Never the Bride (Dilbury Village #1)

by Charlotte Fallowfield

  With that parting comment, he disappeared into the crowd as I stood there, stunned.

  ‘Amazing wedding entrance, Abbie, and holy hell, who was that guy who grabbed you and walked you down the aisle? Smokin’ hot,’ came Georgie’s voice as she sidled up next to me.

  ‘Best man, Miller Davis,’ I replied, still in a stunned daze. ‘Pinch me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Pinch me, please pinch me. I’m really not sure if I’m awake. I mean, I caused a scene and took the focus off the bride, not to mention attacking her mother inadvertently. That sounds like me, right? But then I got rescued by some kind of handsome knight on a white steed, who told me he thinks I’m gorgeous and he wants to put his sexy lips on mine. Both sets! Things like that don’t happen to Abbie Carter, stuffy and boring accountant. Owww, what the hell was that?’ I demanded as I rubbed the top of my arm, which suddenly stung.

  ‘The pinch! You’re definitely not dreaming. You’re an intelligent, beautiful, sexy single woman who, granted, doesn’t live a wild life, but is far from stuffy and boring. But forget all of that. Let’s focus on the fact that you appear to have struck gold. You’re telling me that hunk of a man made a play for you?’

  ‘He was teasing, he must have been teasing,’ I stated, feeling my stomach sink, especially when I saw the excited look on Georgie’s face. ‘Men like that aren’t into girls like me.’

  ‘There are no girls like you, Abbie. You’re unique. I honestly don’t know who gave you this complex that you’re not desirable, you so are, but you give out the not-interested vibe more often than not, which probably scares men off. And why would he tease? He looks like the sort of guy who can get any woman he wants. He wouldn’t make a pass at you if he wasn’t interested.’

  ‘Humph. We’ll see,’ I retorted, my eyes desperately searching the excited, chattering crowds, hoping to get another glimpse of him.

  ‘Rachel and bridesmaids, follow me please,’ called James the photographer, holding his camera up in the air so we could see where he was going over the sea of heads.

  ‘Go and be captured in your favourite bridesmaid dress for all posterity,’ giggled Georgie.

  ‘I really hate you sometimes, Georgie Basset,’ I scowled, then gave her a wink before squeezing my way through the crowd.

  ‘Abbie, how are you?’

  ‘Oh hey, Caroline, fancy seeing you here,’ I teased. I saw her at most weddings I was a part of, bridesmaid or not. As the other half of JOL Wedding Photography, wife of James the photographer, we were on first name terms. ‘Please tell me James didn’t get any pictures of my humiliation?’

  ‘Actually,’ she chuckled, ‘a great one of the bouquet hitting the mother of the bride.’

  ‘No, seriously?’ I groaned. Was I ever going to live this morning down?

  ‘If they pick it for the album, it will at least be a talking point.’

  ‘Very true,’ I confirmed, sure my cheeks had gone pink again with mortification.

  ‘He also got one I think you might want a copy of, the moment you fell into the best man’s arms.’

  ‘He did?’ That piqued my interest.

  ‘What’s the story there?’

  ‘No story at all. I just met him today,’ I confirmed as we approached James, who already had the bride in position and was directing the sea of colour where to gather around.

  ‘Watch this space then,’ Caroline replied with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows. I shooed her away with my hand and a laugh, but couldn’t help but notice when Miller came to watch us, which made me stand a little taller, suck my stomach in, and push my breasts out. A girl had to work it sometimes.

  I was surprised to find myself disappointed that I didn’t get a chance to talk to Miller again. It was a blur of photographs at The Abbey, where he had to be positioned close to the happy couple, then it was the same as we headed to Severn Manor, where the wedding reception was being held. It was such a lovely venue, set in beautiful grounds only a few miles from Dilbury, which the river meandered through. It was a timber-framed, 16th century Tudor building, tastefully extended to keep up with the demand for functions. Violins were playing as we gathered on the lawn, while waiters in penguin suits carried around silver platters of champagne and canapés as the pictures were being taken. Every time I tried to grab a glass of bubbly, I was called away for yet more pictures.

