‘I’m sorry, Mr. Su,’ I advised, crouching down to rub his head, ‘but there’s no way I’m having Daphne take you out in this either. She’s in her eighties. She could slip and break a hip, and you’d both freeze to death out there. She’ll be over in a while to give you some dinner, and I’ll be back later tonight, ok? Be a good boy for me.’ I grasped his head and tried to give him a quick peck between the ears, but as usual, he wriggled out of my grasp and strutted off in a sulk back to his armchair. I grabbed my bag as I heard the taxi hoot outside and managed to make it up the path without slipping over. ‘Hi, Andy.’
‘Afternoon, Abbie. Severn Manor, right?’
‘You got it,’ I confirmed. Julia was having a late afternoon wedding, followed by an evening reception there too, thankfully indoors. It was seriously cold and the snow was falling thick and fast. It would make for a magical wedding. Great for pictures, but not so great for standing around in a strapless bustier bridesmaid dress. And I knew they were wanting outdoor night-time pictures.
‘I know I’m supposed to be picking you up at midnight, Abbie, and it’s only just up the road, but if this snow keeps falling the way it is, it might be too dangerous for me to come out,’ Andy advised as he drove steadily up the lane, skidding slightly as he turned the corner to head up to the main road. ‘I’ll give you a call if I think I’m going to have to cancel. I’ve got no other bookings, so I could come and get you early. Otherwise, you’ll have to try and find another way back or stay over.’
‘Thanks, Andy,’ I nodded. That seemed a sensible solution. I wouldn’t want to be driving in this. We were hardly suffering from Russian tundra-like conditions, but us British just weren’t equipped to handle anything more than a couple of inches. Of snow, anyway.
Even with a more cautious drive, it didn’t take long to get there. I only lived two miles away, and the trek was along a winding country lane that veered off the main road that I lived just off of. It was already getting dark, and all of the lights in the manor were on, including the ones under the huge cedar tree out on the front lawn and the twinkling outdoor Christmas tree. It really was a beautiful location. Dad had always said how he wanted to see me have my reception here. Like that was ever going to happen. I paid Andy, including a generous tip for driving me in this weather, then scurried into the warmth of the welcoming reception hall, complete with roaring log fire and decked out in sumptuous gold, green, red, and white Christmas decorations. The scent of the mulled wine and minced pies being prepared wafted through, making my tummy rumble. I was soon shown up to the huge, specially designed bridal party suite, where Julia and her team of twelve bridesmaids, matron of honour, and flower girl were being dressed, preened, and pampered by hair and make-up stylists.
The air was a buzz of excitement, girlish laughter, and chatter as I was shown to a changing room to slip into my dress, which for once I loved. It was a gorgeous scarlet red shade, with a fitted bustier, tight to the waist then flared out to the knee, and was teamed with a pair of black high heels. Julia’s dress, in traditional white, had a red tartan bow, in homage to her Scottish soon-to-be husband, who I sincerely hoped didn’t come to speak to me tonight. His accent was so thick, I could never understand what he was saying and frequently just smiled, nodded, and laughed. He could be telling me, “Och aye, my gran’s got a bad case of syphilis, lass, she’s a bit of an OAP bike around the town, and I dunnie know what to do about it,” and I’d just laugh and smile with a nodding dog head.
‘So, Abbie, dish the dirt,’ Fi-Fi squeaked, as I took one of the vacated seats next to her at the make-up and hair section of the suite, ready to be styled next.
‘What dirt?’ I asked, sipping on a glass of prosecco that had been handed to me.
‘You and Miller Davis at Rachel’s wedding. I heard you got wet and steamy in his bedroom, but you obviously disappointed him as he fled back to America.’
‘Then you heard wrong,’ I retorted, feeling my hackles going up. She had always been a bitchy gossip at school. ‘We had separate showers after getting soaked by the sprinklers. While he took his, I came to the bar, and he left at some point on an urgent business matter.’
‘Oh,’ she replied, looking a combination of disappointed that her gossip radar had failed her and relieved that nothing had happened. ‘So there’s nothing going on with you both?’
‘No,’ I huffed, shooting the hair stylist a smile as she moved into place behind me and started to brush.
‘Excellent. I might take a run at him myself later.’
