Page 113 of For Love or Money
Damn! Why did their timing have to be so out of whack? It’d be so much easier if she’d fancied him straight away when they met at Dinner Dates, and accepted when he asked her out. They’d be dating in a nice normal way, and she’d know what it was.
Still, she wasn’t going to get all worked up and neurotic about it. She’d just enjoy it for what it was and see where it went.
37
Fresh from her early-morning run, Stella sat at the table in Peter’s kitchen drinking her breakfast smoothie as she went over her to-do lists for the day. In the week since they’d got home, she’d thrown herself into wedding preparations, and she was finding it surprisingly enjoyable. She liked the organisational aspect of it, and it felt good to be busy. She was still determined to keep it all as low-key as possible, but there was still lots to do, and in fact it turned out that foregoing a designated venue actually meant a lot of extra research and planning. She lived by her lists.
She’d booked the registry office, and was researching caterers for a small reception at the house. Hopefully this weather would keep up, she thought, looking out the window at the sun sparkling across the bay. The past week had been uncharacteristically hot and sunny for Ireland, and the terraced garden would be perfect for a party. She imagined how magical it would look with fairy lights and coloured lanterns in the trees and shrubs, and all the flowers in bloom.
Focusing so much on the details of the wedding in the last few days, she had found herself almost forgetting the marriage at the heart of it. But every so often, it would hit her where all this was leading, and she felt rather dazed that it was really happening. It was such an ordinary thing, really, despite the spectacle and romance. But she had never expected to have an ordinary life. Rings and white dresses and promises of ever-after belonged to other girls – girls whose smooth, straight paths through their well-ordered lives seemed to lead inevitably to the altar – and there was a little part of her that feared she’d be found out and exposed as an imposter, trying to lay claim to a life that wasn’t rightfully hers.
‘You’re up early.’
She turned as Rafe came into the kitchen, dressed in a T-shirt and joggers.
‘Mmm, lots to do today,’ she said, indicating her lists.
‘Coffee?’ Rafe asked, as he switched on the machine.
‘No thanks.’
He yawned and stretched while he waited for the coffee. ‘Anything I can help you with?’ He nodded at her notebooks.
She shook her head. ‘It’s wedding planning stuff,’ she said, avoiding his gaze. Rafe had been friendly towards her since moving in with her and Peter after they’d returned to Dublin, but she still felt on shaky ground with him, and tried to avoid talking about the wedding when he was around. She didn’t want to push her luck.
‘Still going ahead with that, then?’ His tone was flippant and teasing, but there was an undercurrent of antagonism to it.
‘Yep.’
He poured a mug of coffee and sat across the table from her with it. ‘Well, you’ve been helping me with my house-hunting. The least I can do is return the favour.’
Stella had been delighted Rafe had accepted her offer to help with his property search. She was an avid watcher of all the TV property shows, and she loved looking around houses, so she enjoyed accompanying him on viewings. Plus she was good at it. She always knew the right questions to ask and had a good nose for when an estate agent was trying to hide something – unlike Rafe, who fell for the ‘lifestyle’ staging every time and never thought to look past it. But more than that, she was glad to have something they could do together to get on a more friendly footing with each other.
‘Thanks for the offer. But Lesley’s coming over later to help. Anyway, I don’t think your heart would be in it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, wouldn’t it be a bit like a bank manager helping a thief out with his plans for a heist? Since you think I’m intent on stealing the family jewels.’ She blushed, realising what she’d said. ‘Um ... so to speak.’ Damn it, why had she said that? She didn’t want a confrontation.
Rafe chuckled. ‘Hardly.’ He looked down at his coffee, then up at her, his expression serious. ‘Come on,’ he said softly, ‘you can’t blame me for being suspicious. I mean, much as we all love him, Dad’s no prize. You can do better.’
His gaze was intense, and Stella had to look away.
‘Your father is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,’ she said stiffly.
When she looked back at him, she was stunned by his expression. His eyes were narrowed as if trying to make her out, and he looked sad ... almost pitying.
‘You’re only twenty-six. Maybe the best is yet to come.’
‘I’m counting on it,’ she said softly. ‘Look, Rafe, I know you don’t like me, but—’
‘I think we both know that’s not true.’
She felt her face heat under the intensity of his gaze. ‘Well, you don’t approve of me, then,’ she said, refusing to let him unnerve her.
‘I don’t think you’re a bad person, Stella. But I do think you’re making a big mistake.’ He sighed, running a hand through his hair. ‘But I guess there’s not much I can do about it, is there?’
‘Not a thing.’
