Save the Date

by R. J. Groves

  His thoughts drifted back to his date with Andie. Who had done the sabotaging then? Not that it mattered. Not really. They could never happen. He cleared his throat and nodded towards her door, indicating that the conversation was over. He talked to his sister about a lot of things. But not this. He was a grown man. He was well and truly capable of taking care of himself.

  ‘Let me worry about me,’ he said. ‘And you just focus on yourself. And Connor. And your lives together. Deal?’

  She studied him, her expression unchanged until, finally, she sighed in resignation. ‘Fine,’ she huffed. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to kick your ass if I see you throw something good away.’

  He nodded. It was a fair point. Entirely acceptable for a sister to do that. Thing is, she won’t see him do it, since he’d carefully kept that part of his life separate to everything else. And Andie—and anything involving her—would be entirely impossible to keep separate. Which is why it could never happen. And if things went according to plan, he should never have to see her again.

  And that would be for the best.

  He hoped.

  Libby paused before climbing out of his car. ‘You coming?’ she said.

  He shook his head. ‘The morning took longer than I thought it would. I’ve got an appointment to check out a potential new investment.’

  Her eyebrow lifted. ‘In you, or by you?’

  He grinned. ‘By me, of course. Enjoy your lunch with Connor.’ She nodded, and climbed out of the car. ‘Libby?’ he added before the door closed. She peered back into the car. ‘You’re still looking for a venue, right?’

  She nodded. ‘Can’t really set a date without one, either. Everywhere just seems so busy at the moment.’

  He nodded. ‘I’ll ask around and see if I can find something.’

  She smiled. ‘Thanks, Tay.’

  He waited until she entered the building and pulled the car out of the car park, heading east. Investing kept his money working for him. And he’d always wanted to see how the winemaking business worked. Now he’d get the chance.

  Chapter 9

  Andie took the measurements of the last of the bridesmaids—Amy, or Amelia, or something of the sort. The short curvy one.

  It had been a long week since her date with Taylor Ballin. And it must have been the longest week of her life. The first few days were the hardest, wondering what his kiss meant, what it all meant. For them. For her. Hell, there wasn’t even a ‘them’ to mean anything to. She hadn’t heard from him since that kiss—not that she expected to. It just … it would have been nice to know what he was thinking.

  At first, she’d thought he might have been exercising the whole three-day rule. But when the third day ticked by and he hadn’t called or messaged or dropped into the shop to talk, she started wondering if he’d simply forgotten about her. Perhaps he was too caught up with all his lovers and prior engagements to even give her a second thought. He probably had another family somewhere else. It wouldn’t surprise her one bit.

  Libby had come to the shop on Wednesday to have her measurements taken and to try on the dress. She’d half hoped that he’d come with her. Though she wasn’t sure what she would have done if he had. But Libby had come alone, with some spiel about wanting to pay her portion of the bill, and she’d been surprised to learn that Taylor hadn’t told Andie that Libby would be paying for some. As far as Andie was aware, she’d made a deal with Libby’s brother and that was that. Libby should have looked relieved, but she hadn’t. But nothing more was said on the matter.

  She’d even wondered whether Taylor had sent Libby in to try to pay for it—the wad of cash certainly looked familiar. Then again, it could very well have been a different lot of cash. The notes all looked the same, after all. Still, a part of her hoped she would have heard from him. Perhaps he’d been busy on the third day, or maybe Libby mentioning her fitting might trigger his memory of her. She shouldn’t have been hoping for anything. She’d tried her best to convince herself that it was good she hadn’t heard from him. After all, they couldn’t happen.

  But his kisses …

  And his hands sliding over her back, in her hair …

  She swallowed, forcing herself back to writing the right measurements down. It was Friday now, and she hadn’t heard anything from him. It was for the best. She just had to focus on fitting the dresses for Libby and her bridesmaids, and all would be well again. Eventually, he’d stop haunting her dreams. And maybe he’d leave her daydreaming mind alone, too.

  She finished writing out the last measurement and overheard the bridesmaids giggling among themselves.

  ‘He is such a dream, you have to admit,’ said the shorter one that she’d taken the last measurements from.

