The Wedding Engagement

Chapter Eight

“Here you go, sweetheart,” Angus said, pouring Liv some tea from a flowery teapot that seemed tiny in his large, calloused hands. The overtly feminine nature of the pot made Angus appear even more masculine, which was a difficult task when he was already a stocky, six-foot hulk of a bloke.

“Thanks,” Liv said, pouring in a bit of milk and taking a sip. She shot him an impressed look. “Not bad. You’re moving away from builder’s tea to Olivia Holland tea very nicely.”

Angus gave her a two-fingered salute. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m learning from the best.”

Liv’s mum joined them at the kitchen table, giving Angus a kiss on the cheek as she accepted her mug from him. “Thanks, love.”

The doorbell rang and Angus left to answer it, and when he returned to the kitchen, he had Sam and Maya in tow. They exchanged hugs and kisses with her, Tara, and Angus, and all took a seat around the table with mugs of tea.

Liv took a moment to absorb the fact that the Holland unit of three had rapidly expanded to five over the course of a few months. And she loved it.

“Where are you at with the wedding planning?” Tara asked.

“The big things are done,” Sam replied, glancing at Maya. “Wedding venue sorted. Reception booked. Registrar booked.”

“We’ve still got a lot to do with all the other stuff, though,” Maya said. “Band, photographer, cake, flowers…”

“What about your dress, Maya?” Tara asked. “And the outfits for Liv and Elise?”

“I wanted to ask you about that,” Maya replied. “I’ve got an appointment booked at the place I want to buy our dresses. They’ll be off-the-rack because time’s too short for fittings and all that jazz. But anyway, I thought you and my mum could come too?”

Liv eyed the look of delight on her mother’s face with a smile. “I would absolutely love that,” Tara said. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Maya flopped her hand down in an “It’s nothing” gesture. “Wouldn’t be the same without you, Mama Holland.”

Tara’s eyes shone and Liv’s heart was fit to burst. She squeezed Maya’s knee, catching her eye and mouthing, I love you . Maya mouthed, I love you too , and made a heart shape with her fingers.

Sam caught them, a smile playing on his face. “You’d better not be trying to steal my fiancée, sis.”

Liv shrugged, sipping her tea. “She was mine way before she was yours, dude.”

Maya nodded in a solemn manner. “Olivia is correct, Samuel.” Sam leaned in to nuzzle Maya’s neck, making her let out an involuntary squeal. “Hey, that tickles.”

Sam pulled Maya into his chest so that she was nestled under his chin as he addressed Liv. “How’re the plans coming along for our trip?”

“Awesome, thank you, dear brother.” She peered at him over the top of her glasses. “No fishing for details, now.”

He shook his head, flashing her a grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I love surprises.”

Maya played with Sam’s fingers. “I like good surprises. Like, surprise! Here’s a cool present. Not—surprise! Here’s a massive bill you forgot to pay.”

Liv pursed her lips. “Arran and I are hardly going to organize you shitty surprises, now, are we?”

“Good point,” Maya said, giving her a wink.

“By the way,” Sam said, “how’s Arran doing? I’ve been a bit worried about him helping organize stuff for our wedding when this time last year, I was helping him with his. He says he’s fine when I ask him, but then he can hardly say, ‘No, my fucking heart is breaking, you insensitive piece of shit.’?”

Angus snorted with laughter across the table and Tara gave Sam a wry smile that clearly read “Language, Samuel.”

“Sorry, Mother,” he said, turning back to Liv. “Anyway. You guys are tight these days, so I figured he might’ve told you something.”

Liv cleared her throat. “Yeah, we’re good friends.” She put an extra emphasis on the word friends as she shot Maya a look. “And I’ve asked him about it. Don’t worry, he’s cool. He’s so happy for you guys it eclipses any residual sadness.”

Sam sighed. “I love that dude.” He glanced down at Maya. “If things ever go south for us, I’m definitely coupling up with Arran.”

Maya frowned. “I don’t think Nico would be very happy about that.”

