Page 13 of The Brit and the Bridesmaid
“Hey, boys!” Matthew called out. “We’ve one more.”
She was welcomed heartily. Any concerns she might have had about butting in were quickly put to rest. She was immediately part of the game, treated like one of the guys, though they weren’t nearly as rough with her as they were with each other. It was great to play again. She’d stopped while Dirk was in her life, and, though she couldn’t say why, hadn’t taken it back up again.
Matthew, she discovered, could smack talk with the best of them. And he was funny. Hilarious. She’d seen hints of that during their walk around Sainsbury House the day she’d gone there on Caroline’s orders. But during their lunch among the roses a few days later, he’d been quiet and distant. She’d assumed he didn’t want to be there, or he wasn’t enjoying her company.
The two of them, who had ended up on the same team, both as forward, trounced the other team. The game wasn’t anything official, just a bunch of people trying to score against a bunch of other people, with little regard for rules.
The players began trickling off as the afternoon wore on. The game finally broke up, with the others declaring that Matthew had brought in a secret weapon, that he’d been planning to bring her in all along.
Abby couldn’t remember the last time she’d grinned so wide.
“We’re good,” Matthew declared, smiling at her.
“We’re? I didn’t think you were allowed to use contractions.”
He laughed lightly. “Away from work, I can use them all I want.” Matthew dribbled his soccer ball as they walked away from the field. “Speaking of work, thanks again for helping Larry with the roses. He was having trouble clearing up the fungus you two were working on.”
She knew how persistent black rot could be. “No problem.”
Matthew opened his mouth like he meant to say something, but then stopped.
“What?”
He slowed their pace. “I have a neighbor, an older man, who is an avid gardener. He has an acre’s worth of plants on his tiny little balcony.”
Abby could easily picture it.
“He has been particularly distraught lately about spots on his tomato plants.”
“On the tomatoes or the leaves?”
“I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “Do you think... would you be willing to take a look? Give him some advice?”
She hadn’t expected this. It was almost as if he valued her expertise. She didn’t think the lord of the manor usually talked plants with the gardening staff.
“Do you think your neighbor would welcome the advice?”
He nodded without hesitation. “And you’d like Barney. He’s fantastic.”
She kept her expression serious. “I prefer unfantastic people, actually.”
Matthew smiled at her. Somehow over the course of their soccer match, she’d forgotten how devastating that smile could be. Her heart pounded a bit before she managed to get it under control again.
“If you have a little time now, I’m just up the road a bit,” Matthew said. Again, a hint of uncertainty hung in his tone, like he was afraid he might be wearing out his welcome.
“If Barney doesn’t mind a dirty, sweaty gardener, I’m game.”
Matthew gave her a grateful look and even thanked her for it.
Which Matthew was the real one? The personable, humble, joking Matthew? Or the stuffy, arrogant one? And why was it that men were so hard to figure out?
Chapter Six
Matt knocked on Barney’s door, trying to convince himself this was actually happening. Abby Grover, who’d blown him off more times than he could count, and who, until that afternoon on the football pitch, had seemed more or less unapproachable, was with him at his apartment building.
And she was smiling. And talking to him.
The door opened. Barney’s thick white eyebrows pulled in a look of curiosity.
