The Wedding Engagement

Chapter Twenty-Five

There must be a German word for it. For when something you’ve longed for and built up in your mind eventually happens, and it’s even better than your wildest dreams. Because that was what being with Liv had been like.

Arran was struggling to concentrate on his painting. Refining Liv’s features on canvas was a poor second to stroking her face and kissing her actual lips. It’d only been a few nights since he’d seen her, but the time was passing agonizingly slowly.

They’d formulated a plan to meet at the weekend, among the explicit messages they’d been sending each other. But even the weekend seemed too far away. A number of times he’d picked up his phone with half a mind to ask her if he could come over, there and then, but he’d thought better of it. If she wanted that, then surely she’d ask. He needed to give her space. Let her see that this was going somewhere and she didn’t need to be scared of it.

Is it really her who’s scared? Or is it me? He was fearful of losing her, that was for sure. Now it was Friday night and only two more days until he’d see her. She had a breakfast with her family the next morning. In the afternoon, he was picking up Jayce from Jess and they were going to his parents’ to stay over, so he and Liv had opted to meet on Sunday evening. Now he wished he’d asked his parents if they could postpone.

Arran had called Sam pretty soon after Liv had left the weekend before, feeling that it’d be best to keep him in the loop after Sam had kind of engineered the whole portrait thing to Arran’s advantage. It hadn’t been as cringe to fess up what’d happened as he’d thought, though he hadn’t gone into any detail whatsoever because that would’ve been weird.

He’d also stopped short of telling Sam he was in love with Liv, because it just didn’t feel right to say it to someone else before he’d told her. Partly for romantic reasons, but he was aware pride was also involved. If it transpired that Liv didn’t feel the same, then he’d rather no one else know. That way he could hide his humiliation a hell of a lot more easily than he had a year ago, when the whole town had known about him getting dumped a few weeks prior to his wedding. He shuddered thinking about it.

Sam had been supportive, tried to get him to speak to Liv about however he felt and what he wanted. But Arran had shut him down—he didn’t want to disclose anything to Sam regarding what Liv had confided; she needed to tell her brother under her own steam. Sam, always the thoughtful, understanding guy, hadn’t pushed it. The sound of the doorbell cut into his ruminations, and it occurred to him that it could be Liv. He jumped to his feet and left the studio. Maybe that work thing she had on tonight had been canceled.

His heart full of hope, he opened the door. Then his spirits crashed down around his ears when it revealed Jess standing there.

Jess raised her eyebrows and he realized that he was frowning at her and not saying anything.

“Sorry,” he said. “You took me by surprise.”

She swayed a little in the doorway. “Can I come in?”

He tried to gather his thoughts. Had Jess said she was bringing Jayce over tonight? He’d thought that he was picking him up tomorrow. A glance behind her confirmed she was alone.

“Arran?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said, stepping aside to let her in. Then he realized something. “Where’s your car?”

She stumbled a little on the way past, and he detected the smell of alcohol. “I got a taxi over.” She removed her shoes and carved a wobbly path toward the kitchen.

He followed her, frowning and confused. “Are you pissed?”

“Nah,” she said, rummaging in his cupboard and getting out a bag of crisps. “Just tipsy.”

This was weird.

“Sit down and I’ll make you some tea,” he said, moving over to the kettle.

“Thanks.” She sat and began munching on the crisps.

Arran glanced up as he made the tea. “Where’s Jayce?”

“He’s at my mum’s,” she said through her full mouth. “Staying over.”

That’s good. Seeing as you’re as pissed as a fart. He brought over a couple of mugs, handing one over, then sitting across from her with his. She continued to munch on the crisps. When she saw him watching her, she gestured the open end of the packet toward him.

Arran waved his hand. “No, thanks.” He watched her for a few more seconds, waiting for her to explain her presence. But she just continued crunching on the crisps. He cleared his throat. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

Her eyes welled up, and she hiccuped a couple of times before getting her words out. “Me and Rory had a fight.” She sipped her tea, blinking.

Arran felt bad for her but couldn’t fathom how any of this was his business. “Sorry to hear that. Why didn’t you go to your mum’s?”

She hiccuped again. “I didn’t want Jayce to see me upset.”

“Uh-huh.” Kind of fair enough, but still weird. “And…why come here?”