“Hmm, good point,” Sam replied, rubbing his beard. “We might need to make it a house for three. Golden Girls–style.”

“Golden Guys,” Angus commented. “Can I join in and be Sophia?”

“Sure thing,” Sam said, raising his mug to Angus and receiving a clink in return.

Tara shook her head. “It must have been so tough for Arran. Poor boy.”

“Yeah.” Sam tugged Maya a little closer. “He was in a bad way for a while. To be honest I’ve avoided Jess ever since, I was so mad with her.”

That comment needled a sore point in Liv’s psyche and her mouth started moving before she could bite her tongue. “What was she meant to do? Marry him knowing she didn’t love him anymore, so they could both make each other miserable till the day they died?”

There was a beat of silence, and a stab of regret pierced her at having spoken her mind. Sam was watching her with a frown. “Well. When you put it like that.”

Liv puffed out a breath, the need to speak up overriding her usual self-censorship. “I’m sick of everyone acting like a woman’s place is to get dumped. Like, she mustn’t dare be the one to end things, but to know her place and only be ‘let out’ of a relationship when the man decides. Jess had no control over her feelings; none of us do. It just happened to her and so she had to be true to herself for both their sakes. You didn’t choose to love Maya, did you? It just happened.”

The words had come pouring out like steam from a pressure cooker. An inevitable outcome, really, when she kept everything simmering inside until her thoughts reached the boiling point and then erupted like red-hot lava as soon as a tiny nudge cracked her facade and provided an outlet.

But as she surveyed the surprised expressions around the table, the stab of regret amplified into a painful guilt. The heaviness of it dragged at her insides, swelling in her stomach like a sickening bubble.

She met her mum’s eyes, registering the inevitable disapproval there. “Watch your temper, Liv.” A flash of anger singed her guilt to a crisp. As usual, her mother disapproved of Liv’s expressing any kind of opinion that wasn’t one hundred percent rainbows and unicorns. Whereas if her brother did the same, then that was fine—he was just being honest and truthful.

Liv pressed her lips together, burying any further retorts.

Maya saved her with a nod. “I agree with Liv.” She shot Sam a smile. “Your little sister just owned you,” she told him.

“You know what?” Sam said with a shrug. “I actually feel sorry for Jess. You’re right that she couldn’t help falling out of love with Arran. And now she can’t help falling in love with a twat.”

“What do you mean?” Liv asked, anxiety rising.

“He’s the kind who’ll boast to any guy he meets about how he plays around behind his girlfriend’s back. Total small-dick-energy kind of deal. At least, that’s how he always was in the past.” He sipped his tea. “Though you never know. Maybe he’ll be different with Jess.”

Tara shook her head. “A leopard never changes its spots. That’s a lesson I know Georgie will have learned.”

Liv shuddered at the mention of anything related to their father. “Small-dick energy all over,” she muttered. Maya shot her a sympathetic smile.

“Anyhow,” Sam addressed Liv. “I’m glad you’re looking after my best mate while I’m busy with the wedding stuff.” Sam gave her a sly glance. “Is there anything more than friendship going on between you and Arran?”

Liv raised her eyebrow at Maya.

“Hey,” Maya said, holding her hands up. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve said nothing.”

Sam smiled. “You’d have my blessing, you know, if you want to get it on with my bestie. That’s what I’ve done with yours. It’s tit for tat.” His smile spread into a grin. “So to speak.”

“Ugh.” Liv rolled her eyes. “Please shut the eff up.”

Sam laughed. “You can swear in front of Mum and Angus, by the way. They already know all the four-letter words.”

Liv tried to reach around Maya to punch Sam’s arm, but he dodged out of the way too fast.

“You effing suck,” she muttered, giving Sam her iciest death stare while simultaneously feeling guilty that she hadn’t confided in her twin about her feelings for his best friend, nor the mixed-up reasons why she didn’t want to act on those feelings. Especially with her recent promise to him to always tell him everything, after his awful ex Catriona had come between them for the past several years. But after such a long time of protecting Sam from her woes, old habits were proving to die hard.

