Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,56

for now, I can’t be too careful; I’ve already committed an epic fail letting Cally throw up on her dress instead of in a bag. After ending up on the floor in a pile of ice cream at the last wedding, if I make an alcohol-fuelled lunge and start dry humping the (already spoken-for) best man at this one, I have an idea my extra work for Jess could come to a very swift end.

As dancing with him is totally out of the question without me completely embarrassing myself, I’m safer going back to Nic’s first question.

‘Some brides change dresses for a more sophisticated look in the evening and I think you’ll agree, Cally’s nailed that.’ I didn’t mean my forced laugh to be quite so hysterical. ‘You know what we women are like – any excuse for a new dress.’

For a guy looking at women’s bridal wear for the first time, he’s very quick to sum up. ‘Well, hers is better than before, but yours isn’t so good.’

‘Since when did you become Falmouth’s foremost fashion guru?’

He’s doing that annoying, nonchalant shrugging thing again. ‘I’ve got eyes, that’s all. Cally’s dress tonight is a lot like yours this afternoon, but with less wow factor.’

I’m shaking my head, hoping Cally didn’t hear that. ‘Shit, Nic, don’t diss the bride.’

He’s pulling down the corners of his mouth as he protests. ‘I’m only telling the truth. And what the hell have you done to yours?’

There’s a thousand per cent less breast on show for starters, which is the last thing he should have on his radar. ‘I’ve changed to a warmer version in case the evening turns chilly.’

‘They both look awesome. But, given the choice, I’d go for the first one.’ He’s pursing his lips. ‘Just saying.’

I’m inwardly rolling my eyes but outwardly sounding super-professional and upbeat. ‘Well, great you’re getting some practice. We’ll know to head straight for the slash-to-the-waist styles when the time comes for you to choose.’

He’s looking at me, tilting his head on one side. ‘You do know you’re drinking Cally’s cocktail there, not yours?’

Ouch. And damn. It’s my turn to sound like I don’t give any shits. ‘Really?’

The lines on his forehead deepen. ‘That’s the second time I’ve seen you doing that.’

‘Oops.’ If he’s only spotted it twice, I’m actually doing a great job.

He shrugs. ‘I know with your past that weddings must be hard for you, but binge drinking isn’t the answer.’

I’m so surprised I gulp the rest of my cocktail in one. ‘I’m okay. Really!’

He coughs. ‘If I know Patricia, these will be double strength.’

If he’s intending to be insulting, he’s succeeded. ‘What is this, best man chore number fifty-four, stop the bridesmaid getting rat-arsed?’

He closes his eyes. ‘This is coming from the best place.’

I blink back at him. ‘And this is coming from an even better one – Nic, I’m not drunk, shut the eff up and get off my case.’ It comes out so loudly that there are people on the dance floor looking round. I try to look relaxed but when I lean forward to stir my cocktail, somehow my stick completely misses the glass.

‘Let’s talk about something else.’ He leans back on his chair, which is pretty disastrous too. ‘So how do you and Cally know each other? I thought you just arrived from Bristol?’

‘Hmmm …’ I’m trying to wrench my eyes off the uninterrupted view of his zip area.

He’s still going. ‘And this morning – why did you say you were off to work?’

‘When did the questions get so hard?’ I was hoping not to ask, but it’s all I have left to put him off. ‘So where’s – you know …’ I force myself to say it ‘… Elfie?’

It works, because his eyes snap open. ‘Why are you asking that?’

‘I just thought she’d be invited, that’s all.’

‘I told you, she’s on an intensive course in Scotland. That’s why I’m in total charge down here.’

As the walls beyond his head lurch alarmingly, I’ve got my hands flat on the high table trying to hold the room steadier. ‘I suppose Elfie’s just as great at dancing as Cally …’ It’s like someone else is operating my mouth. But she has to be, given she’s brilliant at everything else. Or maybe this is my desperate grasp for the truth to cut straight through my heart and force my outrageous libido back into line.

As I stare into his eyes, willing him to reply, his face clouds, then his jaw tenses. He’s drumming his fingers,