The Wedding Engagement

Chapter Four

Liv placed the plate of cookies she’d not long ago taken from the oven on the center of the kitchen table, inhaling their warm, scrummy scent. Eyeing the cookies, she tried to keep her hands, and mouth, off them. A glance at the clock confirmed that Arran should be there soon, eliciting a burst of butterflies in her tummy. She’d purposely made his favorite cookies for their weekend-away planning date. Not that it was a date, of course; their last and only one of those had not gone well at all.

Over the last couple of days, the thought of her brother’s wedding and the gathering of family had unexpectedly brought unwelcome memories to the fore, of the day that their dad had fucked off to Jersey with another woman. That event had come after his lying to their mum about his cheating for ages. In the end, all Liv had felt was relief to have him gone. But she’d been devastated for her mum. And for Sam, who’d always had more of a relationship with their dad—if you could call what was between them a relationship. It was more that Dave held Sam in higher esteem, being the son. Like he was some sort of trophy, with Liv as the third—unwanted—wheel.

The doorbell rang, cutting into her dark thoughts, and Liv shook her head in an effort to banish them. She headed to open the door, her pulse picking up at the sight of Arran in his soft, tan leather jacket. The color complemented the smooth, coppery tone of his sepia brown skin. He smiled, leaning in to perform their signature shake as he came into the house. “Hey, karate kid.” The smell of leather combined with his sweet and spicy natural scent drove her heart rate up another notch.

“Have you been baking?” he asked, his eyes widening. “It smells awesome.”

Liv raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to follow her to the kitchen. “I have indeed.”

Arran pulled off his jacket and Liv dragged her eyes from the flex of his arms. She lifted the teapot, raising her gaze to meet his. “Tea?”

“Yes, please,” he said, taking a seat and pushing two of the cups over for her. He took the milk jug and poured the perfect splash into hers. Just the way I like it. A fuzzy feeling warmed her chest.

He glanced at the plate of cookies, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Is it bad form to eat one before they’ve cooled?”

Liv dragged her eyes from his mouth to meet his eyes, trying to stop imagining how that tongue might feel on her lip. “Nah. I was thinking the same thing myself.”

“Excellent.” He rubbed his hands together and lifted two, passing her one of them. She pretended she couldn’t feel the zap of electricity when his fingers brushed hers.

Liv munched on her cookie, concentrating on the sugary goodness in order to banish illicit Arran-related images from her mind. “Any thoughts on what we were discussing the other day, about babysitting?”

He took a bite of his biscuit and licked his lips. Fucking hell. She couldn’t cope with all this lip licking. How come his performing such mundane activities was borderline pornographic to her? Never mind Christian Grey and his whips and chains; give her Arran Adebayo and a plate of crumbly cookies any day.

He ran a hand over his hair. “I know it was your idea, but I feel like I guilted you into suggesting it. I shouldn’t have been moaning about getting these portraits done on time. It’s a big commitment for you, even in the short term.”

“It’s only one day a month. Anyway, I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want to do it,” she said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I love spending time with Jayce, and I’d be delighted to help you get your portraits done.”

When he met her gaze, the warm honey of his eyes penetrated deep into her chest. “I don’t want to take advantage. Especially when you’ll be looking after him every day at nursery school soon.”

Liv opened her mouth to reply, but he held his hand up to silence her, a puzzled look on his face. “Did you hear that?” he asked.

Liv paused, listening. “What?”

“That noise,” he said, frowning. “I think it was the sound of the lesser spotted haggis.”

She arched an eyebrow. “The lesser spotted haggis?”

“Mmm.” His face was serious as he lifted his mug to take a seat at the table. “Even less common than the, er, more spotted haggis.”

She smiled affectionately at his asinine attempt to change the subject. She wished he’d stop being so reluctant to take on any help. Getting him to accept it sometimes felt like hitting one’s head against a brick wall.

Granted, if she could convince him, she’d need to be wary. She could hardly cope with watching the poor guy eat baked goods.

Arran blew on his tea, eyeing her. “Are we definitely good, after the David Tennant rendezvous?”

Her cheeks only heated slightly this time, so that was an improvement. “Yeah. We’re good.”

He nodded, then glanced away as he sipped his drink. “By the way, I need to point out that it wasn’t disappointment that made me swear when I saw you arrive.”

She looked at him as he met her gaze again, something squeezing in her chest. “No?”

He shook his head. “I was just…surprised is all.”

She smiled. “You and me both.”

He returned her expression. “Surprised to see you, and then surprised at the fact that you can lip-read.”

Liv laughed.

He ran a hand over his hair. “Seriously, though. I’d hate for you to think I’d ever be disappointed to see you, in any situation.”

A flicker of something flashed in her mind as she tried to parse his meaning.

His gaze grew more intense as he seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say next. Then his voice came out a little thick. “You looked beautiful. I should have told you that at the time.” He swallowed. “I mean, you look beautiful all the time, but particularly so that night. I don’t think I’ve seen you all dressed up before.”

Her heart was pulsing in her ears and she could swear that electricity was crackling in the small space between her and Arran. Was he trying to say that…he found her attractive? Her cheeks heated up to about a million degrees.

He glanced at her cheeks—no doubt because they must have been as red as a baboon’s bottom—and gave her a reassuring smile. “Anyhow. My point is, you scrub up well, mate.” He cleared his throat. “Right. Let’s get down to weekend-away planning business.”

Liv took a breath, disappointed and confused. She pushed her feelings aside and tried to focus. “I’m so glad Nico got that cottage.”

