A Surprise Christmas Wedding: from the best selling author of A Perfect Cornish Christmas comes one of the most feel-good winter romance books of 2020

by Phillipa Ashley

  ‘Wait!’ Her fingers closed around his wrist and she gave him a dreamy look. Jay was worried she might slip into unconsciousness.

  ‘Lottie never shuts up about you now … Jay this, Jay that.’ Steph smiled then shook her head like a child. ‘It used to be all Connor. Connor, Connor. On and on about him.’ She wagged her finer. ‘Not now. Jay, Jay, Jay.’

  Jay’s intrigue switched to confusion. ‘Connor?’

  Steph pulled him close to her face. ‘You’re not like Connor,’ she whispered. ‘He’s a shit. I thought they’d get married one day but he dumped her. You woodendotha’. You’re a nice guy.’

  Jay’s skin prickled with unease. Why would she say Lottie was obsessed with Connor? Was it simply the booze and meds talking or was there more to her relationship with Connor than a passing acquaintance and the wedding?

  Steph rested her head on his shoulder. Jay tried to move but she’d flung her arms around him. Her head slid off his shoulder and onto his lap and she closed her eyes.

  Jay sat there for a few seconds. Had Lottie been lying to him? The image of Connor, so perfectly at home in Lottie’s cottage, reared its head again. He saw it through new eyes and so many things dropped into place – none of them pleasant.

  However, his suspicions had to wait. His only priority was to find Lottie and help her get Steph safely home to the Bothy.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ‘OK, this is the final ticket. It’s a green one, number 23. Bumper box of Firholme biscuits!’ Lottie held the raffle ticket aloft and one of the Firholme security staff trotted forward to collect his prize.

  Her work was done.

  She stepped off the dais, eager to find Jay but even keener to track down Steph who she hadn’t seen for over half an hour. No matter what Steph had told her, Lottie felt bad about simply abandoning her sister, even if she was desperate to continue the delicious moment on the terrace with Jay.

  The DJ had started up the music again, and she was halfway across the dance floor when Shayla met her, an anxious look on her face.

  ‘Lottie! Now, I don’t want you to worry.’

  Lottie was instantly on the alert. ‘Worry about what?’

  ‘It’s Steph. I think it’s only the wine, but you’d better come all the same.’

  Lottie let out a groan. ‘I should have warned her to go easy but I didn’t want to be a killjoy. She’s had such a rough time. I should have stayed with her.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ Shayla said. ‘She’s with Jay.’

  They hurried out of the ballroom, where everyone was bellowing out The Pogues’ ‘Fairy Tale of New York’.

  ‘Jay?’

  ‘He found her on the banquette in the vestibule and came to find you but he saw me first. There they are.’

  Lottie ran over to where Steph was sprawled over Jay. He had his arm around her. ‘Oh my God, what happened?’ she asked, kneeling on the tiles by her sister’s feet. Steph’s eyes were closed and she was snoring, just like she used to when she’d been a child.

  ‘I came out of the gents’ and found her here. Actually, she called me over.’ He sounded none too pleased which caught Lottie off-guard.

  She squatted down so she was at the level of Steph’s face. ‘Steph?’

  Shayla stood nearby. ‘Do we need an ambulance?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ She rubbed Steph’s hands. ‘Steph! Can you hear me?’

  Her eyes flew open. ‘Of course, I can. I’m not bloody deaf!’

  ‘I should have been more careful.’ Lottie helped to extricate Steph from Jay and they both propped her upright.

  ‘Don’t blame yourself,’ Shayla said. ‘Steph’s been having a wonderful time. She seemed fine less than half an hour ago.’

  ‘I am here, you know …’ Steph muttered.

  ‘Steph, you’ve had a bit too much to drink,’ Lottie said.

  Steph lifted her head and sniggered. ‘No shit, Sherlock. Yeah. I’m drunk. Bladdered. Sloshed. Pissed. And I’m glad I’m pissed because at least I know I’m alive.’

  ‘Yes, but maybe we should go home, now.’

  ‘No … I wanna stay.’

  ‘I really think we should get you home. It’s late.’

  ‘Do you need a hand?’ Shayla offered.

  ‘I’ll help, if you want me to,’ Jay said.

  Lottie looked at them both. ‘Thanks. I’m sorry about this.’

  ‘It’s no problem,’ Jay said. ‘Shayla, I think we can manage together if you want to go back to the party.’

  ‘I’m not bothered about the party, but I might have to stay and keep order. There’s already been an incident between one of the gardeners and the man from the portable toilet firm.’

  Suddenly, Kerr appeared and hurried over. ‘I’ve been looking for Steph everywhere. Oh God, is she OK?’

  ‘She’s not feeling well,’ Lottie said.

  Kerr’s eyes widened in dismay when he saw the state of Steph. ‘She seemed fine half an hour ago. Can I call an ambulance? Help you take her back to the Bothy?’

  ‘She’s on medication and she doesn’t normally drink. Thanks for the offer but we can manage for now,’ Lottie said, grateful for the help but keen to deal with the situation with as few people as possible.

  ‘We’re fine, thanks, Kerr,’ Jay added.

  ‘I think we should leave Steph to Lottie and Jay,’ Shayla said. ‘She’s in good hands now.’

  ‘OK but call me if you need anything and let me know how she is,’ Kerr insisted.

  ‘We will,’ Lottie said and smiled her gratitude. ‘Thanks for offering to help.’

  ‘Come on, she’ll be OK.’ Shayla ushered him back to the ballroom.

  ‘I feel very sleeeepy,’ Steph murmured.

