“Elodie, don’t spoil the fun,” Cam complained. “These two are my weekend entertainment.”
“I’m thinking about filming them and creating a weekly blog,” Joss agreed.
Before I could think up a clever retort, we heard my mother tsk again loudly. “Beth, eat your greens. They’re good for you. Come on, eat your peas.”
“I don’t want to,” she whined, and we turned to watch her push her plate back. “They’re little fuckers.”
The room stilled, my mother’s gasp the only sound.
The laughter built up inside me and promptly exploded as Cole gave a bark of laughter. I collapsed against him, my face in his shoulder, and laughed until my belly hurt.
I could hear everyone’s laughter, and looked across the table at Joss to see that she was the only one mortified.
Wiping tears from my eyes, I asked, “How?” hoping she understood the question.
“I said it once,” she lamented. “Now she won’t stop saying it.”
“Mummy?” Beth asked, confused by our reaction.
“I still don’t understand.” Mum pinched her mouth together in affront.
Joss sighed. “I dropped a jar of peas and I thought I got ’em all, but I found some renegades later on and forgot Beth was there when I did.”
“Little fuckers,” Beth said promptly, obviously remembering the moment when Joss encountered the renegade peas.
That set us off again.
I had tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Baby, I told you, you can’t say that word,” Joss told her softly, ignoring the rest of us. “It’s not a nice word and Mommy was wrong to use it.”
Beth gave Joss a hilariously sly look that suggested she was intrigued rather than cautioned.
We were off again, Braden’s laughter louder than anyone’s. “Christ, next she’ll be repeating it in school.” He rubbed his eyes, his expression smoothing out from hilarity. “If she does, I’m leaving you to explain it.”
“What happened to being in this together?” Joss grumbled.
“She gets it from you, so you’re best equipped to deal with it.”
The look Joss cut him was not one of amusement.
“She’s definitely your daughter,” I said, picking my fork back up.
“Jocelyn’s?” Braden asked as Joss asked, “Braden’s?”
“Exactly.”
CHAPTER 6
The next week flew in with work and volunteering, the gym and my book club. By the time Saturday rolled around I was looking forward to taking some time off, spending the night with Cole surrounded by people we didn’t know, cracking jokes and making up life stories for the strangers we’d be sharing a reception hall with.
When I got into the cab he’d hired to drive us to the reception just outside the city center, my eyes roved over Cole in approval. He’d gone conservative for me this evening, wearing a three-piece suit that covered most of his tattoos. He gave a nod to his own personal taste with the chain that dangled from the front of his waistband, looping down and up to the back of it.
“You look great,” I said with a grin.
“You look stunning,” he murmured, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.
I was wearing a black dress, molded to my figure, and bright blue pumps with platform heels. “Was Stephanie okay about you escorting me tonight?”
Cole quirked an eyebrow at the mention of his girlfriend, appearing annoyed. “Nope.”
I winced. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. She’s been acting crazy jealous lately. Not just about you, but girls at uni, even clients at the studio. I don’t think it’s going to work out.”
“Cole, I’m really sorry.” I cuddled into his side as the cab drove out of town. “Wouldn’t it be so much easier if we were attracted to each other?”
“So much easier,” he agreed. “But alas, you are immune to my charms.”
“As you are to mine.” I sighed dramatically.
Cole chuckled and put his arm around me. “One day you’ll meet someone you can stand to commit to, and I’ll meet someone who isn’t batshit crazy.”
“Oh, you dreamer you.”
The wedding reception was in full swing when we got there. Someone I didn’t know directed me to the table where all the wedding presents were and I put my gift there before tagging Cole by the hand and leading him into the main hall. Tables and chairs had been pushed to the edges of the room and the lights had been dimmed. Guests danced on the floor to the DJ’s playlist, while others mingled at the tables and at the bar at the far end of the room. I spotted the bride easily and we made our way over to her.
“Oh, my gosh!” Nish cried out happily upon seeing me. “You look amazing.”
I laughed. “I say that to you. And you do. You look beautiful.” I gestured to Cole. “This is Cole.”
“The famous Cole.” Nish hugged him, sharing her joy. Cole patted her back awkwardly and politely tried to disengage. “Oh, my word.” She grinned into his face. “You are even more gorgeous in real life.” She frowned at me. “What is wrong with you? Just friends. Pfft. Anyhoo” – she flung herself around – “Andrew!”
A good-looking bloke in a kilt turned at her yell and grinned, swaggering over to us.
Nish grabbed his arm and yanked him close. “Hannah, this is my husband, Andrew.”
After the introductions, we left the happy couple to their mingling and Cole and I made our way over to the bar. I passed the table with my colleagues and waved at them.
“Do you want to go over?” Cole asked, following my gaze.
“Nah. Let’s just hang out. Mock people. Mock love,” I joked.
“I’m starting with you, Miss Cynical.”
I rolled my eyes as he ordered our drinks. As soon as we had them I moved us over to an almost empty table. I’d forgotten how awkward it could be to be in a room with a bunch of strangers who knew one another but didn’t know you. “We’ll leave soon,” I promised.
Cole shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me. Nish seems nice.”
“She’s a kook.” I shook my head, watching her drag Barbara onto the dance floor. I sank a little lower in my seat, hoping she wouldn’t demand the same of me.
We sat there a while, just laughing and joking and catching up on each other’s lives. Some time had passed when I began to feel a burn on the left side of my face. Skin tingling, I turned my head to look across the room. My eyes moved over the guests, not recognizing anyone. Don’t know him, don’t know her, don’t know her, don’t know him, Marco, don’t know hi —
My eyes dragged back, my heart suddenly in my throat as my gaze connected with Marco’s.
I felt as if someone had just swung a bat at my chest.
I couldn’t breathe.
It was Marco.
He was older, more filled out, if that was even possible, but I’d know that face anywhere. It was hard to mistake.
“Hannah?” Cole’s concerned voice tugged at me and I glanced back at him in shock.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m f-fine,” I stammered, slowly rising to my feet. “I’m just… I need to nip to the ladies’. I’ll be right back.” I shot out the side door near our table into the cool air of the hallway. I inhaled deeply in an effort to get some of that air inside me.
I studied the hallway a little stupidly, looking for signs for the ladies’.
Finding one, I followed the arrow, my brain on overload with questions.
“Hannah.”
His deep, gravel-rough, accented voice drew me to an abrupt halt.
It was him. It really was him. He was here somehow.
Slowly, I turned around to face the guy I had pined over for so many years, my eyes greedily drinking in the sight of him, even though I tried to resist. He wore suit trousers and a shirt that stretched nicely across his broad chest. He’d always been athletically built, but he’d put on bulk, his biceps clearly much larger than they used to be. His face had filled out a little too, but was no less angular, his cut jawline and sharp cheekbones such a contrast to his exotic eyes and sensual lips. He was utterly striking.