Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,28

the same slogan as Jess – no job too small or too large. We do everything from rowing tourists across the harbour to taking millionaires and their super yachts around the southern oceans.’

I’d expected to be yawning but instead my jaw’s sagging with surprise. ‘And Snow Goose?’

A grin flashes across his face. ‘That’s one job I fitted in myself. Her owner wanted her brought back from the States, and now he wants me to stay onboard until he uses her again.’

‘And you get paid for that?’ As I take in his nod beyond my elbow I can’t hold in my shock. ‘So has Snow Goose got a bathroom then?’ I’ve always wondered how Captain Jack Sparrow managed, I might as well find out.

‘The facilities onboard are basic, but mostly I use the very nice shower block behind the harbour master’s office.’ Out of the corner of my eye his lips could be twitching. ‘There might not always be a power shower, but I have total freedom and worldwide travel, plenty of fresh air and challenges, and no two days are ever the same.’

‘Except when you’re sitting in St Aidan harbour.’ Just saying. He’s been here weeks now. And if I sound a bit like I’m picking him up on every little thing, I am. Because however much we’re charging him, it’s not enough. To be brutally honest, I’m still annoyed that he thought I wasn’t good enough for him first time around.

‘You got me there.’ He’s smiling to himself now.

I grab my opportunity and go for it. ‘So does the bride sail too?’

His smile widens. ‘She loves it even more than I do.’

Result! I start my mental list with ‘tanned and outdoorsy’. Just like him. Add in ‘doesn’t mind teensy bathrooms’. But before I get to remark how much they have in common, he’s crossing his ankles and carrying on.

‘From what I’ve seen so far, weddings don’t sound like anything I’ll have an aptitude for.’ It’s a shame he’s already so negative.

I pull a face. ‘In which case, I suggest you start learning. The details are what make the day.’

His face drops. ‘You can’t be serious?’

I can’t help teasing him. ‘They don’t give marriage certificates out to people unless they put the hours in.’

He’s straight back at me. ‘And have you got one of those? I mean, are you?’

‘Am I what? Married? Me?!’ I’m so surprised, I stop steering and bump up the verge. Then I straighten up and flash him a smile. ‘Not at the moment. So I haven’t even got that piece of paper.’

I’m not going to go into how long my wedding to Ben was pending and how many hours of wedding planning practice I had there. How I woke up every New Year’s Day for five years and vowed that this would be the year. How with every new effort I’d search out better and more impressive venues, each time hoping this would be the one to get Ben onboard and keep him there. But the pattern was always the same. He was all for it on the first visit, but by the time we came to book I’d lost him. Then I’d be back to looking again.

‘So what about that other thing … the one with the ring?’

I can’t help my high voice. ‘Even for a guy, that’s vague.’ For a groom it’s spectacular, but to be fair when it comes to men having areas of wedding blankness, nothing will surprise me. ‘You mean the engagement?’

‘The one with the special hand?’

I flex my fingers on the steering wheel. ‘Third finger left side.’ A year on there’s still an indentation where my own ring used to be.

‘So how about that?’

As I look sideways and meet that dark gaze, I’m answering when I don’t mean to. ‘Only once.’ I shuffle in my seat. Remind myself he’s paying for my expertise not my life details. ‘Ancient history. It came to nothing and it’s way too complicated to go into.’

‘So there’s a story to tell?’

‘Definitely not today.’ Definitely not to him. And thankfully, the sign for Rose Hill village is coming up. ‘Not far now.’ The way this is going I can’t get there fast enough.

I swing the van into the pretty main street with its neat cottages, and can’t help smiling because the pots of pansies on the pavement by the brightly painted front doors are still so much the same as they always were my whole childhood. As we pass the end of the narrow lane where