She shot Maya a quick glance. Perhaps she should try to be honest with Maya about it, but it wasn’t fair to ask Maya to keep secrets from her fiancé.

Tara cleared her throat. “While we’re on the vague subject of your father, I want to ask whether you’d like to invite him to the wedding.”

There was a few seconds’ silence and Liv felt the blood drain from her face. She took in Sam’s expression and knew, even without a mirror, that she must be wearing the exact same horrified look.

Sam’s jaw was tight. “He’s not our father. He gave up the right to be called that years ago.”

“I just wanted to ask,” Tara said, reaching over to squeeze Sam’s hand. “It’s up to you and Maya. You have my blessing either way.”

Liv held her breath, wanting to speak up and say her piece—that there was no way that dickhead should be allowed anywhere near her brother’s wedding. But then she glanced at her mother, remembering her stern words from earlier. “Watch your temper, Liv.” Instead, she crossed her fingers and willed Sam to say what she wanted to hear, suppressing the need to speak up until it created an almost painful pressure in her chest.

Sam swallowed. “That’s thoughtful of you, Mum. But the only parents I want there are you and Angus, and Omar and Yvonne.”

Liv let out a breath of relief, darting her gaze over to Angus, who was wearing a visibly moved expression.

“Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you want,” Tara replied with a soft smile.

Maya leaned into Sam and kissed his cheek, and Liv eased back into her chair, thanking the heavens that Sam had vetoed that awful idea.

“So, Miss O,” Maya said, giving her a nudge. “I’ve got the green light from Brodie about that date. What say you?”

Tension was infused back into Liv’s shoulders. Can’t I get a bloody break? But Maya meant well. And it was her own fault, really, for not being more honest about her feelings.

She tried to think of an excuse, but then it occurred to her: If she agreed to meet Brodie, not only would it get Maya off her back about the relationship thing; it would also enhance her smoke screen of being on the lookout for love. Plus, it’d stop everyone from going on about her and Arran all the time.

She could meet with Brodie, have a laugh, tell him she wasn’t up for a relationship at the moment, and that would be that. Perhaps she could even spin it that Brodie wasn’t interested in her and that she was disappointed about it. Genius. “Yeah, sounds great. Give me his number and I’ll text him.”

Maya gave her a satisfied smile and Liv was relieved that it might mean a bit of peace where her love life was concerned. “Back to wedding business,” she told the happy couple. “You need to tell us all what tasks we’re taking on so we can divide and conquer.”

Maya appeared a little relieved. “Thank you. If you all don’t mind, I thought we could give one task each to you all in pairs so that you aren’t having to choose stuff on your own. Tara, would you and Angus be in charge of flowers if I tell you the color scheme and budget?”

Tara nodded. “We’d love it. And I have a good friend with an excellent florist business.”

Maya grinned. “Awesome.”

Sam reached around Maya to shove Liv’s shoulder. “And we thought we’d get Nico and Elise to pick a photographer, and you and Arran the band.”

Liv raised her eyebrows. “The band? I feel that’s quite a big responsibility. Sure you don’t mind me being in charge of that, bro?”

Sam shrugged. “Your taste in music is way better than mine anyway.”

Liv straightened, a smile on her face. “Attention, everyone! Please note that my brother has finally admitted to my superior taste in music.” She got to her feet as if making a solemn speech, hands clasped in front of her. “Let this historical moment go down in the Glenavie annals of time. Forever to be remembered on this day, and celebrated by adults and children alike—”

She was cut short as Sam stood to give her another playful shove, and then she shoved him back.

“Now, now,” Maya said loudly, holding her hands up to them both. “That’s quite enough. Play nicely, please.”

Liv shot Sam a grin, which he returned, and they both sat down again.

“In all seriousness,” Liv said, “I’d be delighted to sort out the music. And I’m sure Arran will be too.”

Sam’s grin fell a little. “Watch out for him, will you? I don’t want to put him in any awkward positions or make him feel bad.”

Liv shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’ve got his back.”

—

Agnes’s voice rang out in answer to Arran’s knock. “Who is it?”