Her voice broke. “I didn’t know where else to go.” Tears began to fall and Arran felt like a dick for being blunt.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed. Although, she did have any number of friends she could have gone to.

“Thank you,” Jess said, giving him a watery smile and reaching over to squeeze his hand. Instantly he felt uncomfortable, and snuck his hand from under hers to grasp his mug.

“Can I stay over?” she asked.

How the hell could he say no to a distraught, tearstained woman? “Yeah.” He sighed. “That’s fine.” She could have his bed and he’d stay on the couch. “I’ll drop you at your mum’s in the morning and pick Jayce up at the same time.”

She swallowed. “Thank you.” Taking another sip of her tea, she eyed him. “Aren’t you going to ask what the argument was about?”

Arran was so weirded out he felt like departing for the sofa right that instant. “Nope. It’s none of my business.”

Jess ignored him. “It was about you.”

“Me?” he asked, his pulse spiking. “What the hell have I got to do with anything?”

Jess met his gaze. “Rory reckons I’m still hung up on you.”

For fuck’s sake. This was fast becoming painfully uncomfortable. “Okay,” he said, placing his palms on the table. “I’m going to get ready for bed.” He scraped his chair back and got to his feet.

Jess stood. “Me too.”

She followed him up the stairs and went into the bedroom while he opened the linen cupboard and got out the spare duvet, leaving it at the top of the stairs to take down. He just needed to fetch his favorite pillow. Sleeping without it was an impossibility.

The bedroom door was open, and the sound of water running came from the en suite. He grabbed the pillow—and Liv’s T-shirt—and when he turned, Jess was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, wearing only her underwear.

“Fucking hell,” he said, covering his eyes and turning for the door, rushing in his discomfort.

“Wait,” she called after him. “Where are you going?”

“To sleep on the sofa,” he said, unable to suppress his pissed-off tone. “You didn’t think I was going to sleep here with you, did you?”

Her lack of response said it all. He closed the door loudly behind him, then grabbed the linen and took it down to the living room, where he got under the duvet on the sofa, bringing it right over his head in an effort to cocoon himself from the painful awkwardness of the evening.

—

Saturday morning breakfast was not going well for Liv. Sam was talking but she couldn’t take anything in.

He paused, eyeing her. “Liv?”

“Mm-hmm?” Her mind was on the series of intimate messages she and Arran had been sending over the past few days.

Sam shot her a knowing look, and she guessed Maya had told him about the Arran-related developments. He glanced toward the kitchen, where Tara and Angus were preparing breakfast in a very lovey-dovey, adorable manner. He leaned in. “I know what you’re thinking about. Or should I say, who you’re thinking about.” He shot her a grin.

She rolled her eyes. “I know that you know. Because I told Maya you were allowed to know, you know?”

He shook his head. “Maya didn’t tell me. Well, she did. But I already knew because Arran had called.”

Her ears pricked up. “And what did he say?”

Sam appeared shifty for a moment. “Don’t worry, he didn’t give me any details.” He screwed up his face. “Because that would be both weird and yuck.”

Liv punched his arm. “Plus, it’s none of your biz.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said rubbing his arm and poking his tongue out at her. He settled back in his seat. “How do you feel about him?”

She paused, taken off guard. “Strongly. But I’m not sure he feels the same.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Why not?”

Her heart felt heavy in her chest. “He hasn’t said anything. Hasn’t indicated any clue about whether he’s thinking this is casual or something else.”

Sam fiddled with his mug. “I think it’s the latter.”

She gave him a nudge, her hopes rising. “How do you know?”

“I just do. The way he’s behaved. How he was pining for you after the Skye trip. The way he spoke about you when he told me.”

Pining for her? Her heart warmed at the idea that he could like her enough to pine, but then she was needled with guilt at the thought of his being forlorn. “Did he actually tell you that he like likes me? That he wants a relationship?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Not in so many words, no.” Her disappointment must’ve been obvious, because he grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Trust me, Liv. I know him.”

She sighed. “What about all that stuff he’s said over the past year? That he doesn’t want another serious relationship. Plus, he always gave off the impression that if Jess wanted to rekindle things, he’d jump at the chance.”

Sam shook his head. “That was before. It’s been different since the New Year. And I reckon that’s to do with you.”

