I walk around the front of the truck, and she’s staring at me with her big, baby-blue eyes.
“Nope.” Her shoulders sag, and it’s like I popped her birthday balloon. I don’t like the feeling, so I add, “My parents will love you. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
She perks up and blows out a breath. “Okay. I can do this.”
I walk around the side yard, knowing on a gorgeous day like today my parents will have the backyard set up picnic-style for our weekly dinner.
My mom spots Poppy and me first.
“There they are!” she squeals and hurries over. “You must be Poppy.” She gives Poppy a brisk hug. “So lovely to meet you, dear.”
Poppy eases out of the hug. “Thank you so much for having me.”
My mom is looking her up and down with a delighted expression on her face. “Aren’t you cute as a button? I hope my Holland has been treating you well?”
Poppy blushes, and I look away.
Because it’s weird to think about my baby brother treating any woman in any way, but also because it’s always like a knife to the side when my mom refers to Holland asmy Holland.
I’ve never beenmy Mack—or at least, I haven’t been for a long time—and that’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it. But sometimes it gets under my skin. Like a sliver. Or a bee sting.
Or a bee sting on top of a sliver.
“Come with me. I want to show you around.” My mom turns, linking her arm with Poppy's, only to pause and glance back to me. “Thanks for getting our Poppy here, Mack. The guys are inside.”
She turns Poppy in the direction of my cousin Piper and her fiancé, Ed, anxious to make introductions. Poppy tosses me a small smile over her shoulder, and she looks so relieved I can’t hold it against her that less than five minutes into knowing my mother she also has already earned a possessive pronoun.
I tell myself I don’t care. It’s my least favorite part of speech.
I wander inside to find two of my employees, whom my parents have adopted as surrogate children. Patrick Casterro and his wife, Mia, are standing around the island in my parents’ kitchen along with Lou Boggs. I greet the guys and give Mia a quick peck on the cheek.
“Your mom and dad are so kind to keep having us over,” Mia says as she grabs another carrot from the vegetable platter.
Since she and Patrick moved to town six months back, they have been Sunday dinner regulars. It’s kind of my mom and dad’s thing. They take in anyone new to Cashmere Cove and make sure they feel at home.
“They’d be offended if you didn’t come,” I assure her.
Mia smiles. “I’m going to head back out and mingle. You boys behave.”
She leaves through the screen door, and I make my way to the fridge for a beer. “You guys good?”
Patrick and Lou raise their drinks.
“So what’s the 411 on Cashmere Cove’s newest—and prettiest—residents?” Lou asks.
“Holland’s girlfriend and her sister,” Patrick helpfully adds, in case, you know, I missed Lou’s hooked thumb in the direction of where Poppy is standing, chatting with my mom and dad on the patio.
I pop the top on my beer. “What do you want to know?”
“Are they nice?” Patrick asks.
“Are they single?” Lou says at the same time.
Patrick slaps him on the back of the head. “Dude. Poppy is dating Holland.”
“Which is weird, right?” Lou asks, unfazed. “Like, she moves to town as he’s moving away? Doesn’t seem like the smartest way to set up a lasting relationship.”
“It’s unconventional,” I agree.
