Page 51 of Before You Say I Do
“You should go.” Jordan folded her arms across her chest. “Before your mum or Delta crash in here and think the worst.”
“The truth.” Abby looked like she wanted to stuff the words back into her mouth. “God, what a mess.” She shook her head.
Jordan walked around the bed. “Abby.” She took one of Abby’s hands in hers. “It’s not a mess yet, and it doesn’t have to be. A few weeks from now, you’ll look back and laugh. For now, you have to let me get showered so I can take charge of today. We’ve got breakfast to eat, then a wine tour to enjoy. It’s going to be fun. The last thing I want to do is spoil your hen weekend. You only get one of these, so please try to enjoy it. For yourself, and for everyone here who wants to celebrate with you.” Jordan squeezed her hand. “Will you try?”
Abby nodded. “I’ll try.”
Jordan dropped her hand. Then immediately wanted to take Abby in her arms and tumble onto the bed.
But that wasn’t in the itinerary for today. Falling for the bride wasn’t on the spreadsheet. And Jordan was a slave to her spreadsheet.
“I’m going to have a shower. You’re going to go out and make coffee. Then at ten, men will arrive on motorbikes to deliver our breakfast. There are worse days to live through, whatever it seems like right now.”
* * *
It wasthe last stop on the wine tour and everybody was a little wasted.
Including Abby.
Okay, especially Abby.
She kept looking at Jordan with sad, doleful eyes.
Every time she did, Jordan shifted a little more uncomfortably in her seat at the front of their minibus. Any minute now, she was sure Abby was going to say something inappropriate. Sometimes, Jordan really hated alcohol and its tongue-loosening affect.
Gloria perched on the front seat, modelling the hen T-shirt wonderfully. Everyone was wearing the same: a white T-shirt with the wordsBride Squadwritten in gold swirly letters on the front. Behind them, as the radio strode towards the end of Bruno Mars’ songMarry You, the group belted out the final chorus. It had been one of the songs of the weekend, and now it was on the minibus radio. Jordan was already sick of it. However, she was smiling through like a dutiful host.
“How many more wine stops have we got, Jordan?” Gloria asked.
“One more before we head back for the final night’s dinner on the terrace under the stars.”
“Sounds so romantic.” Abby was slurring. She whipped her head around and fixed Jordan with her stare. “I want to sit beside Jordan, my best old friend.”
Every one of Jordan’s muscles tensed. The hot tub flashed through her mind. How they’d so nearly kissed. Now Abby was saying this? Was anyone else clocking it? Jordan looked around the group. She didn’t think so.
“You’ve done such a good job.” Gloria beamed at Jordan.
Jordan’s cheeks flushed. If only she knew.
“The breakfast this morning was amazing. This wine tour has been out of this world, with a private bus and our own guide. That lunch was spectacular, too.”
It had been, exceeding even Jordan’s expectations. They’d lunched in the third vineyard, overlooking the vines, and the food had been Mediterranean and glorious. Just like the wine. Jordan had sat as far away from Abby as possible, and got to know her university friends a little more. She’d almost relaxed, but there had still been a couple of moments when she’d looked up and caught Abby’s gaze. Both times, her blood had stilled, and the volume turned down.
She wasn’t surprised. They’d opened something here, hadn’t they? Much as it pained Jordan to admit, whateveritwas, it was still going. Still rolling down the hill, and she had no idea how to stop its momentum. Not with a week to go before the wedding. A week of working with Abby and Marcus every day.
Still, she was trying not to think about that, lest she give herself a stress ulcer. She’d got one when her parents divorced. It wasn’t something she wanted to repeat.
“You should do this professionally, you’re that good,” Delta added, giving Jordan a wink. She always had to get a dig in.
Still, Delta was the least of Jordan’s worries today. Plus, there was always one whose nose Jordan pushed out of joint. If she wasn’t careful, it was going to be the whole group.
The radio DJ said something in French, then put the next track on.
Jordan stilled.Drops Of Jupiter.The song she’d told Abby she loved. Hopefully she wouldn’t remember. With luck…
“Jordan!” Abby’s voice was high-pitched.
Too late.
