her. She would’ve shown up in some sequin-encrusted monstrosity, moaning about the wind or Dad’s relatives, and made our day all about her. And frankly, that sweet little Italian Chapel is too wee to accommodate Kiki’s inflated ego or her over-the-top dramatics.” Raising his brows, he glanced out the window and sipped his lukewarm coffee.
“Saz thought she’d crash the ceremony and make a scene.”
“Nah, I knew she wouldn’t.” He licked his lips and leaned back in his chair. “Over the years, she’s missed important footy games, both my Eton and uni graduations. I’m not entirely convinced she was there at my birth.” His chuckle slipped into a decisive nod as he swirled the coffee in his cup. “I’m not saying I’ll never speak to her again, but she needs to apologize first. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ would go a long way toward restoring family harmony, but I’m not holding my breath. Nico, Rupert, Fiona, my cousins…they’re all still pissed about how she behaved at Poppy’s baptism.”
Leia gave her husband an empathetic smile and glanced down at her simple platinum wedding band and diamond engagement ring, the round one-carat gem hugged on each side by a tapered baguette stone. Tarquin had promised her the biggest rock on the market, but she preferred the simplicity of something smaller, more elegant. Kiki was so wrong about me. I’m about as far from a ‘money-hungry trollop’ as they come.
She winced and ran a finger along the edge of her journal. “Have you spoken to Harry about tonight?”
“Yeah!” Tarquin shifted forward, placing his coffee on the table. “He called while I was in the queue. Simon and Freddie just checked into their hotel, and Mark and Ben are out running some last-minute errands for Alex. Oh, and she’ll bring Lucy and Riley over to ours around three to pick up their dresses. They promise they won’t dillydally—they know you and I have special dinner plans before meeting them all at Bespoke.”
Leia beamed. “Two years, Tarquin! Where did the time go? The blackout feels like yesterday.”
“Happiest day of my life, meeting you.” He smiled fondly. “I’m glad we came here today.”
“Well, it’s tradition, right? A lunchtime drink in IKEA on New Year’s Eve. I know London was out of the question because of your Tribeca development and my holiday pop-up shop, but maybe next year? Return to the real scene of the crime?”
“What Leia wants, Leia gets.” He cracked a smile and lifted his coffee, raising it in a toast.
“How many is that, then?”
“Coffees? My first. It’s always a one-coffee day when I’m with you, Ginger.”
“I thought you had some this morning. You were up so early.” She downed the last of her apple drink.
“No. I had to go for a run, didn’t I? Can’t let those grape-riddled pizza slices give me a dad bod.”
He picks off the grapes—the only healthy bit! Leia giggled and parked her empty bottle on the table. “To me, you’re sexy no matter what. It’s your heart I fell in love with.”
“No—really?” Pouting playfully, he sat up and smoothed his hands slowly down his chest. “Not my pecs? Or my abs?” He hiked up the left sleeve of his sweater. “My forearms? You do love a bit of forearm!” He bounced his eyebrows.
He has me there. “Yes, Tarquin, I think they’re hot, but honestly, it was y—”
“Got it!” He twisted in his chair, pointing behind him. “My arse!”
Leia laughed. “Now you’re being one!”
He chuckled and tossed back the dregs of his coffee, the corners of his mouth still curled upward.
She glanced at him lovingly and dipped inside her purse, pulling out her London phone box keychain. “So, Han Solo with the amazing ass and forearms, you ready to head home?”
“Yeah, let’s get going. But first, I’m just going to grab a few of those raspberry drinks to takeaway—never see them anywhere else.” He pushed back his chair and swooped down, gifting Leia a soft, chaste kiss.
“Mmm, more, please.” She opened her eyes. I cannot wait for tonight!
“Soon! I’m just keeping it PG.” He tilted his head to the side. “Kids at the next table.” With a grin, he pressed another quick kiss to her forehead and straightened up. “Be right back.”
Leia’s gaze lingered, following her husband’s butt until he disappeared in the bustle of coats and scarves and blue and yellow shopping bags headed for the counter.
Happy New Year, Tarquin.
If someone had told Leia during the London blackout that in two years’ time, she’d be blissfully married to the posh guy