The Wedding Engagement

Chapter Six

The tearoom door gave its familiar jingle as she opened it, then glanced around for Maya and Elise. She spotted them waving from their usual table in the back corner.

“Good morrow, Miss M and Miss E. How are you this fine evening?” She hung her jacket on the back of one of the tartan-clad French-style chairs and took a seat.

“We are very well, thank you, Miss O,” Maya said, placing a scone on a plate and handing it over. “I’m afraid the tearoom is out of strawberry preserves; they have only raspberry available.” Maya rolled the r in raspberry and popped her lips on the p , drawing a smile from Liv. Maya pursed her lips. “I’m afraid it just won’t do.”

Elise shook her head, smiling as she sipped her tea. She never joined in with their Austenesque routine, but it always made her smile. And making Elise smile was an extra-special thing these days.

The frilly-pinny-clad waitress didn’t even bother coming to take their order nowadays; she practically had it ready for them prior to their arrival every Wednesday evening. A massive plateful of scones and a pot of Earl Grey. Milk for Liv and Maya, and lemon for Elise.

“Right,” Maya said, pouring Liv a cup from the flowery teapot. “Down to business.”

A flare of excitement fired through Liv’s veins. This must be the moment when Maya was going to ask for assistance with the wedding planning.

Maya lifted her cup with an air of authority. “So. About you and Arran.”

Liv’s mouth fell open for a split second, then she clamped it shut again, her excitement fizzling out like the proverbial bonfire being pissed upon. “There is no business where that’s concerned.”

Elise raised her eyebrows. “Really? Even after the whole arrangement to cozy up every Saturday night?”

Liv scowled. “It’s not every Saturday. And I only managed to get him to accept my help last weekend as a one-off.”

Liv did her best to hide her inner turmoil over Arran from her best friends. There was no denying how she felt about him. She’d always found him attractive, but he’d been with Jess for years and prior to that had had a string of girlfriends, so there hadn’t been anything she could’ve done about it. Now he was single but still hung up on his ex and had sworn off relationships.

But that suited her, didn’t it? Just because she was attracted to him didn’t mean she wanted anything to happen between them. Granted, her traitorous heart had leapt when he’d asked her to stay for dinner, and she wasn’t convinced she’d done a good job of hiding that—she’d practically stirred the pot she’d been tending off the hob. How come the sight of a hot man leaning against a doorframe, arms folded, was enough to drive womankind into a frenzy? And when it was a man she’d admired for years, despite his oblivious nature, it made the heat all the more acute.

He’d only ever seen her as his best friend’s sister. And nowadays, even though he might view her as a close friend in her own right, that was where the line was drawn. The memory of the intensity in his eyes when he’d told her how beautiful she’d looked on their blind date surfaced, and a seed of doubt sowed itself in the back of her mind.

She blinked. “Even so, there’s nothing cozy about it. I don’t see much of him because he’s painting in the studio when I’m over there. Plus, he’s always given me very strong ‘we’re just friends’ vibes.”

Elise spread some jam on her scone. “I have noticed that he talks a lot about wanting to be on his own.”

“Precisely,” Liv said, wielding her scone as a means of emphasis, then taking a bite. God, this scone was good. It almost went some way to consoling her malfunctioning, divided heart.

Maya was frowning from behind her cream-and-jam-laden scone. Liv eyed her choice of cream application prior to the jam through narrowed eyes. Everyone knew the jam went on first, for goodness’ sake.

“If there’s nothing cozy going on, then why are you wearing his T-shirt?” Maya asked, her tone decidedly smug.

Glancing down at the offending green T-shirt, Liv wasn’t sure what to say. She shouldn’t have continued to wear it after he’d lent it to her, but she hadn’t been able to resist. Especially when it smelled of him. For God’s sake. I’m a living contradiction. I don’t want to want him, but I do. “How do you know it’s his?”

Maya arched an eyebrow. “Apart from the fact that it’s massive on you? Because it’s his favorite one.”

Liv shot her a dead eye.

Elise was wearing a wry smile, clearly not convinced either.

Liv sighed. “Anyway. There’s a perfectly innocent explanation behind it. And one that cements the fact that he doesn’t feel anything romantic toward me. Jayce soaked me when he was in the bath, so Arran lent me this shirt while mine dried. Then I forgot to change back.”

“How does that cement anything?” Elise asked, passing Liv another scone.