To do with me? Her heart rose at the thought that he might feel something deeper for her. He’d told her that although he missed being a family with Jess, he didn’t miss her as a person. Surely that meant he’d finally moved on. And yet, she was still flooded with panic at the idea that he might want to rekindle with Jess if the opportunity arose. Would things be different if Jess wanted to get back together?

Sam took her hand. “Listen. You were there for me while I was with Cat.” He gave a little shudder as he said her name. “Then it was your wisdom that guided me onto the right path with Maya.” Liv raised her eyebrows at him when he uttered the word wisdom , and he shot her a grin. “Don’t give me shit for admitting you’re the wise one, or I’ll steal all your stuffed animals.” That was the kidding-around threat he used to use when they were younger, and unlike back then—when she’d burst into tears and punch his arm—this time it made her smile. “Anyway,” he continued. “You need to let me help you now. It’s your turn to get some support.” His voice became a little strained. “You said you wouldn’t hold stuff back from me anymore, when we spoke before Christmas. But I know you have been.”

Her heart sank to her feet, weighed down by guilt. “Sam—”

He held his hand up. “It’s okay. Don’t apologize or feel bad. I’m not pressuring you. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”

Tears pricked at her eyes and she glanced over to check that Tara and Angus were still distracted. Letting one family member know about her pain was hard enough; she couldn’t contend with the guilt of weighing down two more. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I just didn’t know how to voice it without sounding unhinged.”

Sam slid an arm around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head.

“Did Maya mention anything?” she asked.

He gave her a squeeze. “She alluded to something. But she didn’t want to give any details because she thought I should hear it directly from you.”

Her heart warmed at that sentiment. She lowered her voice. “Can we talk in the other room?”

Sam nodded, getting up and leading the way out of the kitchen, where their mum and Angus seemed oblivious to their departure, dancing to an old disco tune.

They went into the living room and Liv sat on the sofa, Sam taking the chair next to her.

“It’s all to do with Dave, really,” she told him.

Sam hesitated for a beat. “I thought as much.”

Liv took a breath, avoiding her brother’s gaze. “Basically, I got paranoid over a number of years that I was like him. Especially because of something Dean said when we broke up.”

His voice was tight. “What did he say?”

She gave him a soft smile. “It doesn’t matter now. But in any case, I was a little at fault for how I handled breaking up with him, and then it made me become wary. Then that wariness morphed into fear, which became this kind of phobia.” She shuddered. “I know it sounds ridiculous. But if I started to get vibes that a guy I was seeing was catching feelings, I’d get these horrible palpitations. I felt physically sick. Then I’d finish with him.” She glanced up, worried that she’d see judgment in his eyes. Her shoulders relaxed at the sight of the empathy shining in them.

He gave her a soft smile. “I always thought Dean was the one who finished it. You were so upset about it.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry for letting you think that. And I was upset, because of how I’d hurt him and because I believed him when he said I was like Dave.”

His voice was firm. “You aren’t.”

Liv cleared her throat. “I didn’t feel anything, Sam. After I practically beat up our own father.”

He squeezed her shoulder, studying her face. “Why should you? He sabotaged your relationship from day one. Made you feel belittled and insignificant. He created the void between you. That’s why you didn’t feel anything.” He gave her a meaningful look. “Not because you’re a cold monster like him.”

Each time she told someone, a little piece of the burden drifted from her soul. “You know something?”

“What?”

“When we were sixteen, and you gave up karate but I carried on, it was because I fantasized that one day, I’d use it on Dave.”

Sam tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Good for you.”

She searched her brother’s face. “You don’t think that makes me a bad person?”

“Nope.” He leaned in. “The very fact that you worry so much about being like him means that you’re nothing like him. Do you think Dave gives a shit about how he is? How his actions affect others? That’s all you care about, sis.”

“I don’t think Mum would agree.”

Sam was silent for a moment. Then he left his chair to sit next to her on the sofa, pulling her in for a hug. He kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head against his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, it is. I should have been there for you. I should have made it easy for you to tell me all this stuff years ago.”

She pulled back to look him in the eye. “I mean it, Sam. I didn’t tell you this to make you feel bad.”

“Yeah, well. I should have noticed it all myself instead of being wrapped up in my own shit.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Wrapped up in shit? That sounds pretty stinky.”

