The Damaged Hearts Bargain (Tetherington Hearts #2)

Chapter Two

“W hich one of you is going to wear the dress?” George demanded, setting down a plate of roast potatoes with rosemary.

“George!” Billy, George’s husband, slapped his wrist. “They might both want to wear a dress.”

George looked at Lucy and they both snorted.

“What?” Ash demanded.

“I rather think that they find the idea of you in a dress amusing,” said Pen, helping herself to potatoes. “Which is a fair point. Even I’ve barely seen your legs and I’m about to marry you.”

“She does have legs, doesn’t she?” Lucy asked, scooting her chair back to peer under the table.

“Of course I have legs,” Ash said. “We came over here for moral support, not to be bullied about our sartorial choices, thank you very much.”

“Friends tease friends,” said Pen, patting Ash’s arm. “It’s all a part of the process.”

Lucy felt a little spark of jealousy as she saw Pen touching her fiancée. Not that she had a crush on Pen. Well, not a real one anyway. She had, once, had a stray thought that being cuddled by Pen would be awfully nice.

But that was mostly because Pen had saved her. Sort of. It had been Pen who had given her a job and a place to stay when she’d been living on the streets. A new start that had resulted in Lucy now living in George and Billy’s spare room, painting in their garage, and working for the local newsagent.

A life that should be more than satisfying after one too many nights on park benches or under bridges or just shivering on the sand and waiting for the sun to come up. So every time she felt that spark of jealousy, Lucy tamped it well down and did her best to ignore it.

“I’ve had friends before,” Ash complained. “I know when I’m being teased.”

“Ladies, play nice,” said George, finally sitting down at the table. “And why on earth do you need moral support?”

“We don’t, not really,” Pen said. “But Ash’s mother called this morning asking about the wedding again, so she’s in a snit.”

“I’m not in a snit,” Ash said. “I just want to make sure that everything’s… the way it’s supposed to be.”

“You’ve got the most simple wedding known to man planned,” Lucy put in, taking a slice of cold roast beef. “You literally have nothing left to plan. We all turn up, there’s some flowers, you get married, we all eat sandwiches and cake. I don’t think you can make things any less complicated.”

“It’s not how complicated things are,” Billy said slowly. “It’s how much it means to you that’s the problem.”

“Well, in our case, it’s my mother’s long, long experience with weddings that’s the problem,” Ash said. “Nine weddings of her own and she’s some kind of expert.”

“Yes, love, but this is going to be a one and only kind of wedding, so it’s best that we do it right,” said Pen, patting Ash’s arm again and making Lucy feel that spark of jealousy again.

“And you’re literally getting married for the tax break,” George threw in.

“And the honeymoon,” said Pen. “Don’t forget that.”

“I’m an accountant by trade,” said Ash. “There are several tax advantages to marriage, including—”

“No,” George said. “No accounting talk at the table. If you want to advise Billy on our taxes, you’re very welcome. But we won’t discuss such vile things over dinner.”

“Dinner? It’s only four o’clock,” Ash said.

“Which is dinner time if you’re a postman and have to be up at the crack of dawn,” said George, flashing an adoring look at Billy.

All this adoration. That was the problem. It wasn’t that Lucy begrudged her friends each other, it was more… More that she was lonely, she realized as she watched them. Surrounded by people who loved her, who laughed with her, and still lonely.

“Personally, I love eating dinner at four o’clock,” Pen said dreamily. “It means there’s plenty of time for snacks later. I’ve been working on one of those new Crookie things, you know, a mixture of croissant and cookie dough, and it’s incredible.”

“So what’s going to happen to the bakery when you’re on your honeymoon?” Lucy asked, feeling like she should take part in the conversation a little more rather than wallowing in her own misery at being lonely.

“I’m happening to it,” George said proudly.

Pen smiled at him calmly and then turned to Lucy. “Actually, I was going to ask you if you could help out a bit. Just when you’re not at the newsagents. There’ll be no fresh bakes, just heat up from frozen, so between the two of you it should all be fine.”

“Absolutely,” Lucy said, because she’d do anything for Pen. “You don’t even have to ask.”

“Are you both wearing dresses then?” George demanded.

The table devolved into wedding chatter and Lucy concentrated on eating and trying to be happy for everyone. She was happy for everyone. But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t a little jealous too.