‘Not married to Dave anymore, Fi-Fi?’
‘Oh yes, but he’s not here tonight, and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,’ she giggled. Crikey, her voice was irritating, even more than at school. Hang on a second, was she implying what I thought she was implying?
‘Miller’s here? He’s attending the wedding?’ I felt my heart start to race at the thought of seeing him again.
‘Oh, yes. Julia and Jock are good friends with Rachel, Dean, and Miller. Well, wish me luck with him.’ She beamed as she stood up and trotted off with her empty glass in hand, looking for a refill of prosecco. I was not going to wish her luck with him. I didn’t want to wish anyone luck with him. I wondered what he’d been up to since I last saw him. Had the fact I’d not rung him even bothered him? Probably not. Not when he had women throwing themselves at him. Even with her annoying voice, Fi-Fi was a blonde bombshell. What red-blooded man would say no when it was offered on a plate?
‘Can you do my eyes as dark as you can get away with, that sort of sexy smoky-eyed look?’ I asked the girl.
‘Single, huh?’ she replied with a smile.
‘How did you guess?’
‘All the single ones have been asking for a sexy look today and all I’ve heard about is the gorgeous Miller Davis. I kind of wish I was coming to this wedding myself. Is he all that?’
‘All that and more,’ I nodded firmly.
I was a bag of nerves as I stood at the entrance to the indoor ceremony suite. The wedding itself was going to be very small and intimate, immediate family and close friends only, with the exception of the ridiculously sized bridesmaid and usher party.
I started my walk, clutching my red and white roses in front of me, refusing to allow my eyes to scan the guests for a sight of him. I was not letting myself down at this wedding. I made it to the top in one piece and took my position, trying to focus my gaze on the ornate wall lights, but curiosity got the better of me and my eyes started to wander.
I soon found him, and my breath hitched to see his handsome face again, my heart rate picking up speed as I found those gorgeous tempered-chocolate eyes staring at me. I smiled, but he frowned and looked away, focussing on the soon-to-be happy couple. Ok, not exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for, but seeing as how I didn’t call him, or return his shirt, boxers, or belt, I could hardly complain. I’d slept in his shirt a few times, liking to imagine he’d worn it at some stage and wishing I could smell his tantalising cinnamon aroma on it.
There were polite claps as the bride and groom kissed, then we all filtered out and were served mince pies and mulled wine, with soft Christmas music in the background. It was so romantic and magical. I stopped and chatted to people, wishing I had Georgie with me for some company, but she’d gone away on a spa break for her mum’s early Christmas present. Every time I plucked up the courage to inch nearer to Miller, it seemed like he moved further away.
The wedding feast was lobster tails in truffle oil, followed by a traditional roast turkey dinner, rounded off with Christmas pudding and brandy butter. I’d barely been able to eat, though, pushing my food around my plate with my fork as I tried to catch Miller’s gaze at the table opposite. It seemed like he was deliberately avoiding looking at me, or if our eyes met, he quickly looked away.
When we were moved to another room so they could set up for the much larger evening reception, I slipped away to the powder room, wondering if it would be rude to sneak away early after the first
dance. It was miserable being at a wedding on your own. Especially when someone you’d only just been reminded how much you liked was there too and ignoring you. I hitched up my skirt and sat on the toilet, too many glasses of prosecco tinkling out at speed. I could be sitting at home in a fleecy onesie in front of a log fire right now, watching Love Actually with a box of chocolates in my lap, a bottle of wine at my side, and a box of tissues. It was a Christmas tradition, and it always made me cry. Sumo would be snoring and farting in his chair as usual. I suddenly felt lonely and homesick. Was that normal when you’d only been gone a few hours?
I made an effort and had a few dances, feeling like Miller’s eyes were on me the whole time. But whenever I took a sneaky a look at him, I found him looking elsewhere. Checking my watch, I was surprised to find it was already ten o’clock. I pulled my phone out of my black satin clutch and groaned to see I’d been so busy dancing, or Miller watching, that I’d totally missed a call from Andy. He’d texted me about two hours after dropping me off to say that the snow was too bad to come out now. Damn it! I hurried out to reception and asked if they could try some taxi firms for me, but was told that due to the festive season and the weather, they were having trouble booking any, especially to come out this far into the country. I looked out at the white blanket covering the ground as I considered my options.
