Page 80 of Just Say Yes
‘No problem. How was your weekend away?’
‘Busy,’ I said. ‘There’s a lot of planning to do for this wedding. It’s a big event and I need to make sure everything is absolutely perfect.’
‘So the guy you were with is the one getting married? I noticed his accent.’
‘No. He’s the best man.’
‘Looks like he got the best job, accompanying you,’ Tom said, before flushing the same red as the late rose blooming in the border next to him.
Oh, crikey. Betty – and Lorcan – were right! Tom was sweet but not my type. Not that I really had a type or even the time to decide on a type. But I didn’t want to hurt his feelings or pretend I was interested when I wasn’t.
‘Somehow I don’t think he’d agree with you. Anyway, what can I do for you?’
‘Nothing. I was just passing and knew you were back today so thought I’d, you know, say hello.’
‘Well, that’s a coincidence, I was just doing the same thing myself.’ Lorcan’s deep, sing-song tones drifted in the still air as he came through the gate, ducking under the arch where a rosy pink, late-blooming clematis was just hanging on before the first of the frosts blackened it. ‘Tom, isn’t it?’ He held out his hand and Tom shook it, shooting a glance at me as he did so but all he’d have seen there was total bewilderment. What the hell was Lorcan doing here? ‘Nice to see you again.’
Tom nodded, and offered up a smile. ‘Well, I’d better be heading off.’
‘Oh, OK. Thanks again for keeping an eye on the house, and for fixing the gate, of course.’
He smiled, wider this time. ‘Any time,’ he said, before nodding once at Lorcan and heading back out of the garden and on into the village.
‘Got your own personal handyman now, have you?’ Lorcan grinned.
‘No. He oiled the gate and frankly,’ I said, dropping my voice, ‘I’d prefer if he hadn’t. I left it squeaky for a reason.’
‘Advance alert system?’
‘Yes!’ I said, turning to Lorcan. ‘Exactly.’
‘He means well, I’m sure.’
‘He does. I know. And I’m aware I sound very ungrateful. I just prefer to do things myself if I can.’
‘Yeah. I know. We spent the weekend together, remember?’
‘Shooosh!’ I said, flapping my hands at him and shooing him into the house before closing the door behind us. ‘We did not spend the weekend together.’
‘I’m not suggesting anything,’ he replied.
‘OK, fine but it sounds wrong when you say it like that.’
‘Wrong?’
‘Yes. Like we “spent” the weekend together,’ I explained, dipping my fingers into air quotes.
‘And that would be wrong?’ He raised one eyebrow and a smile drifted around his lips.
I had a feeling that spending a weekend with Lorcan O’Malley would be the very opposite of wrong. Which was exactly why I stuck to my guns now.
‘Yes. Very. Incredibly.’
‘I’m wounded.’
‘Oh, you are not. I drive you up the wall just as much as you do me.’
He made a head gesture that was a maybe yes, maybe no, as he stepped through to the kitchen and studied the schedule on my fridge. ‘How on earth do you function like this?’ He tapped the paper.