  ‘And mysterious,’ the dark-haired one—Charlotte?—added.

  ‘I think he’s a total bad boy,’ the blonde leggy one said. Isabelle. Andie didn’t have trouble remembering her name. For some reason, she didn’t like her. Isabelle looked over at Libby. ‘Is he a bad boy?’

  Libby blinked at her friends, totally unfocused on their conversation. ‘I wouldn’t know. I don’t think so.’ Andie wondered who they were talking about. A mutual friend, perhaps?

  ‘Do you think he prefers dark hair like Charlotte’s?’ the shorter one said.

  Isabelle gave Charlotte a scrutinising glance and focused on preening herself in the mirror. ‘No, he’s definitely into blondes. Right, Libby?’ All eyes turned back to Libby and she looked awkward.

  Andie observed, puzzled. Who were they talking about to make Libby look so awkward? Her fiancé, perhaps? Andie hadn’t seen Libby’s fiancé, Connor, or even heard a description of what he looked like.

  ‘I—I really couldn’t say,’ Libby said, frowning. ‘He keeps that part of his life private.’

  Andie bit into her lip. Bit of an odd statement if it was Libby’s fiancé. No, it must be someone else.

  ‘Oh, I love this one,’ Charlotte said, holding a pale blue dress against her body. ‘What do you think, Amelie?’

  Libby had opted for different shades of blue for the bridesmaids, so, naturally, Andie and Harley had brought all the blue dresses they had out to the back room—along with any that could be ordered in the right colour.

  The shorter girl gave a nod of approval. ‘It suits you,’ she said, then turned to Andie. ‘Maybe Andie knows. Have you met him yet?’

  Back onto the mystery man they were talking about. So, she supposedly knew him, which didn’t narrow it down at all. She had a lot of men come into the shop—grooms and groomsmen, fathers and brothers. It was expected, since they had suits available as well.

  ‘I’m not sure who you’re talking about,’ she muttered, busying herself with looking through the racks in search of dresses for each girl’s body type.

  ‘Libby’s brother, Tay,’ Charlotte explained, turning to the side to see how the dress would look from that angle.

  ‘Oh, right.’ Of course they were talking about Taylor Ballin. Which also explained why Libby looked awkward. No woman wanted to hear her friends raving on about how hot and mysterious her brother was. ‘Yes, I’ve met him.’

  ‘And?’ Amelie prompted.

  The blonde stopped looking at herself in the mirror and stared at Andie—glared, more like it. ‘And he seems’—she hazarded a glance towards Libby, who’d actually begun to seem interested in the conversation—‘nice.’

  ‘And sexy,’ Amelie added.

  ‘And rich,’ Charlotte said, swapping the dress for another.

  Andie bit into her lip. Clearly, Mr Taylor Ballin had no shortage of women pining over him. She could understand why he might not want to go there with his sister’s friends. Then again, maybe he was the kind of guy who didn’t give a damn who he slept with. She wouldn’t put it past him.

  ‘What do you think, Andie?’ Isabelle said, her eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t you think he’s sexy, too?’

  She heard Harley snort from her office and felt her temperature rise. She
hoped with every inch of her that her blush wasn’t visible. ‘I—’ she stammered, glancing over at Libby again. She was looking at her thoughtfully. ‘I really … didn’t … notice.’

  Isabelle continued eyeing her for a moment—unconvinced, no doubt—then turned back towards the mirror to examine her eyebrow. Yep. Andie officially didn’t like her. Clearly, the feeling was mutual.

  ‘I bet he’s a good kisser,’ Amelie continued dreamily.

  ‘I bet he’s good in bed,’ Isabelle said wickedly.

  Libby groaned, jumping to her feet and joining Andie at the racks. ‘Come on, girls. This is my brother we’re talking about.’

  ‘Yeah, your sexy brother,’ Charlotte teased.

  Libby rolled her eyes and focused on Andie. ‘Don’t worry about them,’ she muttered. ‘They’re always talking about how much they want to bang Tay, but it’s never going to happen. Trust me.’

  Andie gave Libby her best I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about look, even though she wasn’t entirely convinced herself. ‘Oh, you don’t need to justify anything to me,’ she said. ‘I’m just the seamstress.’

