter gave way to guffaws. “You sound like you’re pitching for a construction deal, not trying to save your marriage.”

  Beck had to compartmentalize this, otherwise he’d go frigging insane.

  It had killed him waiting until morning to follow Poppy, but at least he’d used the time wisely, putting into place contingency plans he hoped would convince her of the truth.

  He couldn’t live without her.

  “There you go again with the goofball look.” Lou pulled a cross-eyed face. “Never would’ve believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Eligible bachelor extraordinaire takes a dive over the divorce diva. That’d make nice headlines.”

  Something shifted in the back of Beck’s mind. Aligned. Clicked into place. “You met with Stan to go over the figures again after I left him on Friday.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you mention Poppy at all?”

  “Not really.” Lou narrowed his eyes, trying to think. “Once we’d been over the figures, Stan was suitably impressed. I was pretty pumped and he started making small talk, so we chatted for a while about general stuff.”

  “Like?”

  “The Lakers. Golf. My divorce party.”

  Beck had a bad feeling, the same kind of feeling that tripped down his spine the day his folks had been discovered dead. “What about the divorce party?”

  “The uptight prick was raving on about morals and the sanctity of marriage and the like, so I told him he didn’t need to worry, the party was in good hands and it’d be elegance all the way.”

  “Did you mention Poppy?”

  “‘Course not.” Lou’s quick look away told him otherwise.

  “What did you say?”

  Lou winced. “I may have let slip that Poppy’s sister was in the party planning business—”

  “You putz. Stan’s a sharp guy. That’s all he would’ve needed to do a little research to discover the truth. My PI found the link easily enough, Stan would’ve too. What were you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t?” Lou offered, a study in bashful apology. “Look, man, I’m sorry, it just slipped out and I didn’t think—”

  “No, you didn’t.” Beck closed his laptop and slid it into its case. “I hope you won’t make the same mistake when we land.”

  “I’ve got this covered.” Lou darted a nervous glance at his briefcase. “Trust me.”

  “Famous last words,” Beck muttered, ignoring the nervous churning in his gut.

  This plan had to work.

  The pitch of his life.

  One deal he wouldn’t consider losing.

  “Make sure you stick to the plan, okay? No improvising. No fuckups. Got it?”

  “It’ll be a cinch.”

  Beck wished he had half Lou’s confidence.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Divorce Diva Daily recommends:

  Playlist: “Someone Like You” by Adele

  Movie: Bridesmaids

  Cocktail: Pussy Cat

  Poppy knew she had to come clean. She’d botched her own life enough; no way would she add to Sara’s woes. Her sister needed to hear the truth about Divorce Diva Daily from her. As for the money, she hoped that prenup was watertight and Sara got the cash she was owed.

  Taking a deep breath, she shook out her arms like a prizefighter about to enter the ring and stuck her head around Sara’s door. “It’s only me.”

  Sara glanced up from her smartphone and smiled, a genuinely wide grin for the first time in months. “Hey, you, come on in.” She spontaneously hugged Poppy, rather than being a limpid recipient, and Poppy’s surprise increased.

  “You look great.”

  “I feel great.” Sara threw her arms wide and spun around, leaving Poppy gobsmacked.

  She hadn’t seen her sister this happy in a year. Great news, considering it should ease the blow when she divulged the truth.

  As Sara gestured her toward the sofa to take a seat, Poppy got a good look at her sister. Freshly washed and blow-dried shiny hair, hint of mascara and lip-gloss, skinny jeans, and her favorite peacock sweater. She looked incredibly healthy and it gave Poppy hope. Maybe Sara had finally shrugged off the past.

  Now if only Poppy could do the same.

  “I have to tell you something and you’re not going to like it.”

  Rather than Sara’s smile disappearing, it widened. “Really? Because nothing can spoil my good mood today.”

  “This will.”

  Scrounging up her courage, Poppy decided blurting it out would work better than dodging the truth in an attempt to soften the blow. “That Divorce Diva Daily website you mentioned when I visited last month? The one you dissed? I’m running it. Thought it’d be a great idea to complement Party Hard, seeing as divorce parties are so hot right now, but then you said you hated it so I’ve been keeping it anonymous, and it’s earned heaps, but it’s time you knew—”

  “Hey, slow down. Take a breath.” Rather than shouting as Poppy had anticipated, Sara was taking the news surprisingly well. “Maybe I was too hasty. I’ve been in a pretty bad place, so anything involving the D-word would’ve probably set me off.”

  Wow, Poppy mouthed, and Sara laughed.

  “You’ve been amazingly supportive, but I think I’m ready to come back to work.”

  “Really? That’s fantastic.”

  “And you know what? The first party I’m going to plan will be my divorce.”

  Poppy squealed and reached across to hug Sara. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Feeling’s entirely mutual.”

