Mom sighed. “You really didn’t know who he was?” She motioned to Adam. “Even I knew who he was when I saw him.”
“When have you ever seen me watch sports?”
“You were awfully interested in baseball as a teenager.”
“Yes. They wear tight pants. Every teenage girl is interested in baseball, and it’s not for the sport.” I rolled my eyes and took a sip from the drink.
I didn’t know if it was the gin, the rhubarb, or the ginger, but this drink needed to die in a fucking house fire.
“Eh! Ack! Oh no!” I sputtered and put the drink on the table, wincing as a shiver took hold of my entire body. “Oh no. Make it go away.”
Adam burst out laughing, while Mom simply sighed at my theatrics.
“Poppy, it cannot be that bad,” she said, picking up her glass and bringing it to her face. She swilled it in the glass, sniffing it.
Good lord. It was a cocktail, not a vintage wine.
Mom took a sip. Instantly, her face contorted into the picture of absolute disgust, and when she set the glass down, I swear, she almost looked mildly offended that she’d dared put it in her mouth.
“Oh, dear Lord,” she gasped.
Adam shrugged and looked at his glass. “I like it.”
“You’re outvoted,” I quickly said as Mom waved her hand for the bartender.
Oh no.
My eyes widened, and Adam’s foot nudged mine under the table. Our eyes met for a brief second, and he raised his eyebrows.
No bartender came.
Mom took a deep breath and grabbed all three glasses with some extreme skill.
All right, not extreme, but a move so slick I’d drop it them all if I tried.
“What is she doing?” Adam whispered, leaning over to me and resting his arm on my chair, his eyes on my mom taking the drinks to the bar.
I turned, peering over at her. “Well, if I know her, and I do—”
“I would hope so.”
I shot him a quick glare. “She’s about to tear one of those poor guys a new asshole for daring to serve her something so vile.”
“But…the cocktails were requested.”
“Yeah,” I said, meeting his eyes. “That doesn’t mean she’ll be reasonable about it. Have you learned nothing since you got here?”
“Well, between the fact you didn’t know who I was, your sister’s issue with the seating plan, and now your mom with the cocktails… I think I’m getting there, actually. I’m seeing unreasonable as a female family trait.”
I blinked at him. “If your face wasn’t so pretty, I’d punch you in it.”
He grinned, twirling some of my hair around his finger. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“Are you sure? I’m pretty good with my right hand.”
One of his eyebrows quirked up. “I know.”
“That’s not—I didn’t. I mean.” I took a deep breath and glared at him. “Stop fucking with me.”
“I could, but I know you’ll fuck with me the second you get, so…”
Mom came back seconds later and took her seat. “They won’t serve that again,” she noted. “Pink lemonade margaritas next.”
Well, that sounded better than the gin shit we’d been given, that was for sure.
Mom refolded her napkin and set it back on her lap before smiling at us both. “So, talk me through your relationship. I’m surprised you never told me about him, Poppy.”
We’d already covered this.
“Like Adam said before, him being here was last minute. I didn’t want to tell you that I was seeing anyone. We were keeping it to ourselves.”
“Media attention and stuff like that,” Adam interjected. “I’m followed occasionally, and these past few months have been bad with the sports tabloids while I was in new contract negotiations.”
I stayed quiet. So far, so good. I hoped.
“I hoped they’d leave me alone after the team announced I’d signed another, but they saw me having dinner with my sister a couple weeks later and spun a story about a ‘mystery girl.’” He snorted. “After that, I was the one who said to keep it quiet to protect Poppy.”
He was good.
He was very good.
Even if the story was a little dicey—I mean, what if he’d been seen with real mystery girls? What if my parents knew that?
Right at that point, our next round of cocktails arrived, distracting Mom from responding. She narrowed her eyes and as she asked him a question, Adam nudged me under the table and winked at me.
He was a hell of a lot more confident that I felt. Even now.
CHAPTER TEN – ADAM
Lust and Lies
Poppy bit the inside of her lip and glanced down.
She was worried. I got it. I was fucking worried, too. I was the one sitting here, opposite the sharpest woman I’d ever met, lying through my damn teeth.
I didn’t even have a plan. I was making it up as I went along, praying like fuck it was a plausible story. One of my teammates had kept his relationship secret for that exact reason a couple of years ago.
I didn’t care if she thought I was lying. I just wanted her to believe Poppy was being honest.
She wasn’t, but that was beside the point. We’d been sitting here for all of ten minutes and I understood entirely why Poppy needed a fake date.
Why I’d agreed to be it… The jury was still out. It’d been an impulse, something to fill a free weekend.
Or maybe it’d been those fucking beautiful brown eyes of hers. Maybe even the adorably shy smile her lips curved into whenever our eyes met.
Whatever it was, I’d agreed, and I hadn’t been prepared for it at all. Neither of us had.
And I got the impression that she still didn’t forgive me for not telling her who I was.
“Pink lemonade margaritas with sugar,” the guy said as he set three glasses down in front of us.
“This place is completely private, isn’t it?” I double-checked with the bartender.
He blinked, recognition flashing in his eyes. He gave me a brisk nod. “Yes, sir. Anyone caught trespassing is detained by security until the police arrive.”
“Good. Thank you.”
He nodded again. “Your food should be out soon.”
“Thank you,” Poppy’s mom said, dismissing him.
She was efficient at that. I needed some fucking tips at getting rid of people on occasion…
“Are you worried about your privacy?” she asked, turning her sharp gaze on me.
“It just occurred to me that there are an awful lot of people here who know who I am,” I said slowly. “And all it takes is one social media post, and we could have a problem.”
“What? Your teammates will see photos of you drinking pink cocktails?” Poppy smirked. “Oh, the shame.”
I would be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. “That’ll be the least of my worries if they bring their long-lens cameras and your ass is plastered all over the internets.”
She paused, then shrugged. “I squat for this ass.”
“Poppy!” Her mom pressed her hand to her chest. “My goodness!”
“It’s true! And unless your name is Chris Hemsworth, my ass is all I’m gonna squat for.”
I made a mental note to change my name… Or buy a cardboard mask of his face, just to see if she’d make good on that promise.
Her mom cut her a dark look then turned to me, a hint of compassion in her eyes. “I can ask security to keep an extra eye out, if you’d like.”
“I don’t want a big deal made out of it, but I’d hate Rosie’s wedding to be ruined because of a few nosey bastards.”
She nodded sharply. “Let me see the bartender and see if I can call the manager and ask him to come down.” She picked up the margarita and sipped. “This is good. I like it.” She took another big mouthful and got up, leaving the glass almost a third empty on the table.
Poppy looked at the glass, back at her mom’s retreating back, then to me. “You said that on purpose, didn’t you? To get rid of her.”
I picked up the margarita glass. “What makes you say that?”
“Because she’s gone,” she said matter-of-factly, her gaze just as calculating as her mom’s had been.
She said her mom had the eyes of a hawk, but she had them, too. And the biggest problem with Poppy Dunn was that she didn’t miss a damn thing.
“Maybe it was to give us a break from interrogation,” I admitted, “But after I said what I did…” I put the glass down without touching it and ran my hand down my face.