  The “riot of colour” theme continued indoors. Poor Sarah of Rosie Posie must have slaved away for days with the amount of gorgeous floral work she’d done in the room. I had to admit, much as I disliked my dress, not finding it at all wedding appropriate, the stunning bright flowers and sweeping layers of coloured voile that created a canopy above us did look lovely and summery, and definitely unique.

  Much to our mortification, Georgie and I were seated at a round table with some of the old fuddy-duddies, and worse, my back was to the top table, so I didn’t have line of sight of the gorgeousness of Miller Davis. With the old cronies being family, it wasn’t like I could ask them to swap either. I was sure I was going to get a neck spasm from casting longing looks over my shoulder throughout the meal.

  Adding to the lesbian rumour that had already started circling the event, I reached out to hold Georgie’s hand as the wedding speeches started. I’d told her I was worried it would be too much for her too soon, but she’d insisted she was going to be fine. Funnily enough, it was me that found myself suddenly choking up, not her, especially during the father-of-the-bride speech. Even if I ever got lucky enough to get married, I was never going to have that. I had no one to give me away, no parents to smile proudly at me, to tell me how beautiful I looked, or how ecstatic they’d be to see me looking so happy. If I had children, I’d have no mum to give me well-meaning advice or be a shoulder to lean on. And my babies would have no grandparents, on my side anyway.

  I was suddenly overcome with emotion and felt the sting of tears at the back of my eyes. I could not cry. I’d already hogged the limelight this morning, I was not going to do it again.

  ‘Are you ok?’ whispered Georgie as I started dabbing my eyes with the white linen napkin.

  ‘I … I think I need a moment, some fresh air.’

  ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ she offered, a look of concern on her face when she saw how close I was to tears.

  ‘I’d just like a few minutes alone if you don’t mind. I’m so sorry.’ I shot to my feet, grabbed my purple clutch bag, and quickly weaved my way through the tables. I shot out of one of the open patio doors and took off my shoes, holding them in my hand as I ran across the lawn towards the river, where some ducks and swans were happily gliding along. There was a bench situated near the old stone bridge that crossed the river, so I plonked myself down on it and gave in to a rare pity party as I shed a few tears. I was sniffing and snuffling so loudly, I sounded like Sumo, which made me giggle as I tried to blot my eyes and not streak my make-up. Crossing my ankles, I swung my legs back and forth as I closed my eyes, raised my face to the heat of the sun, and let out a slow, calming breath. I frowned when I thought I heard someone calling my name.

  ‘Abbie … Abbie … Abbie!’ It was repeated again and again, the tone of the speaker getting louder and more insistent. I opened my eyes and looked around to see Miller racing across the lawn like his life depended on it, the tails of his morning suit flying behind him. Oh hello! If only he was wearing a little less, it would be like watching some reruns of Baywatch. ‘Move, get under the bridge!’ he yelled.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Get under the bridge, quickly,’ he urged as he approached. I stood up, baffled. Was this some fancy American chat-up line? What the hell did he mean? ‘The sprinklers, they’re about to–’

  I shrieked as I was suddenly blasted in the face by a jet of freezing cold water, as the lawn came alive and looked like some kind of second-rate English version of the Bellagio Fountains in Vegas. All we needed were the violinists to come out to add some musical atmosphere. Miller burst out laughing as he re
ached me, then grabbed my hand and started to run again, water spraying us from every direction.

  ‘What the hell?’ I cried, as we scurried down some crude steps on the riverbank and he pulled me along the towpath to shelter under the bridge.

  I didn’t have a chance to worry about how drenched I must look, or how badly my make-up would have run, or how the water would have affected my very carefully done wedding up-do. All I could think about was that he was holding my hand, and how lovely it felt. Like they were born to fit together. He let go to sweep his wet hair back from his chiselled face as I shook my hands, trying to get rid of some of the water pouring down them, then tried to push my own hair out of my eyes. I was soaked, and so was he. Damn that jacket and waistcoat he was wearing. I could be having a total wet white shirt, Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Darcy moment right now. We finally looked at each other, and both burst out laughing.

  ‘What the hell?’ I repeated when we finally stopped and caught our breath.