“You should have seen Arran’s face,” Liv replied, heat rising in her cheeks as she remembered how repelled he’d seemed. “There I was, my top soaked to the point of transparency, and he wouldn’t even look at me.” She let out another sigh, hoping they’d see it as her being the poor pining woman, rather than the product of her being at odds with herself. “If he fancied me even a tiny bit, surely there would have been some brief glance of interest at that point.” Perhaps like the glimpse of appreciation she’d seen when he’d told her she was beautiful? Unless she’d imagined it. He had been quick to change the subject, after all.

To take her mind off the situation, Liv topped her scone, jam first, then pointed at it with the knife in a passive-aggressive manner for Maya’s benefit, who stuck her tongue out in defiance.

Elise studied her, a soft expression on her face. Liv could tell she was tuning in to her feelings using her doctor radar. “And you’ve continued to wear the shirt after the fact, because you like that it’s his.”

Liv’s pulse picked up, and she broke eye contact. That was true. It was as much of him as she would allow herself to have. “Yeah. I know it’s a bit sad and more than a tad stalkery.”

Elise gave her arm a quick squeeze.

“No, it’s not,” Maya said, smiling. “Anyway, it suits you. Brings out your lovely eyes.”

“Thanks.” Liv took a massive bite of her scone so that she wouldn’t have to speak again for a bit. It was apparent that both of her best friends had resigned themselves to the fact that she was some sort of lovelorn fool. She should try to explain how she really felt, but the problem with her and relationships was so complex that she couldn’t even explain it to herself. The throwback of having an arsehole father who abandoned us without a second thought. In any case, burdening those around her with her negative thoughts and feelings wasn’t fair.

Maya was giving her a sympathetic look. “This brings me back to my proposition.”

Frowning, Liv met her eye. “Proposition?”

Maya nodded. “The Brodie proposition.”

She’d forgotten all about Maya’s suggestion from the previous week. Instinctively, she opened her mouth to say no. But then she hesitated.

Perhaps it would be a good idea. A casual date, to put her friends off all this matchmaking crap with Arran. And this time, she’d actually know whom she was meeting. She could go on a date with Brodie and have a laugh, and that’d be it. Perhaps it would turn into a casual fling; she could manage that. Her relationship with Dean had been her longest and most serious, but it still hadn’t gotten past six months. That had been a couple of years after their dad had buggered off to Jersey without warning.

Remembering the hurtful words Dean had fired at her back then still made her wince. Nowadays she kept her relationships much shorter.

Her heart told her that she was ready for something more. And yet it also told her to be wary. It wasn’t a conscious thing; it didn’t even feel like that heart-versus-head thing that people banged on about. The opposing views were both emotional, not logical. They both came from her heart, hence her viewing that particular organ as divided and treacherous. It ached for Arran, and yet gave her palpitations of terror whenever she imagined the two of them being in any sort of relationship other than platonic.

Liv was jealous of people who’d found a relationship they could trust in forever. She wanted it, and yet she was terrified of it in equal measure, and she couldn’t understand how anyone got past that fear. Hence her preoccupation with the beautiful portrait woman and her doting husband.

As much as she played up the jokes to their friends about being the terminally single one, and being on the lookout for her Mr. Darcy, the truth was that was a smoke screen. A committed relationship was something she had actively avoided up until now, and perhaps that was partly because the Hollands had a seriously shit record where relationships were concerned. Their mum had been with their emotionally abusive father for years before he finally did them all a favor and buggered off with a younger woman. In the end, none of them harbored any ill feeling toward his new girlfriend; they just felt sorry for her because the curtain was bound to lift at some point, and then the poor woman would realize what a royal twat the guy was.

Not long after their father left, Sam had taken up with a girlfriend who had, to all intents and purposes, turned out to be the female version of their arsehole father—something it took them all, Sam especially, a long time to figure out. All that familial trauma had well and truly put Liv off relationships, and she had avoided anything but casual dating.

In effect, she and her twin brother had opposite reactions to their abandonment issues. Sam had jumped right into a very long-term relationship, and Liv had avoided commitment entirely. That Sam’s relationship had turned out to be with someone with personality flaws similar to their dad’s had made Liv more determined that her way was the right way.