“I know,” Arran said, raising his eyebrows. “Proper posh. I thought a cottage on Skye would be all low ceilings and crumbling brick, not glass patios and sweeping terraces. But then Nico still mixes in all the big-shot-lawyer circles.”

Liv shrugged, smiling. “Friends in high places, that’s us.”

“Too right,” he replied, clinking his mug with hers. “Okay. Nico and Elise have done their part, and we get free rein on activity booking.”

Her pulse fired with excitement as she opened her laptop. “I’ve found a couple of things I think they’d love.”

Arran shifted his chair closer, his arm brushing hers and causing a tingling sensation to rush across her skin. She ignored it as she opened the web pages she’d bookmarked.

“I wonder if you’ve come up with the same stuff as me,” Arran murmured. She loved the smooth, deep sound of his voice. “Here,” she said, showing him what she’d come up with.

“I knew it.” He grinned as he studied the images. “I really want to go to the Fairy Pools too.”

A warm feeling soaked into her skin. “I figured we could take wet suits and have a swim.” She flicked through the pictures of the scenic Isle of Skye. The clear, glittering pools sparkled invitingly from the screen, with multiple cascades of misty falls pouring into them from the rocky face behind. “Sam and Maya will love it.”

“They will.” His honey eyes seemed to glow as he chuckled. “Hey, remember when we went with school, and Nico stripped off and skinny-dipped in there?”

She laughed, remembering the berating Nico got from the teacher and the open-mouthed drooling he’d received from all the girls.

“I also thought we could go to Neist Point,” Arran said, leaning over her to open a new page.

His scent filled her airways and she tried to ignore the resulting flip in her stomach. “Way ahead of you.” She moved on to the next tab, where Neist Point, the most westerly part of Skye, was pictured. The narrow strip of green land fell off into sharp cliffs as it greeted the dark blue sea, a white lighthouse standing proudly at the edge of the last step of land, looking out over the Atlantic.

“Great minds,” Arran said softly.

Chancing a glance, she allowed herself a long moment to get lost in the golden tone of his eyes. “Yep. We’re dialed in to the same frequency.”

He held her gaze for a moment, smiling. Then he cleared his throat and eased away. “I’ll draw up an itinerary and email it to you.”

“Cool,” she replied, shifting in her seat and mourning the loss of his body heat. “Nico said we could borrow Alessia’s minivan. We’ll get all eight of us in there.”

“Eight?” he said, sipping his tea. “I thought there were nine of us.”

She shook her head. “Maya’s uni mate Kirsty can’t make it. She’s got a nasty fracture dislocation of her thumb.”

“Oof.” He winced. “How’d she do that?”

Liv tried to keep a straight face. Kirsty’s pain was no laughing matter. “Flushing the toilet.”

Arran nearly spat out his tea. “ What? Are you joking?”

A chuckle escaped Liv’s lips. “Nope. She was pissed and went to press the button-flush mechanism with her thumb. But the drink must’ve affected her coordination because she hit it awkwardly.”

Clearly trying to hold in his laughter, Arran kept a straight face. “Wow. She must have hit that thing hard. She was trying to rage against the latrine.”

Another snort of laughter slipped out of her mouth. “Poor thing. Apparently, she appeared a little flushed afterward.”

His straight face slipped into a grin. “She needed a superhero to come to her rescue. Maybe Flush Gordon.”

At that point Liv let the giggles out, grabbing Arran’s shoulder as he dissolved into laughter with her. Friends who shared her love of silliness were her favorite people.

Eventually the laughter died down and she realized she was still gripping his biceps. The sensation of the hard plane of muscle beneath her fingers caused the blood to rush faster through her veins, so she hastily dropped her hand.

Just then, Arran’s phone began to ring.

He lifted it to answer. “Hey.” There was a pause as he listened to whoever was on the other end, and his smile morphed into a frown. “Oh, right. Yeah. Yeah, I suppose so. Okay, that’s fine. Drop him off on your way.”

Liv fingered her cup, watching him with a slightly anxious feeling. “Bye,” Arran said, hanging up. He leaned back, lifting his mug. “Jess needs me to have Jayce on Saturday. Something about a get-together at the boyfriend’s brother’s house.” His brow remained furrowed, not an expression he often sported.

“What about completing the portrait you’re working on?” Liv asked, her concern mounting.

He sighed, fiddling with his phone, whose lock screen displayed an adorable photo of him smiling with a grinning Jayce on his lap. “Maybe I can pull another all-nighter.”

Liv gave him a hard stare. “I’m coming over to sit for Jayce this Saturday.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she lifted her hand, placing her index finger on his lips, then regretting it as a bolt of fire burst in her belly. “Shh. Fingers on lips,” she said, using her best teacher voice. He smiled under her touch, his stubble gently scratching her finger and making her skin tingle.

She dropped her hand. “It’s happening, Arran. So just go with it.”

He was silent for a moment, the muscles in his jaw working, and she knew she’d won. “I’ll pay you for it,” he said, his voice a little gruff.

She raised her eyebrows. “No, you will not. Friends don’t charge each other for favors.”

“Feels like you’re always the one doing me favors, not the other way around,” he said quietly.

She shrugged. “You can return the gesture one day. Maybe I’ll eventually have a kid for you to babysit.”

His brow briefly furrowed, but then relaxed when he smiled. “Of course.” He cleared his throat. “Is it definitely okay, with you becoming his teacher?”

She nodded. “It’s fine. The nursery school is small enough that we often get kids we know or are even related to in the classes.” It was apparent by the look on his face that she’d won him over. She lifted her mug to clink with his. “Do we have a deal?”

“Okay,” he replied, clinking back. “Deal. Thank you. But this weekend only.”

She smiled as she sipped her tea. That’s what you think.