  Libby’s head tilted to the side, giving her a look as though she was trying to figure her out. Andie smiled, hoping Libby couldn’t see right through it. After all, it wasn’t her right to be annoyed at other people talking about Libby’s brother. It’s not like he was hers. It’s not like they ever had a chance—even if his kiss told her otherwise. God, his kiss …

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Libby said, warily. ‘I thought—’

  ‘He is a good kisser, by the way,’ Isabelle said, loud enough for everyone to hear it.

  Libby frowned and turned to her friend. ‘How could you possibly know that?’

  Isabelle shrugged gloatingly. Andie couldn’t help but notice that most of the gloating seemed to be aimed towards her—Andie—and not the other girls in the room. Or maybe she was just being paranoid.

  ‘Because we kissed, obviously.’ Isabelle’s lips curved up in a wicked grin. Andie gripped the notebook she held, trying to stop herself from throwing it across the room at her new most-hated person. ‘I must say,’ she continued. ‘I was a bit surprised. I didn’t think he liked me like that.’

  ‘He doesn’t,’ Libby ground out, giving Andie an apologetic look. Why apologetic? How much did she know? ‘And I don’t believe you. You didn’t kiss.’

  ‘We did,’ Isabelle shrieked, as if annoyed that no one believed her. ‘Just ask him.’

  ‘Oh, I will,’ Libby muttered.

  ‘Well, go on, then,’ Amelie said. ‘Details. When was it?’

  ‘No one wants any details,’ Libby said.

  ‘Last Friday night, of course,’ Isabelle said at the same time, glancing over at Andie, then to Libby. ‘At your engagement party. We had a few drinks and, well, kissed.’

  Friday. The night before their date. Mere hours after he’d asked her out. Andie swallowed the lump in her throat.

  ‘How was it?’ Amelie said, dreamily.

  ‘It was … good. So nice. Very heated.’

  ‘And then?’ Charlotte prompted. Isabelle responded with a wink. Charlotte’s mouth dropped open. ‘You slept with him?’

  Isabelle let them brew on the thought for a moment, then responded. ‘No, we didn’t. Not yet.’

  Andie turned back to the dresses, the backs of her eyes burning. No, she wouldn’t be hurt over this. Couldn’t be hurt over this. She’d already known how it would turn out if she pursued him—not that she had. Hell, she hadn’t even wanted to go on that date. But he’d given her no choice.

  She ignored the girls’ nonsense. It didn’t affect her. Sure, she wasn’t pleased that she had to … endure … this kind of talk about the guy that had kissed her and who had demanded a do-over, even though nothing had been planned and it clearly wasn’t going to happen. She swallowed again, her throat feeling as though it had been scalded. She just had to make it through this session. And any other time she had to put up with Libby’s friends.

  She felt Libby’s eyes on her and glanced to the side, grasping hold of a dress. ‘You know, I still don’t believe it,’ Libby said to her. Andie gave her a noncommittal half-smile. ‘Tay wouldn’t do that. He’s never shown an interest in my friends. Never. And I know he can’t stand Isabelle. He tries to have nothing to do with her.’

  Andie felt her eyebrow lift, then regained her composure, continuing to search through the racks, pulling another dress out. In her experience, that didn’t mean a thing. A man could have a whole lot going on that his sister didn’t know about it. Joseph had had a whole lot more going on than his fiancée had known about. It made perfect sense that a guy would keep things from his sister. Still … Isabelle wouldn’t lie about kissing Libby’s brother, would she? Not when the fact could be so easily verified.

  Her throat tightened again. The only reason why Isabelle would brag about that if it didn’t happen would be to make the other girls jealous. Hell, it may have even been to make her jealous, since Isabelle kept giving her looks. But how could she know that anything happened? If what Libby said was true, and Taylor tried to avoid her as much as possible, he surely wouldn’t have told her what had happened.

  Not that it mattered.

  Nothing happened. Not really.

  They kissed.

  That’s all.