A smile tugged at his mouth as he nudged her arm. “You know what I mean.” He paused to rub his beard. “Do you think that’s another reason why you invested in karate? Maybe it was an unconscious tactic to help you get out all this stuff.”

She hadn’t thought of it that way. “Yeah, maybe. It could have been an outlet for the emotions I didn’t feel able to show in any other way.”

He reached over to squeeze her hand. “I’m glad you told me. Now I can reassure you that you have no need to worry about being anything like our deadbeat dad, and you can feel free to say whatever’s on your mind. Negative or not. I’ve got your back.”

Warm relief soothed her system further, calming her troubled thoughts. “Everything you’re saying mirrors what Arran said. I’m so glad I told him.”

Sam’s face softened. “You confided in Arran?”

She nodded.

“And you hadn’t told anyone before?”

She shook her head.

Sam smiled. “He’s enabled you to open up, Liv. And he’s encouraged you to go on doing that. Don’t you see how significant that is?”

She frowned. “Of course I do. He’s an amazing friend.”

He gave her another squeeze. “It means more than that. Maya is an amazing friend. So is Elise.” He pretended to dust his shoulder. “And so am I.” She punched his arm lightly and he gave her a mock wince. “But you still didn’t confide in any of us. There’s something between you and Arran. A special connection.” He raised his eyebrows. “And I think you know what it’s called.”

The frown melted from her face as she processed what Sam was saying. She and Arran were best friends, but she didn’t have the same intense connection with her other best friends. And the shift to becoming lovers had brought something unexpected with it. Love.

Her jaw dropped.

Sam was smiling softly. “You’ve just figured it out, haven’t you?”

Her mouth was dry. “Yeah,” she said, speaking through sandpaper. “I have.”

“You have to tell him,” Sam said.

Shit. I do.

She stood abruptly. “I have to go now. Before I lose my nerve.”

He nodded “Go for it. I’ll cover for you with the olds.”

“Thanks, bro.” She kissed his cheek, then hotfooted it out of the living room, down the hallway, and out the front door, where she hurried into her car and pulled away.

Somebody must have extended the road between her mum’s and Arran’s, because the journey took forever . She checked the time on her car display. It was only ten a.m. He wouldn’t have left to collect Jayce yet.

What was she going to say when she got there? “Morning. I love you. Fancy a cup of tea?”

Her heart was racing by the time she arrived, and she sat for a minute, attempting to gather her thoughts and taking a couple of deep breaths. When no helpful thoughts were forthcoming and she felt as if her heart was going to beat out of her chest, she left the car and somehow managed to ring the doorbell without passing out.

It seemed to take a while for the door to be answered, and she wasn’t sure if it was just her warped sense of time since she’d decided she needed to come here and declare her feelings for Arran out in the open.

Then the door opened, and she held her breath in anticipation of seeing his beautiful face.

But instead of Arran standing there, it was Jess. Her long sandy hair was tousled and she was wearing a T-shirt that was definitely Arran’s…and, it appeared, nothing else. Jess shifted in the doorway, the T-shirt riding up a little, and Liv caught sight of a flash of lace.

Phew. She’s wearing underwear.

Liv swallowed hard, dragging her eyes up from Jess’s very lovely legs to meet her eyes. What the hell was she doing there? Practically naked except for Arran’s T-shirt?

The memory of straddling Arran, lifting his T-shirt over her head, flashed into her mind. Nausea swelled in her gut.

Jess frowned. “Are you looking for Arran?”

Clearing her throat, Liv managed a nod.

Jess rubbed her forehead as if she had a headache. “He’s not home. He said he had to go out for something.”

Her throat felt dry and scratchy. “Will he…be back soon?”

Jess shrugged. “He didn’t say.”

Her brain was screaming, “Retreat, retreat!” So she shuffled backward, muttering something about needing to be somewhere and catching him later.

Jess was still frowning. “Are you okay, Liv?”

“Yep, yep,” she said, darting her gaze around like a madwoman, her palms sweating. “Have a great day.”

Jess glanced down at herself, then lifted her gaze again, opening her mouth to say something, then appearing to think better of it.

Liv gave an awkward wave, turned on her heel, and hurried to her car, climbed in, and drove off.