Stand-In Saturday (Love For Days #2) - Kirsty Moseley Page 0,76

say our goodbyes. Lucie is hugged a lot. My mum tells her she’s welcome at the house anytime, and then she gives me a you’d better keep hold of this one look that I choose to ignore. I’m doing my damned best, but it’s not my call. This is all Lucie’s decision if this goes any further. Peggy “accidentally” gropes my bum as I hug her goodbye. I watch as Lucie exchanges numbers with Amy. It’s so sweet how well they get on. Amy vows to let Lucie know all about her honeymoon to Bali when she gets home in two weeks.

Once we’ve hugged everyone twice (cue another bum grope from Peggy), we excuse ourselves to go upstairs to pack. We are the only ones getting this flight. Other people are flying out today, too, but they’re flying into a different airport, seeing as it’s closer to their homes. Only Lucie and I are flying back to London this afternoon. I must admit, I’m a little glad because it means I get her to myself some more.

After packing up our stuff and dropping off my hired wedding attire and my fancy-dress costume with the concierge (Jared prearranged to have most stuff couriered home again along with the wedding gifts), we check out of the hotel, handing back our room keys, and then we cram ourselves into the ridiculously small hire car and head for the airport.

Our flight isn’t boarding for a while, so once we’ve cleared customs and untrustworthy-looking Lucie has had her second pat-down of the trip, we head for the food court.

I nod towards the bar. “Need some Dutch courage again? I might have something stronger this time, see if I can dull my pain receptors before you crush my hand again on the flight.” I send her a teasing wink.

She smiles gratefully and nods in agreement.

We have two drinks before they call our flight. Again, Lucie opts for the window seat and sits there, a little pale and nervous, one hand pressed to her stomach.

I lean over and drop a kiss on the top of her head, taking her hand and lacing our fingers together. “We’ll soon be home, Luce. Don’t worry. I got you.” I’m not expecting the level of disappointment that hits me as I say it. I don’t want to go home.

She nods and leans closer to me, setting her head on my shoulder, her hand gripping mine for dear life.

As the plane ferries us back to London, I’m acutely conscious that we haven’t spoken about what this all means and what happens now. I’m hopeful it means she wants to see me again. She’s ruined me for other girls. I need to see this through.

I can’t help but wonder, Is she my version of Amy?

Maybe fate threw me a bone that day I got stuck in the lift with her.

Our chemistry is electric. It’s like hanging out with a best friend that you fancy the shit out of. I’ve never had that with any of the other girls I’ve dated. Something deep down is telling me that this might be something special and that I need to nurture it and try everything to hold on to it.

This weekend has left a scar on me, and I’m not only talking about the fingernails scratching at my back or teeth sinking into my shoulder kind. I mean, it’s left a scar on my heart. I want this all to happen again and again. I want to be the first thing she sees in the morning and the last thing at night. I want more of her than I think she’s willing or able to give because she’s still hung up on a guy she caught cheating on her.

Is this just a weekend-long affair in her eyes?

I have a horrible, dejected feeling in my stomach that this is purely a physical thing for her, an itch she needed to scratch and I was in the right place at the right time. I don’t think she feels the same about me. Her stipulation of our bargain was for me to accompany her to her dad’s party and let her use me to make Lucas jealous, but to what end? So he realises he made a monumental mistake and they give it another go? She deserves better than that. The thing is, I’m not sure she believes that.

How much I like her scares me a little. I want to see her again after this, to keep getting to