Page 209 of Pucking Sweet

She breaks the silence. “Well, it looks like the ball is in your court, Poppy. You know what I want. I want to get through this wedding without any more obscene outbursts from you. I want you present and smiling and holding your flowers like a dutiful sister. You do that, and maybe we’ll talk about Nana’s money.”

“I want to bring them,” I say before she can hang up.

“Not possible.”

“Mom, I am bringing my partners to my sister’s wedding. Just this once, I’ll tell everyone they’re my colleagues. But you will say yes to them coming, or I will announce my pregnancy on a table at the rehearsal dinner. You can keep Nana’s money. Set it on fire for all care.”

I’m bluffing, and we both know it. But that money is about so much more than the dollar value. It’s about the legacy of a life lived, a life I cherished. It’s about knowing best what my Nana would’ve wanted for me. More than anything, she wanted me to be happy. She wouldneverhave kept this money from me.

“Fine. Bring them,” she says. “But if you embarrass me, you know what I’ll be forced to do.”

“Mom, I have to go,” I say, feeling broken and so very tired.

“I have to go too.”

As I hang up, I hear the sounds of Lukas and Colton returning from the store. I wipe under my eyes, praying they don’t look red and puffy as I hear them climbing the stairs.

“Babe? We’re home!”

“In here,” I call out.

“We gotta go in like an hour,” Lukas calls up the stairs. “We have that turtle thing tonight. You still wanna go, right?”

“Yeah,” I call back, checking the time. Shoot, I have to get ready.

Lukas pops his head in the room, holding out a fresh bag of salted, shelled pistachios. I’ve been craving them like crazy. Colton is behind him, offering me a cold bottle of lemon iced tea.

“What happened?” says Lukas, his smile falling.

At his shoulder, Colton looks stricken.

I force a smile. “You’re both invited to a wedding.”

77

“Wait, you told Ryan about us? Lukas—” I grab his arm before he can step under the bright lights of the beachside supper club.

For once, I get to attend a gala I’m not hosting. This is all the work of Mars and Tess and their little turtle team at Out of the Net. Colton is already inside. He got roped into helping Ryan with setup. Lukas and I are unfashionably late because I wasted a good forty minutes trying on every dress I own, praying one would properly conceal the bump. I ended up picking a flouncy lilac number with a full tulle skirt.

Lukas turns, devastating me in his dark blue suit. “You said we were done hiding.” His eyes flash with anger and frustration.

I know it’s not directed at me. I told them about the phone call with my mom, and they’ve been in a rage ever since. Colton thinks we should go “no contact” with my entire family. Lukas wants us to go to the wedding, but only so we can “fuck on the altar like fucking rabbits.”

I don’t feel ready to pursue either of those options. “I’m not saying we can’t tell anyone,” I assure him for the tenth time. “I’m just saying we don’t go full blast ‘this is us’ and make it front page news untilafterthe wedding. Come on, that’s only, like, two months away.”

He groans.

“I know, if I can just deal with this in person, I can fix it,” I go on, my PR brain in hyperdrive. “I can smooth it over, manage it. Daddy is reasonable. I’ll talk to him. You two can talk to him too, show him how great you are—”

“Hey, if you inheriting your Nana’s money is hinging on me making a good impression with your fucking parents, then you can just light it on fire now.”

I step back. “So, you’re not even willing to try?”

“Oh, I’ll try,” he replies. “But this is what they’re gonna get,” he adds, gesturing down at himself. “I’m a know-nothing hockey player from Thunder Bay with a juvie record, too many tattoos, and a swearing problem. I can’t talk about racehorses or stock portfolios or whatever else the fuck it is that your people are into. And I’m telling you right now, your mom is just gonna use this as an excuse to try to drive a wedge between us.”

His words sink deep, hitting their mark. “I know she will.” Stepping in, I take his hand. “But she’ll fail, Lukas. And I told you both, this isn’t about the money.”

“Good, because we don’t fucking need it. We know you love your job, and you make good money all on your own. But work, don’t work. It doesn’t matter to us. We take care of you now, not some trust fund. Even if Cole retires, we’ll still be fine.”