Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,62
you were looking for?’
He rolls his eyes at me. ‘Lovely to see you too, Milla. It’s a wind tan, one of the hazards of Mediterranean sailing.’
‘At least that saves us having to sit through your transatlantic name dropping.’ I’m not sure why I’m feeling so prickly or why I’m still annoyed when it’s weeks since he rushed off. ‘I hope you remembered to moisturise.’
Poppy jumps up, squeezes past him, then nudges him towards the seat right next to me. ‘I’m just off to check the oven. I’ll bring you a tea, Nic, take my place next to Milla.’
It’s not like there’s space anywhere else, but it’s not the best news. Sure, I was trying to check out his smell on the tux, but I was hoping for a teensy waft. The noseful I get as he drops down beside me now is way too overpowering. Combined with the whole sun-tanned sex-god vibe and his thigh rammed up against mine, it properly pushes me over the edge.
‘In the attic with your clothes on, Nic, that’s a first too.’
Poppy jerks to a halt in the doorway. ‘Have I missed something?’
I’m kicking myself, and backtracking. ‘Just a private joke.’ That sounds even worse. ‘I mean, it’s completely public, obviously, or it is now everyone knows about it.’
Nic laughs. ‘Milla has a knack for walking in on me naked, that’s all.’
Holly’s eyes are wide. ‘Lucky Milla.’
Nic’s still going. ‘Whatever the rumours, we’ve only ever spent the night together once. And nothing happened.’
I’m staring at him. ‘Nic, why not take a muffin and shut the eff up.’ I know I started this sparring, but I didn’t mean it to end up here. I shove a flyer at him. ‘And this is for your wedding folder. We just found you your perfect hen party destination.’ I turn to Ivy. ‘Any chance we could drop by to check it out before we book?’
She beams. ‘I’m in all afternoon tomorrow.’
Nic’s obviously trying to prove he’s back in the game. ‘Great, how about we come around two.’
Merwyn’s jumped up and he’s staring at me, ears pricked. ‘Did you hear the word “come”?’
A second later he’s sprung up and he’s lying, head in my lap, tail draped across Nic’s jeans, pinning us together.
‘Merwyn!’ Ivy’s on her feet, staring at my skirt and pale pink jumper.
‘Don’t scold him, he’s fine.’ It’s actually lovely to have his warm silky head on my leg and I swear when he hears me say that his lips curl into a smile. ‘And I know the skirt is Burberry, but unlike Phoebe’s, this is from two seasons ago and I got it for a snip off eBay.’
Ivy sounds doubtful. ‘If you’re sure you’re both okay like that?’
Nic’s voice has softened as he pats Merwyn’s bottom. ‘We totally are.’
I’d rather I wasn’t lumped in with that ‘we’, but whatever. It’s Merwyn blissing us out, nothing more than that. I’m taking sideways glances at Nic, to make sure that the fizz effect has faded now I’m sober again. But what I’ve lost with the alcohol he’s more than making up for with his bronzed cheekbones, the stubble shadows accentuating his jaw and the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles. The picture flashing past my eyes of me rubbing Ambre Solaire into his shoulder blades in sweeping strokes right down his back towards his bum aren’t helping either. If anything, the phwoar factor’s ten times worse, which I’m sure I’ll get to grips with once the surprise dies down. The sooner he gets the hell out of my personal space and takes his toned thighs and T-shirt-clad torso with him the better. How the hell I’m going to concentrate on Holly’s photos I have no idea.
Holly’s turning her laptop screen towards us. ‘We were just about to start our virtual venue tour, Nic, so if you’re all ready, first up we’ve got The Mermaid Hotel.’ We’re looking at a bride by small-paned sash windows, and shots of a sheer glass extension running straight out onto sand dunes. ‘This one’s a beautiful mix of Georgian and contemporary, it’s practically on the beach, and as you can see from this shot of Ken and Meriel’s wedding, one of its biggest assets is the stairs where the bride makes her entrance.’
Ivy’s leaning in. ‘Wow, that’s a proper Disney staircase. Her train rippling down the steps is almost as good as Megan’s outside Windsor Abbey.’
I might as well explain to Nic. ‘This is why you buy the dress to go with the