Half an hour later, I was back in my own clothes, standing at reception and giving them my carefully folded dress and shoes, which they’d agreed to look after for me. They’d also been kind enough to lend me a torch. I took a deep breath and headed out of the front door, ready to start my slightly drunken trek home.
‘Where the hell are you going?’ came an annoyed American voice. Miller! I turned around to face him, and my heart skipped a beat as he held my gaze this time. My God, he was just stunning.
‘Ermmm, hello, Miller. So nice to see you again. How have you been?’ I replied, with a little more sarcasm than I’d intended.
‘Well, you’d know if you’d called me. And don’t try to tell me you didn’t get my letter. I called the hotel when I didn’t hear from you and tracked down the barman who gave it to you, then threw it out at your request. After you read it!’ he shot back.
‘So that’s why you’ve avoided me all night? You’re mad I didn’t call you?’
‘Well … yeah!’ he scoffed, folding his arms across his chest and looking at me like I was stupid.
‘What was the point of me calling you? You live there, I live here, and from what I’ve heard, you’re not looking for a relationship, and I’m not looking for a one-night stand. We had a fun afternoon, but there was no point trying to make it into something it wasn’t.’
‘Who said I was looking for a one-night stand?’
‘I’ve heard your reputation. I’m not the sort of girl who goes for that.’
‘Well, you heard wrong, because I’m not into one-night stands either. I just haven’t met a girl I want to settle down with yet, so I date a lot. Maybe, just maybe, you’re exactly the kind of girl I’d like to get serious with, but you didn’t even give me a God damn chance, did you?’ He glowered at me, all six-foot-odd prime muscular male, simmering with tension. My God, suddenly I was feeling super hot out here on the doorstep in the freezing cold.
‘Why me? What’s so special about me?’ I asked hesitantly.
‘I don’t know, Abbie,’ he admitted with a shrug, relaxing his posture a little. ‘All I’m asking for is the chance to find out. I’d just like to get to know you better, spend some time with you. I thought we had a connection that day, then you blew me off.’
‘Maybe your ego is wounded that I didn’t call, as I can’t imagine you having to chase many women. Maybe that’s the only reason you’re interested, you see me as a challenge.’ I half-believed my comeback. I mean sure, I was hard on myself. I was attractive enough, but I wasn’t a stunning, glamorous model type, the type I could see him with. He was so far out of my league, I was getting vertigo from looking up at him.
‘I liked you the moment I met you, Abbie. Was I annoyed that you didn’t call me? Sure. I’ve never chased a woman in my life, and you have no idea how many times I went to ask Rachel for your number, then stopped myself. But when I heard you were going to be here, I decided I’d come and wait to see if you’d apologise to me. And you didn’t, which annoyed me even more.’
‘Well, it’s not like I had a chance,’ I bit back. ‘You had Fi-Fi hanging on you most of the time, and every time I got near you, you moved away.’
‘First of all, I never encouraged her, and secondly, I was supposed to make it easy for you? Like hell. And now I find you running away, to God knows where.’
‘I’m not running, but I need to get home. I can’t get a taxi so I’m going to walk.’
‘In this weather?’ he frowned, his look of annoyance turning to one of concern. ‘Do you live nearby?’
‘Two miles away.’
‘No way,’ he stated firmly, reaching out to grab my arm before hustling me back into the reception hall. ‘You can stay here.’
‘I can’t. For one, they have no rooms and for another, I have to get home.’
‘Well, you’re not walking on your own.’
‘It’s two miles in the Shropshire countryside on a snowy night. It’s hardly a “Scott of the Antarctic” expedition. I’m not going to be mauled by a vicious polar bear or develop frost bite,’ I muttered stubbornly, sure I could smell cinnamon on him again. It made the butterflies in my tummy go crazy.
‘Well, I should hope not,’ he laughed.
‘What’s so funny?’ I demanded as I pulled my arm from his grasp, annoyed with him now. He’d ignored me all night, and now he was trying to lay down the law? I had no idea what was going on with us, but the chemistry sizzling between us now was unmistakable.