“Your friendly neighborhood delivery guy,” he called through the letterbox.

It was the same routine they went through every week, even when he always came round with her shopping on a Sunday evening. He kept telling her to get a key safe so that trusted people could be given a code to retrieve the key and let themselves in, but she was too stubborn to accept. It had taken him long enough to convince her to let him shop for her.

He could hear her shuffling on the other side of the door, undoing the battery of locks she had installed. He smiled fondly as he patiently waited for her to complete the task.

She opened the door a crack, the chain still on, and eyed him suspiciously through the gap. She never trusted fully that it was him until she laid her myopic eyes on him through the safety of the tiny gap in the door.

He gave her a wink and her face crinkled in a happy smile. The door closed, followed by the sound of the chain coming off before it opened to reveal Agnes’s soft features. Her blue eyes twinkled. “Hi, son.” She lifted her chin to offer him her cheek, which he pecked with a kiss.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, leaning back to lift the bags laden with shopping. “Let’s get this stuff away.”

She turned to grab hold of her wheeled trolley and shuffled down the hallway toward the kitchen, where she took a seat and dished out instructions regarding exactly where each item should be placed. And woe betide him if he made a mistake—she had a whip-smart tongue and no qualms about lashing him with if he disobeyed her orders.

He placed the last can in the cupboard and closed the door. “There we go.”

“Good lad. Here’s your payment.” She slid a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits across the counter.

He leaned on the counter and took a biscuit, dunking it in his tea as Agnes sipped hers.

“So,” she said, giving him a shrewd once-over. “Tell me your update.”

Every week she liked to hear what had been going on in his life, though often she’d already know thanks to her not-so-clandestine hobby of spying on all the neighbors from behind her net curtain. He knew for a fact that she had a pair of binoculars sitting on her living room window ledge, which she pretended she used for bird-watching. Nosy bugger.

“Well, I’m helping to organize my friends’ wedding now.” Sam had called and asked whether he’d mind getting a band booked. Apparently, he and Liv would be completing the task together, which was music to his ears (pun intended).

Agnes’s eyebrows knitted together. “I thought you were already doing that.”

He shook his head. “It was just the pre-wedding weekend away before. Now it’s actual wedding tasks.”

“Hmm. And what else?” She raised a gray eyebrow. “What about your lovely brunette friend? Seen her again this week?”

“Liv?” He shot her a chastising look. “Yeah, she came round on Saturday. But don’t pretend like you didn’t know that already, Mrs. ‘I’m a Bird Watcher, Honest.’?”

She shrugged. “I happened to see her arrive while I was watching a great tit.” The corner of her mouth ticked up.

A standoff ensued during which both of them attempted to suppress puerile laughter at the double entendre behind the innocent bird’s name. There might have been sixty years between them, but their juvenile sense of humor was still aligned.

Arran gave in first with a snigger, while Agnes looked on, smiling behind her mug. “You like that lassie,” she told him in a matter-of-fact tone. “And I mean like like, as you youngsters call it.”

“Aye, well. Maybe I do. Doesn’t matter, though, because I can’t have her.”

“Why not?”

He shook his head, sipping his tea. “I don’t know if she likes me like that. Sometimes I’m sure she does, but it’s hard to tell for sure what she’s thinking.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just ask her, then, you numpty.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

He gave her an amused look. “Because it’s complicated, you nosy old bugger.”

Agnes lifted an eyebrow. “Less of the old , whippersnapper.”

He grinned. “Agnes, you’re eighty-eight. I hate to break it to you, but you’re old.”

“Pfft.”

They eyed each other, smiles on their faces.

“Anyway,” she said. “Just tell her how you feel. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Er, I ruin our friendship and then it’s awkward forever because she’s my best friend’s sister, and she’s also about to become my son’s teacher.”

Agnes just shrugged, as if none of that were important. “When you get to my age, you realize that the crap you worried about when you were young was just nonsense all along.”

He shook his head. “Perhaps you can spy on her some more with those binoculars. See if you can decipher her feelings better than I can.”

She smiled. “I have no idea what you mean.”