  It may have been a heart-stopping, leg-weakening, panty-dropping kind of kiss—one that was near impossible to get out of her head. But still …

  If what Isabelle said proved anything, it was that Taylor Ballin was exactly the kind of man she thought he was. And that was somewhere she didn’t want to go again. Loving a man like him was dangerous.

  She frowned. Who said anything about love?

  ‘Do you have a date yet?’ Andie blurted out, grabbing a third dress from the racks and holding them up in front of Libby.

  ‘Not yet. It’s a bit hard to decide when we don’t have a venue. Everywhere’s booked for the foreseeable future.’ Libby studied the dresses and nodded. ‘I like those.’

  They took the dresses over to the bridesmaids and handed them out for the girls to try on. The three scuttled off to the change rooms and Andie thought about Libby’s dilemma. She’d always known the venue would be difficult in planning a wedding. Some places might not be available on the date you wanted to get married. Others simply weren’t available at all. That’s why she’d always reserved the vineyard every two years. Two years was enough time for her, she gathered. As long as there was enough time to plan the rest of the wedding.

  She felt her brows pull together. The vineyard. Of course. Clearly, Libby wanted to get married sooner, rather than later. She and Connor were in love—why wouldn’t they? And everywhere was booked out, so they couldn’t. Unless they already had a reservation, which they didn’t. But Andie did. And three months wasn’t enough time for Andie to have a wedding, especially since there wasn’t a suitable man in sight. But three months might be enough time for Libby to plan hers.

  She already had her wedding dress and bridesmaids’ dresses sorted, minus the fittings. The venue was the next big thing, followed by the necessary details—florists, caterers, photographers and the cake. Andie wondered if the businesses she’d booked for hers might still be available. She knew some would be, since the vineyard used their own staff for a lot of it.

  Andie bit into her lip. It made perfect sense to offer her spot to Libby—she did like Libby, after all. She’d dealt with a lot of bridezillas, and Libby certainly wasn’t one. If she were to give her spot to anyone, it would be her. Still … there was a part of her that didn’t want to let it go, and another part of her that wanted to give up on the idea entirely. She hadn’t yet decided if she would be pushing it back another two years, or simply cancelling it. But she did know that there was no chance in hell that she would be getting married in three months’ time.

  ‘I might know a place,’ she said. Libby looked at her confusedly and she realised it must have been a while since either of t
hem spoke. ‘A venue. There’s a beautiful vineyard in Darlington that caters for weddings. You can do everything there. The ceremony, photography, reception. Right down to a bridal suite for you to spend the wedding night in. They even have their own photographer that you can use if you don’t have anyone else in mind.’ It really was every bride’s dream. Everything, all in the one place.

  Libby’s eyes widened. ‘Really? Do you think they have an opening?’

  ‘I know for a fact they have an opening.’ She hesitated when Libby started looking excited. ‘But it’s in three months.’

  The excitement left Libby’s face. ‘Three months? But that’s not enough time.’

  ‘Oh, but it could be,’ she said, reaching out to place her hands on Libby’s arms. ‘Think about it. You have the dresses sorted, they provide the catering, music and photographer. All you really need to do is sort out the flowers and you’re set.’

  ‘It sounds … perfect,’ Libby said, dreamily.

  ‘It really is.’

  ‘But how do you know we can have that spot?’

  Andie smiled. ‘I might be able to pull some strings.’ Give them a call, simply change the name of who’s getting married. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

  ‘Then you have to come with me.’

  ‘What?’ Andie blinked. Come with her? She hadn’t planned on going anywhere.

  ‘To the vineyard. Today. Now.’

  ‘I don’t think you’ll need me there,’ she said, hesitating.

  ‘How can you pull strings if you’re not there with me?’ Libby held her hands together in front of her, pleading. ‘Please, Andie? I’ll pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  God, what was with the Ballin siblings and wanting to pay her for everything? She sighed. ‘No, it’s not the money. My shift is almost over anyway.’

  ‘So, what is it then?’

  She bit into her lip. It had nothing to do with the money. Why she was hesitant, exactly, she wasn’t sure. Maybe because this time she’d actually come close to getting married and now she had to tell them that it wasn’t happening—again. Or maybe it was because she wasn’t sure how she could deal with going back to the vineyard again.