  ‘I saw you slip out. You looked upset, so I thought I’d follow you and make sure that you were ok, but someone stopped me and told me that the sprinklers were timed to go off while everyone was inside.’

  ‘So you chased me out here to save me?’ I looked up at him, touched.

  ‘Well, I told them to turn them off first, but the guy didn’t know how to shut down the automated system, so I tried to warn you, but you were too far away to hear me yelling. I had no choice, damsel in distress and all, again,’ he added with a grin, then his shoulders started shaking and he roared with laughter. I watched him, perplexed. It had been funny for a moment, but not that funny, especially now that I was cold, dishevelled, and shivering without the hot sun beating down on me.

  ‘Well thank you, but I fail to see the funny side. We’re both soaked, and I probably look like a drowned rat, with make-up running all down my face. I’m not staying here at the hotel, so I have no change of clothes, no make-up, nothing.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about your make-up,’ he chortled, struggling to get his laughter under control. I scowled at him and crossed my arms over my chest. His unexpected and very sweet chivalry points were rapidly declining. ‘You look like a … what was it that farted a neon rainbow?’

  ‘A unicorn, but it’s not like I got changed, you saw me in this damn dress all day.’

  ‘Not when the dye from it was running all over your chest, arms, and legs,’ he guffawed, bending over to clutch his sides as he started to hyperventilate.

  ‘Are you freakin’ kidding me?’ I groaned as I looked down to see he was right. I was a human rainbow now. ‘Oh my God, can this day get any worse? What if it doesn’t come off?’

  ‘I’m sure it will, you just need a hot shower and a good scrub. Come on, you’re shivering, we need to get you changed and warm.’

  He reached for my hand, taking it without asking permission, and pulled me along behind him as we headed out into the sunshine on the other side of the bridge and made our way carefully up the bank to find a fence bordering a large field, full of grazing sheep. There was no sprinkler in sight, not that I could get any wetter. And what was I going to do for clothes? I was going to have to call a taxi to take me home to get changed and come back. But what taxi driver would want me in his cab, risking his seats getting soaked and stained with bright dye? Miller gestured for me to climb the fence first, so I offered him my shoes and bag to hold and turned around to grab the metal wire, hoping to lift the top section and shimmy between the gap in the three parallel sections.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ I screamed, my whole body juddering and the fine hairs on my arms and back of my neck standing on end as a forceful current zapped me and ran through my body. It was only an electric damn fence. I let go of it quickly, still shaking from the shock as I stepped back, with Miller laughing again behind me.

  ‘I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t find it funny, but your face was priceless. Are you ok?’

  ‘I just don’t believe this,’ I moaned, lifting my hands to cover my mortified face. The first guy I’d been attracted to in forever and he seemed to have liked me too. I had no chance with him after these disasters.

  ‘Come on, we’re not risking going over that, and I think you need a bourbon. You can come and shower in my suite. I’ll find you something to wear before I take a shower too.’

  ‘I’m not swimming across the river to try the bridge from that side, not the way this day is going.’

  ‘I wouldn’t risk it either,’ he confirmed. ‘We’re already wet, so we may as well just walk back across the lawn and get a bit wetter. Safer than an electrical current and possible flesh-eating sheep.’

  ‘Flesh-eating sheep?’ I giggled, finally seeing the funny side. I dropped my hands to give him a look and he shrugged with a grin.

  ‘I have a vivid imagination. I design video games.’

  ‘So much cooler than my job,’ I stated. I accepted his free hand as he offered it, still holding my clutch and shoes in his other, and we started to make our way down the bank to retrace our steps.

  ‘Don’t even ask,’ I warned, one palm firmly in the air, as we squelched past an astonished Georgie and group of onlookers standing out on the patio.

  ‘Never a dull moment with you, Abbie Carter,’ she laughed, trying to keep up with our determined march towards the main hotel entrance, where the reception desk was situated. Miller immediately asked for more towels to be sent to his room, suggesting dark ones if they didn’t want a rainbow of dye all over their pristine white ones, and asked if they could dry out our shoes while we took a shower. Georgie raised her eyebrows as she mouthed, ‘Move fast much?’ at me.