Fair enough, now their mum had Angus and Sam was with Maya and both of them were the best things to ever happen to her mum and her brother. But something deep down inside still held her back. Something that made her stomach churn whenever she contemplated a serious relationship.

An intrusive memory surfaced of her paternal grandmother, Agnes, talking to her when Liv was eight.

“Sammy is your mother’s spitting image. But you’re so much like your father, Livvy. You look just like him when he was your age! Same dark hair and green eyes. And you know what? You’re exactly like him in temperament too.”

Liv shuddered at the memory. It had been the first time that she could clearly remember her grandmother commenting on the resemblance, but certainly not the last. And every time it had made her stomach roil—even before she was old enough to realize why. She met Maya’s eyes, realizing she needed to give a response about Brodie. She might as well say she was up for the idea, to get Maya off her back. “See what he thinks. And if he goes for the idea, then I’ll ask him out.”

A big grin spread across Maya’s face and she performed a small, tearoom-appropriate fist pump. “Excellent.”

“Anyway,” Liv said, keen to get the heat off her love life. “What about the wedding stuff? How’s it going?”

Maya winced. “You know what? It turns out there’s a lot to organize.”

Elise was smiling behind her cup.

“I know we said that we only needed help organizing the weekend away,” Maya continued. “But there’s so much to do in such a small amount of time. I thought we could just go with the bare minimum, but Mum and Dad are determined that we’re going to have all of the frills.”

Liv smiled. “Need some help?”

Maya looked like she was about to collapse with relief. “Would that be okay? I wondered whether we might contract out some of the jobs to our trusty band of best women and men.”

“Of course,” Elise said.

“Phew,” Maya said. She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, who knew that wedding planning was so much work?”

Elise laughed. “Don’t worry. We can help.”

“Absolutely,” Liv replied. “Just say the word, and we’re on it.”

Maya sighed contentedly. “Cool. I’ll check with Sam and we’ll see what needs delegating.”

—

Folding Arran’s shirt, Liv mourned its impending loss. But she’d had it for more than a week and it was his favorite one; she couldn’t hold on to it forever, and so she was reluctantly planning to drop it off to him. At least it was an excuse to see him. The doorbell rang and she headed down the hall to answer it, her mind full of thoughts of Arran. When she opened it and found the man himself standing on the other side, she about collapsed. He was doing that bloody sexy leaning-in-the-doorway-with-his-arms-folded thing again. For goodness’ sake, did he not realize the aphrodisiac nature of that stance?

“Hey,” he said, and the sound of that one syllable had electricity zipping up her spine.

“Hey yourself,” she said, clearing her throat when her voice came out a little scratchy. “Come in.” He passed by her into the hallway, giving her a lungful of his heavenly scent.

She closed the door and led him into the kitchen, gesturing for him to take a seat at the breakfast bar. “What brings you by?”

He obliged, removing his jacket. Liv’s gaze traced the outline of the muscles contracting in his arms as he worked it off and hung it on the back of the chair.

“I just wanted to give you something,” he told her.

“Oh?” she said, distracted by the biceps display.

He shot her a grin and for a moment she thought he’d caught her ogling. Then he whipped something out of his jacket pocket, holding it out to her.

She grasped the rod-shaped object, trying to focus on it instead of Arran’s arms. Her brain finally managed to compute what she was seeing, and she broke out into a grin. “Oh my God! A sonic screwdriver!”

He nodded, a satisfied expression on his face. “Yep.”

Liv turned it over in her hands, taking in the silver body and bright blue light at the top. To be precise, it was the tenth Doctor’s (aka David Tennant’s) sonic screwdriver. “Awesome,” she whispered.

During their blind date she’d confessed that she’d love one of the sonic screwdrivers. He’d told her that he’d get one for her birthday, but it wasn’t even her birthday yet.

She blinked, moved by his gesture. It wasn’t a high-value gift, but it meant something that he’d remembered and thought to get it for her. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him on his stool.

He froze for a split second, then quickly reached his arms around her waist, pulling her between his legs and close to his chest. She pressed her face into his neck and allowed herself a deep breath, fueling a kick in her pulse.

Arran trailed a hand up her spine and she couldn’t suppress a shudder of desire. His chest was hard against the softness of her breasts and his skin smooth where she rested her cheek upon it. The sensation of him created a thick, syrupy-sweet desire that heated her core and pooled low into her belly, making her lady parts tingle.