‘Polar bears don’t live in the Antarctic, completely different side of the globe. You’d be more likely to be eaten by penguins,’ he chuckled.
‘Flesh-eating ones?’ I asked as I softened to see his smile.
‘Well no, not this time. Penguins are too cute to be made into flesh-eating creatures,’ he replied. ‘Look, I’m sorry, ok? You didn’t call, it threw me. I came here spoiling for a fight instead of talking to you like an adult. But regardless, there’s no way I’m letting you walk home. You can stay here. I have a large suite, I can sleep on the couch if you don’t want to share a bed.’
‘I can’t,’ I replied with a shake of my head, thinking how much I would love to share a bed with him. ‘I have to get home.’
‘Do you have some children I don’t know about?’
‘Sort of. An elderly bulldog. My neighbours will have been to feed him this afternoon, but they were going away for a pre-Christmas break with their son straight after. I can’t leave him alone until the morning.’
‘Surely he won’t starve overnight?’ Miller questioned.
‘No, he has enough fat to live on for at least a few weeks,’ I giggled. ‘But he’ll need a poo, and you have no idea how flatulent and gassy this dog is. Sometimes when I take him out for his night-time tinkle and dinner expulsion, it’s like someone making a poop smoothie without the lid on the blender, crap flies everywhere. There’s no way I want to come back to a house that’s been redecorated a lovely shade of brown, thank you very much!’
‘He can’t be that bad,’ Miller laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
‘Trust me, I’m under-exaggerating. Besides, he’s old and he loves his routines. Even though he’s a cantankerous old bugger who doesn’t appreciate me, I don’t like the thought of him being alone all night.’
‘Ok then, give me five minutes,’ Miller relented.
‘For what?’
‘To get changed into something more appropriate to escort the damsel in distress home.’
‘I can’t ask you to do that, it’s miles!’ I gasped, stunned at the offer.
‘According to you, it’s an easy walk, or were you under-exaggerating that as
well?’ he asked, a disapproving tone in his voice.
‘No, it’s two miles, mainly on the flat, apart from one quite sharp uphill, but it’s too far to ask you to come.’
‘You didn’t ask, I’m volunteering. And if it’s too far for me, it’s definitely too far for you, especially alone. You can either sit here and wait or come up with me, but either way, I’m walking you home, Abbie Carter. It will be a good chance for us to get to know each other a little better.’
‘Why are you being so nice? I’m not going to put out, if that’s what you’re hoping,’ I warned. He chuckled again and ran a hand through his hair.
‘I already told you I’m not that kind of guy. Are you always so cynical of men?’
‘Ones who are too good looking for their own good, yes,’ I nodded with a smile.
‘Well, even good-looking guys can be chivalrous. Maybe I’m hoping that after I’ve rescued you and your gassy dog, you’ll accept my number this time and call me after I leave.’
‘Go get changed then,’ I sighed, finally relenting. He grinned, then turned and took the stairs three at a time while I openly ogled his peachy backside in his fitted suit as he went.
He was right. This was the perfect chance to get to know him better, to try and fathom why on earth he was interested in a girl like me. I’d seen Fi-Fi flirting outrageously with him for most of the night. It seemed the harder she tried, the more turned off he got. Maybe that really was his thing, he loved a challenge. Well, I was definitely that. There was a reason I was still single at twenty-eight.
‘God damn it,’ I screeched, laughing my head off as I lost my footing again, my legs shooting out from under me. I landed with a thud on my backside and started sliding backwards down the hill. Miller laughed, his hands on his hips, as I tipped sideways into the hedge, and it dumped a heavy load of snow on me. I was soaked. Again. This was getting to be a theme around him. My Uggs, which had kept my feet beautifully warm for a while, weren’t snow protected and were starting to soak up the cold moisture, and they weren’t exactly designed for climbing up a steep and icy hill. The snow on the main road had been compacted by cars earlier, making it like glass, then it had been covered with more snow, so you couldn’t even see where the worst patches of ice were, and there was no pavement to try and traverse up. I spat a load of snow out of my mouth as Miller approached, hauled me up, and dusted me off. ‘This hill will be the death of me, I’m never going to make it up.’
Never the Bride (Dilbury Village #1) Page 7