  ‘Separate showers,’ I advised her. ‘Could you go and see Rebecca, the head bridesmaid, and find out if she’s staying over? Maybe she could lend me some mascara and eye shadow, so I don’t look completely awful bare-faced.’

  ‘You look beautiful bare-faced, but sure,’ she agreed. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ she warned with a cheeky grin as she spun on her heels and disappeared.

  ‘Who was that?’ Miller asked as we headed barefoot up the stairs.

  ‘My best friend, Georgie,’ I replied, casting a glance his way to try and gauge what he was thinking. Most men fancied Georgie, and that was without her looking so glamorous next to me in my current state.

  ‘Ah, the non-lesbian girlfriend,’ he nodded.

  ‘Hmmm, though if I was a lesbian, I’d be totally into her. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?’ I tested.

  ‘If you like that kind of look,’ he agreed. ‘She’s attractive, but she’s not my type.’ I suppressed a smile. He actually seemed sincere. Wow, a man who wasn’t panting after her was a rarity indeed. ‘Aren’t you going to ask what is my type?’

  ‘No,’ I replied as he led the way along the corridor of bedrooms. ‘You’ve already implied that you’re interested in me, and I like to think I’m a trusting kind of girl. So you’re either being sincere, in which case I’m extremely flattered, or you’re pulling my leg and pretending you like me for a bet or something, and if that’s the–’

  ‘I’m being sincere,’ he replied forcefully as he ground to a halt at bedroom number fourteen and turned to face me, a serious look on his face. Jesus, it was as hot as his smiling face. I think I’d find any of his faces hot. ‘I’ve never led a woman on, Abbie. I’m known for being direct. There’s just something about you I can’t explain, something that makes me want to get to know you better, something I find incredibly attractive. Come on, you’re still shaking. Let’s get you out of those wet clothes,’ he suggested as he turned to open his suite door.

  I followed him in, giving him a quick smile as he shut the door. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard, or that I was here, in his room, and he seemed genuinely interested in me. Even if he was only after a fling, which was likely seeing how he was only here for the wedding, I was seriously flattered. It had been a long time since I’d been flung. But I knew what he was saying, as my attraction to him wasn’t all a
bout his face or potentially hot body either. I hardly knew him, but it was like I’d known him for years.

  ‘I think you’d better go for a shower first, or all of that dye is going to leech into the carpet,’ he advised. ‘I promise to wait out here, and when they deliver the extra towels, I’ll knock, close my eyes, and hand them to you.’

  I just nodded, speechless for once, and trotted after him like an eager puppy as he headed to the bathroom and showed me inside, then went and opened the glass shower door and adjusted some dials.

  ‘I like a cold shower in the morning, it wakes me up. I don’t want you to be hit by that when you’re already freezing. There, that should be nice and warm.’ He stepped out and flashed me one of those amazing smiles that nearly made me swoon. ‘I have a spare black dress shirt, it should fit you and come down low enough to look like a dress. I can lend you a belt as well if you want?’

  ‘Thanks, that would be great.’ I smiled at him shyly and he lifted a hand, gently palming my cheek. My chest started heaving as we stared at each other, my heart soaring. My God, was he going to kiss me? I barely knew him, but all I could think about was how his lips would feel on mine. It took a concerted effort not to speak my thoughts aloud right now, especially with the little devil on my shoulder telling me to ask him to scrub my back. He slowly moved forwards, his lips pursing, and I could feel mine doing the same. Just as I could feel the heat of his breath on them, he veered upwards and lay a kiss on my forehead, causing my heart to plummet.

  ‘Take your time, I’ll be outside if you need me. Help yourself to my shampoo and body wash, it’s in the shower.’ He spun on his heels and headed out, pulling the door shut without a backwards glance.

  Ok, what was that all about?

  I scrubbed myself like I never had before, but when I stepped out of the shower, I sighed to see that I still had blotchy patches of multi-coloured dye on my arms, torso, and legs. That damn dress was never seeing my attic. In fact, I could “accidentally” leave it here and never have to see it again.