Meant to Be (Sweetbriar Cove #1)(18)

She got up from her comfy seat in the den and went to go make dinner. It was a cloudy Sunday, overcast and spitting rain, but somehow she wasn't surprised to see Cooper's truck parked next door as usual, and the sound of occasional hammering coming from the bare-bones house. He definitely worked hard, even without the rest of his crew on site to lend a hand.

She paused at the kitchen window. The ocean was stormy, the foam-tipped waves surging up against the shore. Cooper emerged from the main structure to haul some wood in from the truck, bending his head against the wind. He was bundled up in a jacket and scarf, and for a moment, she thought about inviting him in for a hot drink or some dinner. Then she remembered how his mouth had felt against hers, sure and certain, and she prickled with embarrassment all over again.

Soup. She'd make soup. That would kill some time.

Poppy set about pulling ingredients from the fridge: last night's chicken, celery, carrots-Aunt June's chicken soup could solve any problem, and she didn't even need a scribbled recipe as a guide. This one she knew by heart. Poppy had just diced the vegetables and added them to the pot when her cellphone rang. "Summer," she smiled, lodging the phone against her shoulder so she could keep stirring. "Hey." 

"How's beach life?" Summer asked, her voice bright. "I'm so jealous, I've been working around the clock at the restaurant. Tell me how sunshine feels, all I have is those fluorescent strip lights burning down on me."

She smiled. Summer was a chef at a high-end restaurant back home, and for all her complaining, she loved her work. "No sun today, but you should take a break, come visit. Cash in all that vacation time you never use."

Summer sighed. "I wish. I booked time off for your wedding, but now . . ." She trailed off. "Whoops, sorry."

"It's OK," Poppy reassured her. "I'm not going to break down every time someone mentions marriage or weddings."

"I know, it's just . . . have you been on Facebook?"

"No, why?"

"Nothing!" Summer said brightly.

"Summer," Poppy prompted her.

"OK, don't flip, but Owen posted a bunch of photos. From Fiji."

Poppy paused stirring. "He went on our honeymoon without me?"

"Well, you weren't exactly going to go with him," Summer pointed out.

"I know, I just . . . didn't expect it. But I suppose it makes sense," Poppy said slowly, still trying to process the news. "We managed to get our money back for the venue and catering, but those flights were non-refundable. At least the trip didn't go to waste."

"Listen to you, so practical." Summer laughed. "Ever thought about writing non-fiction? You could do a how-to guide on cancelling your wedding."

Poppy didn't reply. She should be relieved that Owen had taken the honeymoon tickets; if anyone deserved a week on the beach in Fiji, it was him, after everything she'd put him through. She'd insisted on being the one to call around cancelling their wedding plans, but still, there were things they both had to take care of, like returning all the early wedding gifts to everyone, along with a polite note explaining that Owen Hendricks and Poppy Somerville were no longer due to be married.

"Poppy?" Summer asked, and she realized she'd been silent a while. "I'm sorry, it's too soon to be joking about this stuff. I know it hasn't been easy on you."

"It's OK," Poppy said. "I'm doing fine. And I mean it," she insisted. "I probably should be more devastated. I mean, we were together nearly two years. But mostly, I just feel . . . relieved."

Relieved she wasn't on her honeymoon as planned, with a ring on her finger and that sick feeling still heavy like a stone in her stomach. The fact that she hadn't even missed Owen once since getting on her flight said it all. She'd been so caught up in her deadline panic, she'd barely thought of him at all, not even when Cooper kissed her.

Cooper had kissed her.

Poppy remembered it all over again-in glorious Technicolor. She'd already been making out with another man, not three weeks after breaking her fiancé's heart.

Poppy groaned. "I'm a terrible person!"

"You're not!" Summer protested. "You did the right thing. And Owen will see that too, one day."

"I hope so." Poppy felt a pang. "I never meant to hurt him."

"Well, a week in a luxury resort getting waited on hand and foot probably helped soothe the blow," Summer said. "Hell, I'd call off a wedding if it got me out of the kitchen before seven. On a weekend."