  Poppy didn’t understand the cryptic twinkle in her sister’s astute gaze but hey, she wouldn’t question it, not when this had gone way better than anticipated.

  “How’s your hubby?”

  “Good.” The lie instantly tumbled from her lips. Enough blunt truths for one day.

  “When do I get to meet him?”

  Hell.

  “As soon as you’re out of here.” Poppy stood, eager to escape before lightning struck her dead on the spot. “Gotta dash. Loads to do.”

  “Thanks for stopping by.” Sara hugged her again but this time she held on longer than normal. “I’m so happy for you.”

  Great, not telling the truth about the disastrous ending to her marriage with Beck had given her sister another false impression she’d have to tear down at a later date.

  Forcing a bright smile, Poppy waved and made a swift exit, completely baffled by her sister’s knowing chuckles following her out the door.

  …

  Beck paced the outer office of Party Hard, swiping at stray streamers and glaring at rogue balloons.

  With its bright and bouncy theme, from purple 21st birthday balloons to “happy retirement” banners edged in gold, the place’s perkiness was enou
gh to give a guy a headache.

  He didn’t go for frills. He liked no-nonsense, upfront, in-your-face honesty.

  Which was why he hoped Poppy welcomed him when she found him here. Because he had a dose of honesty she had to hear.

  Beck wrinkled his nose at an offending Halloween witch mask dangling in front of his face, swiping it out of the way when the door opened with an annoying bell tinkle.

  The hairs on the nape of his neck snapped to attention as the soft summer breeze brought her scent in before she entered. Light. Floral. Delicious. He turned slowly, his gut a bunch of nerves. She breezed in, a vision in a red and white gingham summer dress, held up by the flimsiest spaghetti straps begging to be tugged down.

  His gaze automatically dipped to her shoes out of habit and he wasn’t disappointed. Crimson. Shiny. Towering.

  A smile played about his lips as he stepped forward into her line of vision.

  She stopped. Paled. Bit her lower lip. “Hey.”

  The vulnerability of a moment ago disappeared as she marched toward him, her expression hardening with every step. “You’re wasting your time. And mine.” She pointed to a stack of paperwork on a minimalist desk. “I’ve got work to do.”

  “This won’t take long.” He broached the distance between them in three short strides, hauled her into his arms, and kissed her.

  Correction: ravaged her.

  He plundered her mouth, desperate to taste her. It wasn’t enough. He wanted all of her, naked, warm, and willing, but for now this would suffice.

  Her momentary resistance shattered on a groan as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself to him. Soft, warm curves beneath his hands. Firm, demanding lips beneath his. She was fire and sass and he couldn’t get enough.

  His Poppy.

  He backed her up a little and when her butt hit the desk her leg snaked around his waist, bringing him in tantalizing contact to where he craved to be. Blood thundered in his ears, drowning out all rational thought. He had to have her. Now.

  Then she shifted a fraction, breaking off the kiss to gulp in air, and a few seconds was all it took for reality to set in.

  This wouldn’t win him back his wife.

  He eased away and dragged a hand through his hair, perturbed by the power she had over him. She took turned on to a whole new level.

  “We need to talk.”

  “That old line?” Her mouth made a cute scoff. “Surely you can come up with better material than that to end our marriage.”

  “I don’t want to end it.”

  That shocked her into momentary silence, before her mask of deliberate distance slid into place. “Too bad, because I do.”

  “Bull.”

  She crowded him and he took a step back, needing distance to marshal his thoughts.

  “Take away the stupid deal we made and we’re good together. You know it. I know it.”

  A spark of acknowledgment lit her eyes before she deliberately blinked. “That’s just sex. Don’t let it cloud your judgment.”

  “Stop doing that. Belittling what we have.”

  “Had,” she corrected, her stare defiant. “This was wrong from the beginning.” She waved her hand between them. “You and me? A high-stakes gamble that failed, so let’s cut our losses and run.”

  “You think you can get rid of me that easily?”

  “Yeah, it’s what you do best, isn’t it? Run from your past?”

  A cheap shot and one she regretted by her blush. Not that he could blame her for saying it. He had run. Not anymore.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” He held his hands out to her, palms up, no tricks up his sleeves. “Not running away, not hiding behind excuses. I’m here because I love you and want to make things right between us.”

  Her eyes widened at the L-word and her lower lip wobbled a tad before she clamped it tight and shook her head. “Just go.”

  Seriously rattled by her resolute stubbornness to not entertain the thought of reconciliation, he slid his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out the folded document he hoped would convince her how he felt.

  She glanced at it, curiosity raising one eyebrow, before she eyeballed him. “What do you want me to say? That I acted like a crazy person that night at the party? Fine. I did. And I’m sorry. But you showing up here and saying you love me doesn’t change facts.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because…because…” She ended on a half-sob, half-hiccup, before swallowing. “Because I don’t trust you.”