“Thank you,” she said, reluctant to let him go. “But it isn’t even my birthday yet.”

She forced herself to draw back and rest her hands on his shoulders as she looked into the warmth of his gaze. His hands shifted onto her hips, electrifying every nerve ending along the way.

“I know,” he said, giving her a loaded look. Loaded with what, she couldn’t quite tell. The touch of his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly, and for a moment she imagined herself on top of him, his strong hands gripping her hips as she rode him, hard. Her breath caught in her throat as the blood rushed faster through her veins.

“I wanted to give it to you early, as a thank-you.” he said, his eyes intense as he slowly circled his thumbs over her hip bones. Her skin prickled with delicious sensitivity, sending her nipples into hard peaks.

“A thank-you?” she managed to get out, her voice husky.

“Mmm,” he said, his gaze dropping to her mouth for a split second. “For babysitting.”

“It was my pleasure,” she said, unintentionally drawing out the word pleasure as very pleasurable sensations thrummed from the touch of his fingers down into her core. She shifted, heat pulsing between her legs. In that moment she knew, with absolute certainty, that Arran would be amazing in bed. And she wanted him more than ever. But this time it feels as if he wants me too. She remembered the little seed of doubt she’d experienced the day before with Maya and Elise, when thinking that he saw her only as a friend. The little seed that had first been planted when he’d told her she was beautiful.

Arran’s phoned buzzed loudly with a message, cutting into her reverie. She dropped her hands, taking a step back. Arran released his hold but didn’t take his eyes off her.

“You can, er, you can get that if you want,” she told him, feeling a little light-headed.

He swallowed. “I’ll check it later.”

Liv held her sonic screwdriver to her chest. “I love it. Thank you. But you didn’t need to get me anything. I was happy to hang out with Jayce. And you.”

“I know,” he said, shooting her a soft smile. “But I like doing things for you. You’re always there for everyone else. I want you to know you’re appreciated.”

Warmth flooded her chest, creeping up to heat her cheeks. She dragged her eyes from his perfect face and moved around the counter to grab his T-shirt from where she’d left it lying on the kitchen side. “Here you go. I was going to bring it over, but now you’re here. So…”

He eyed it for a moment, wearing an odd expression. “Nah. I’ve decided you can keep it. It looks better on you.”

Liv hesitated. She really wanted to keep it but didn’t want to come across as really wanting to keep it. “You sure?”

Nodding, he glanced away, then smacked his palm onto his forehead. “Shit. I forgot to bring your shirt. It’s still on my radiator.” Another odd expression passed over his face. As if he felt guilty about something.

He rubbed his palms on his jeans-clad thighs. “Anyhow. You did me a solid with the babysitting gig, because the money from that portrait really boosted my savings pot.”

“Oh yeah?” she said. “Saving for something in particular?”

“Yeah,” he said, shooting her a self-conscious look. “I’m saving to go traveling.”

Liv remembered the details from his BlindLove profile, that he was interested in travel. It wasn’t something they’d discussed before. “That’s brilliant!”

The self-conscious expression melted from his face as he smiled broadly. “I feel a bit dumb saying it, when so far the farthest I’ve traveled is a package holiday to Benidorm. But I really want to go to Japan.”

“Oh God, yes,” she said, eagerly leaning on the counter. “I want to go in May and see the blossoms.”

His smile widened. “Me too. I’d love to paint them.”

Liv’s excitement about overflowed. “That would be amazing. You’d do such a brilliant job.” She was so proud of his talent; he was genuinely gifted.

He ran a hand over his hair, an adorable blush about his cheeks. “I haven’t mentioned it to many people, except Jess—because I’d like to take Jayce when the time comes. I felt like everyone would think it a pipe dream, or, worse, that I wouldn’t be able to pull it off, and then I’d lose face.” He winced. “I made the mistake of briefly mentioning the idea to my mum a few years back and she was like, ‘Ach, yer total Dundee United. What do you need to go to Japan to look at blossoms for? Just plonk yer arse down in ma garden and paint ma cherry tree.’?”

Liv chuckled. Arran did a pretty accurate impression of his mum. “Why did she call you a ‘Dundee United’?”

“It’s a Nigerian insult meaning idiot, which Mum enthusiastically embraced from Dad. Mainly to use on me.” Arran rolled his eyes affectionately. “Apparently it came about after Dundee United Football Club had a disastrous tour in West Africa in the 1970s and ended up looking like complete fools.”