By the time six o’clock rolled around, Pen and Ash had said their goodbyes, Billy was loading the dishwasher, and Lucy could take her glass of wine out into the little garden.

It was unseasonably hot, the sun still biting at her skin as she looked out over the sea, trying to examine why she wasn’t as happy as she really thought she should be.

“You alright out here?” George said, coming out with two steaming mugs. “Here.” He swapped the dregs of her wine for a hot cup of coffee. “Drink too much of the red stuff and you’ll be complaining of a headache all day tomorrow and that’s the last thing we need.”

She took the mug. “You don’t have to look after me.”

“Don’t I?” George asked, cocking his dark head. “’Cos it looks like someone should. You’ve a face like a wet weekend. What’s going on?”

Lucy sighed and sat down on the kitchen step, letting the soft breeze blow her hair back. “Just… Just being the third wheel is getting a bit old, I suppose.”

“Fifth wheel,” George said, coming to sit beside her. “You’re the fifth wheel.” He calmly considered the view. “Mind you, it has been a while since you’ve had any action.”

“George!”

“What? Your bedroom is across the hall from ours, it’s not like we wouldn’t know if you had a woman in, so to speak.”

“Fantastic. Things to remember if I ever hit on anyone ever again.” She sipped at her coffee. “Not that that seems likely anytime soon.”

“Ah, the dangers of living in a small town.” George nudged her with his shoulder. “Cheer up, Luce. Life isn’t that bad, is it?”

It wasn’t. She of all people should know that. She hadn’t exactly had the greatest life up until she moved to town. Now though, now things were going far better. She had money, a roof over her head, she was painting again.

“That canvas on the easel in the garage is pretty stunning,” George said, like he was reading her mind. “I peeked.”

“I told you not to.”

He shrugged. “It’s huge. I was curious. And anyway, it’s very good.”

“Let’s just hope it’s good enough.” She didn’t really want to think about it, didn’t want to jinx things.

“You’re more than good enough to… to do whatever this thing is.”

She grinned at him. “It’s a residency. They sort of pay you to sit around and paint. It’s only for a few weeks, but it’d mean being in London, meeting some important people.”

“Sounds amazing.”

“Sounds competitive,” she said. “And I probably won’t get it. But there’s no harm in trying.”

“And why can’t you be so optimistic about your dating life?” George asked, nudging her again so that she almost spilled her coffee.

Lucy looked out over the cool blue sea. “I know, I know.”

“You’re only, what, twenty seven?”

“I know,” she said again. “But sitting around watching you and Billy and Pen and Ash being all loved up, it just… It rubs it in a bit, I suppose.”

George laughed. “Luce, give things some time. You can’t force them to happen.”

“Especially when there’s not a single person in town of the right age or sexuality.”

“Maybe you should be more fluid,” George said. “You know, consider dating a few men, just for practice. Or dogs. I hear they’re pretty loyal.”

“I might just buy some cats and move into a shack by the sea and live out my days alone,” Lucy said.

George snorted. “You’d be bored. Besides, there’s no need to move out of here. Billy and I love having you here and the rent really helps out with the bills. We’re not throwing you out or anything.”

She hooked her arm through his. “I know. Thank you. You two are amazing.”

“And we don’t mean to rub things in your face,” said George. “I’m trying to be restrained, I swear. It’s just that every time I see Billy’s sweet baby face I want to kiss it off.”

“He doesn’t have a baby face.”

“Does so,” said George. There was a crashing sound from the kitchen. George grimaced. “He also has butter fingers. I’d better go and make sure everything’s alright.”

“Go on then.”

“You going to stay out here and dwell on how miserable and lonely life is?”

Lucy sniffed and checked her watch. “For another three minutes or so?”

“Sounds like a plan,” said George, going back into the kitchen.

Life wasn’t that bad. She knew that, deep inside. The problem was that she didn’t know if she was willing to settle for ‘not that bad’ when she could have ‘crazy in love’ like everyone else she knew.

Not that there were any prospects on the horizon.

Still, she thought, stretching her legs out in the evening sun, the summer was young, and Tetherington got plenty of tourists. Just because she didn’t have anyone yet didn’t mean she wouldn’t have someone soon.

A girlfriend by the end of the summer. That didn’t seem too much to ask, did it?