  “Don’t or can’t?” It killed him, having her doubt him. He tipped up her chin with a fingertip so she had to look at him. “There’s a big difference.”

  She swatted him away. “Stop confusing me.”

  “Confusion is good.” He felt the first stirrings of hope. If she was unraveling before his eyes, it meant she did care a hell of a lot more than she was letting on. “Confusion means you’re as perplexed as I am over the speed and intensity with which we fell in love.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  Unable to resist, he ducked down and murmured in her ear, “Love, love, love. I. Love. You.”

  “Damn you.” She pummeled his chest and tried to shove him away, but he captured her hands and tugged her close, enveloping her into his arms in a crushing hug that left them both breathless.

  He let her cry, battling the monstrous lump of emotion wedged in his throat. He smoothed her back, her hair, whispered soft endearments until her sobs petered out. Only then did he ease back, his heart stalling at the utter bleakness in her eyes.

  “I’m not a good relationship person,” she murmured, clutching at his jacket lapels like she’d never let go.

  He wished.

  “I could handle us when we had an end date in mind and it was all about the sex, but then we had to go and complicate it with stupid emotions and it all got too hard and I said those horrible things to you and—”

  “Ssh…” He placed a finger against her lips. “Do you love me?”

  He held his breath, waiting for a response. What seemed like an eternity later, she nodded and all the air whooshed out of his lungs. “Then we can work out the rest.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, as if in pain. “What if love’s not enough?”

  “It’ll have to be.”

  Her eyelids snapped open to pin him with a doubting glare. “Every relationship I’ve ever known has been dysfunctional. My folks loved each other, too damn much, and at the expense of their kids. My sis loved her hubby and that didn’t stop their relationship from imploding. Hell, even Ashlee just broke up with her fiancé. I don’t trust love.”

  He cupped her face with his hands. “Do you trust me?”

  “I–I–don’t know.”

  He didn’t release her, leaving her nowhere to look but at him. “I didn’t leak your identity to Stan. Lou did that accidentally. I’d never betray you like that.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tears filled her eyes again.

  “Hey, I’m scared, too. Love sucked until I met you.” His gaze landed on the piece of paper that had fallen from his fingers and tumbled onto her desk. “But you changed everything for me. How I view myself. How I handle emotions. And if you don’t believe me, maybe this’ll convince you.”

  He handed her the document, waited impatiently as she unfolded it and read.

  Her mouth opened and closed before she finally stared at him in wide-eyed shock. “Is this—it can’t be—”

  “It is. Equal partnership in Divorce Diva Daily. Whatever financial backing Sara needs, she has it. Lou already approached your sister and she’s all for it.”

  That sneak Sara. So that explained her smirk when she’d told her the truth.

  “But what about your deal—”

  “I told Stan the deal’s off.”

  This time her mouth dropped open and stayed that way.

  “I’ve spent my life busting my balls trying to prove to everyone what a big guy I was. Rich. Powerful. Holding all the cards. I wanted to lor
d it over those people from my past who thought I was worth less than the dirt on my shoes. But you know something?” He tapped his chest. “What you made me feel in here? That’s all the recognition I need.”

  To his shock his eyes misted over and he blinked. “You made me feel, Poppy. You. With your exuberance and smiles and love. And I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you know how much I love you back.”

  This time when she burst into tears, he didn’t hug her.

  He kissed her until she smiled against his mouth.

  Good.

  Because he intended on making her smile for the rest of her life.

  Acknowledgments

  Some stories are sprinkled with fairy dust and this was one of them.

  I’d like to thank my incredible editor, Libby Murphy, for seeing the potential in this story when the idea first shimmered into being. I’m sure her enthusiasm helped fire me to write it in less than three weeks. Kudos Libby!

  Thanks to the dynamic team at Entangled Publishing for consistently producing fabulous books.

  Huge cyber hugs for my writing buddies Natalie Anderson and Soraya Lane. I live for our daily chats!

  For my much-loved Nan, who passed away unexpectedly during the edits of this story. Nan, your stories inspired me and your pride in my work always made me smile. You were my number one fan and I miss you more than words can ever express. Love you forever.

  Last but not least, the three wonderful guys I live with. You are my world.

  About the Author

  USA TODAY bestselling author Nicola Marsh writes flirty fiction with flair.

  She’s had 31 books published with Harlequin Romance and Presents series, a fun, flirty contemporary mainstream romance BUSTED IN BOLLYWOOD with Entangled Publishing (nominated for Romantic Book of the Year 2012) and sold over 3 million copies worldwide.

  Her urban fantasy young adult novel SCION OF THE SUN releases November 2013 with Month9Books.

  She’s also a Waldenbooks and Bookscan bestseller, has finaled in a number of awards, including the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, HOLT, Booksellers’ Best, Golden Quill, Laurel Wreath, More than Magic and has won several CataRomance Reviewers’ Choice Awards.