Liv smiled. “I think I’m going to adopt it as my favorite insult too.”

He brushed his fingers over the back of her hand, giving her goose bumps. “I knew you’d get it, about Japan and the May blossoms. You always do.”

He held her gaze and she felt as if she might melt. Mesmerized by his eyes, she didn’t really think properly before speaking. “Perhaps we can go together one day.” Immediately, she regretted saying that. It was too forward.

But before she could take it back, Arran closed his hand around hers, giving her a squeeze. “I’d love that.” He smiled. “We could see if we could find your mentor, Mr. Miyagi.”

She laughed, then clutched her stomach when the brief action caused her abdominals to go into spasm. “Don’t make me laugh. My abs are sore from my last karate class.”

He shrugged, smiling. “It’s an extra workout for us. Who needs crunches?”

“You don’t need a workout. You’ve already got killer abs,” she said before she could stop herself.

Raising an eyebrow, he studied her. “How do you know?”

She removed her hand from under his to push her glasses up her nose, heat rising in her face. “From last summer when you, Sam, and Nico were lugging the stuff for your studio conversion around with your tops off.” And also from just now when they were pressed against my stomach and I imagined scraping my nails down them. She cleared her throat. “You bunch of posers.”

“Hey. It was hot.” He leaned back. “Anyway, you don’t need the workout either. Some killer abs of your own there, karate kid.”

Liv dipped her head to peer at him over the top of her glasses, covering the fact that her pulse was racing as a result of this conversation regarding each other’s bodies. “And how, pray tell, would you know that? I for one do not parade around with my top off.”

He seemed to swallow a little hard, opening his mouth to speak, then shutting it when his phone buzzed again. He lifted it to study the screen, his face falling.

Frowning, she eyed the shift in his demeanor. “What is it?”

With a sigh, he pocketed the phone again. “It’s Jess. She was going to have Jayce this weekend, but she says something’s come up.”

She studied him. “You finished your painting. So doesn’t that mean you can have the time with Jayce?”

He rubbed his forehead. “I got another project lined up. A big one, and I was banking on getting the hours in this weekend.” He fiddled with his phone. “I don’t like saying no to commissions when I’m still in the process of building my reputation.”

“Ah. I see.” She paused to look at him. “And you don’t like saying no to time with Jayce, nor when Jess needs you.”

An unreadable look passed over his face, and he nodded in confirmation.

The urge to offer to help was too strong to resist. “I’ll come over again.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not two weekends in a row. You should be enjoying yourself. And last weekend was only meant to be a one-off.”

“If I had something else on, then I wouldn’t offer,” she said. “I like spending time with Jayce.” She grinned. “And I suppose you’re okay too. In small doses, obvs.”

Arran laughed. “You’re not so bad yourself.” His smile faded as he met her eyes. He hesitated for a few seconds, and she could see his mind working. His need not to let anyone down—Jayce, Jess, his clients—battling with his pride over accepting assistance. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be the d-bag who takes advantage.”

Rolling her eyes, she lifted her mug. “It’s not taking advantage. Now, stop fussing and drink your tea.”

He swallowed hard, then nodded, taking a silent sip.

Liv eyed him for a second. “Has Sam spoken to you?”

Arran glanced up. “About what?”

“Wedding stuff. Asking us to help with the planning.”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

She hesitated. “You okay with it?”

He nodded. “Sure.” But his voice didn’t carry its usual carefree tone.

Liv touched his hand. “You don’t have to take it on. I’ll manage, with Elise and Nico’s help.”

Arran paused, then put down his mug, shaking his head. “Nah. Elise has got enough to worry about, and nobody wants Nico the wedding-phobe organizing anything. It’d be a quick exchange of vows at the local registry office, then everyone dismissed.”

Liv laughed.

He shot her a genuine smile. “I’ll be fine. I want to help. And in any case, if we do it together it’ll be more fun.”

Her heart warmed as she met his eyes. “Yeah. It will be.”

He lifted his mug to clink with hers. “To our engagement.”

She paused, eyebrows raised. “Engagement?”

He gave her a wink. “Yeah. Our engagement as wedding planners.”

“Ah, I see,” she replied, concentrating on her tea to stop her imagination from running wild with thoughts of the lucky woman who got to enjoy an actual engagement to Arran.