Page 77 of Just Say Yes
‘It’s bad luck for the best man to see the wedding dress before the actual day and I know you wouldn’t want to be responsible for risking any more of that for Patrick and Peyton, especially considering the setback they already had.’ I fixed on my most understanding expression as I tilted my head back to meet his eyes.
He took a step closer, transferring the dog from my arms to his, our hands and arms brushing as he did. His voice was low when he spoke.
‘Even I know that it’s the groom who’s not supposed to see the dress, not the best man. Besides,’ he added, the voice still low and melodious and dangerously intimate in the soft glow of the small table lamp, ‘you know if you don’t tell me, I’ll just ring the designer and meet you there.’ His voice was close to my ear now and I could feel warm breath tickling it. I turned my head, ostensibly to tell him firmly that his assistance was not needed once and for all. But as I did so I found myself perilously close to his lips, and staring directly into the deep pools of blue that could transform from calm sea to thunderous sky in seconds, and for that split second my mind emptied of everything but the thought of how it would feel to have those lips on mine, on me, on my—
‘I have to be at the studio at six!’ I blurted in an octave higher than usual, stepping back as I did so and tripping over a heavy doorstop in the shape of a hippo. Lorcan’s free arm reached out and steadied me, his brows drawing together.
‘Everything OK?’
‘Yes.’
He paused a beat or two, watching me. ‘Message me where to pick you up from once you’ve checked your schedule. See you Wednesday.’
I gave him a tight smile as he began to head down the path.
‘Thanks for looking after Bod today,’ he said, turning back. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘That really was my pleasure,’ I replied, this time with a genuine smile.
He gave a short nod. ‘And if you ever figure out a way to think about it separate from work, I hope you find you enjoyed Ireland.’
I gave him an exasperated shake of my head and squelched the rebellious smile that was trying to curl my lips.
‘Don’t think I don’t see that smile, either.’
Honest to God, how did he do it? It was practically dark. I swear he had Leprechaun blood flowing in his veins.
‘I’m not smiling,’ I called out.
‘Liar,’ he called back lazily as he slid into the driver’s seat, a low, disturbingly sexy chuckle drifting after it on the still night before the low growl of the engine swallowed it up. With another wave, he drove off into the darkness. I closed the door before the tail lights disappeared and leant against the thick wood for a moment before heading straight up to the bathroom to take a long, hot bath. Although, as the memory of Lorcan’s mouth drifted uninvited back into my thoughts, I considered that perhaps a cold shower might be more appropriate.
* * *
The following morning, after a good sleep in my own bed and my usual green smoothie for breakfast, I was feeling more like my old self and wondering what all the fuss my mind (and body) had made over Lorcan O’Malley was about. As I had suspected, it was clearly just to do with being out of my environment for the first time in ages – the magical surroundings of Ireland, a romantic castle setting and the kind, genuine people I’d met. I’d be more prepared on my next trip and on top of my game, able to deal with anything and – more importantly – anyone, without getting distracted.
‘Hello?’ Betty’s voice called through the letterbox when I ignored my doorbell while trying to get a session of Pilates in – something else that had gone amiss at the weekend. I’d had to modify my practice thanks to my injury but at least I was getting some exercise. Well, I had been but my neighbour could be persistent, especially when she’d clearly spotted me getting out of a car, aided by a good-looking man. To be fair, it had been a long time since she’d had the opportunity to good-naturedly spy on such an occurrence, but still. I was desperately trying to get back to my schedule and Tuesday mornings from eight until nine, clearly marked, in purple, were Pilates.
‘Hello-o-o-o-o-o!’ she called again.
I flopped back on my mat and let out a sigh.
‘Coming, Betty.’
27
I pushed myself up off the mat and went to answer the door. ‘Hi,’ I said, pulling it open.
‘Hello, dear. I’m not disturbing you, am I?’ She glanced at my workout top and shorts, then noticed the dressing on my leg. ‘Oh! What happened there?’
‘Come in, Betty. Nothing much, I fell over at the weekend and cut it.’
‘Oh dear. Is it bad?’
‘A couple of stitches. I’m having them out in a few days.’
‘You poor thing,’ she said. Then a faint smile began to form on her kindly features. ‘Was it…?’ She made a drinking gesture.
‘Not at all,’ I replied. ‘Like I said, it was a business trip. I was working the whole time.’