  Lottie let out a sigh of relief. ‘Time for bed, then.’

  ‘For you …’ Steph giggled. ‘On your own. Not with …’

  ‘Think we’d better go now,’ Lottie exclaimed.

  ‘Would you mind helping me?’ she asked Jay, desperate to move Steph before she passed out again.

  ‘Of course not. Come on.’

  He helped Steph to her feet.

  ‘I’ll take her,’ Lottie said.

  ‘Be careful. She’s heavier than you think and she’s a dead weight.’

  ‘Oy! You cheeky sod!’ Steph shot back, momentarily lucid. ‘Maybe you’re not so lovely after all.’

  ‘He’s trying to help, Steph.’

  ‘He says I’m fat.’ She let out a raucous laugh.

  ‘Steph. Shut up, please.’ Lottie pleaded then tried to laugh off Steph’s comments. ‘Don’t take any notice of her – she doesn’t know what she’s on about. Whoa!’

  Steph had slumped lower. Lottie dived in to support her. Even with her and Jay on either side of her, she was struggling to stay conscious.

  Lottie was in despair. ‘I’m not sure we’ll make it all the way to the Bothy.’

  Jay’s jaw was set. ‘Let’s give it a try.’

  Somehow, they managed to cajole and half-drag Steph out of the house. Lottie decided not to bother with the wrap and instead, Jay retrieved his jacket from a chair in the ballroom and helped Steph into it. There was no way she was going to be persuaded into the wellies though so they decided to hope for the best.

  While Jay supported Steph, Lottie scrambled into her own boots. Big wet flakes were falling, soaking them within moments of leaving the house. Slipping and slithering, they carried and coaxed Steph across the terrace and down the steps to the cottages. Without Jay, Lottie could never have managed.

  Despite her sodden dress and feet, Steph thought it was all a huge laugh.

  ‘You’re a keeper,’ she kept telling Jay.

  ‘Shh. Steph.’ Lottie was mortified.

  ‘A real nice guy … not like C—’

  ‘Steph!’ Lottie said, dreading what might emerge next from Steph’s mouth. Thank God they were now into the garden of the Bothy. Lottie was exhausted, her muscles were aching and her sparkly wrap was a cold
wet rag. Jay was right. Taking the weight of a whole person was no mean feat.

  Lottie had to let go of Steph to open the door, leaving Jay supporting her. Unexpectedly, she decided to break free of him and lie on the small patch of lawn outside the cottage. ‘Oh no, she’ll freeze,’ Lottie said.

  Steph was having a wonderful time, lying in the snow, waving her arms and legs up and down. ‘Iman angel. Angellll …’

  ‘More like a stranded beetle!’ Lottie cried in frustration. ‘Come on.’

  ‘Think I’ll go sleep now,’ said Steph, closing her eyes.

  ‘No. Not here. Oh God, she’s soaked and so’s your jacket.’

  ‘I don’t care about that.’ Jay kneeled down in the snow. ‘Help me get her sitting up. I’ll have to carry her.’

  It was hard enough helping her sit up but somehow Lottie and Jay did it. Grunting, he managed to get Steph in his arms and with Lottie’s help, hoisted her onto his shoulder, fireman style. He did let slip a few grunts and rude words, but Lottie didn’t think Steph was in any fit state to be offended.

  He made it through the front door and hallway into Lottie’s sitting room. Steph was dumped rather unceremoniously on the sofa but at least it was a soft landing.

  She lay back with a dramatic sigh and a beatific smile on her face, oblivious to the fact her clothes were dripping. Lottie wished she hadn’t let the fire die down in the sitting room.

  ‘I don’t think I can undress her but we could get the jacket off,’ Lottie suggested.

  Together they pulled off the soaking jacket and removed Steph’s silver sandals. Lottie fetched some towels and rubbed her feet and legs dry while Jay went to put the heating on and find the spare duvet from the airing cupboard. While she was upstairs, Lottie changed into her pyjamas and a dressing gown. Passing the cubby hole, she had a thought.

  ‘Oh!’ She couldn’t stifle her surprise when she found Jay shirtless in the sitting room, rubbing his torso with a large towel. She’d imagined how his body might look but wasn’t prepared for the reality. Years of outdoor work, hauling logs and wielding heavy equipment had given him a naturally honed physique. It was impossible not to gawp and the sight of him stirred up the same feelings of desire she’d felt when he’d kissed her, except this time they were undercut by her concern for Steph and unease at her hints about Connor.

  He wrapped the bath sheet around his shoulders.

  ‘I brought you this, in case … it’s the only thing big enough.’ She handed over a large knitted poncho that had been a present from her auntie. ‘You don’t have to wear it. I won’t be offended.’

  She held it out, expecting Jay to laugh but only being met with a murmured ‘Thanks.’

  ‘It was from my auntie. It’s miles too big but it will keep you warm until you’re back in the cottage. I don’t think it would do you any good to walk even that far without your top on,’ she said, even though she’d have relished any opportunity to keep him shirtless for as long as possible.

  ‘Thanks.’ He pulled the poncho over his head, instantly covering his gorgeous torso with the garish wool.

  ‘I’ll sleep down here in the chair in case she’s sick.’

  ‘Do you want me to stay?’

  She’d have loved his company but didn’t want him to hear any more of Steph’s ramblings. ‘No, thank you. You’ve done more than enough. Don’t you want to get back to the party?’

  ‘Oh, I think I’ve had enough of it now.’

  Steph’s lips moved. ‘You are a lovely guy, Jay.’

  Lottie rolled her eyes. ‘I’m sure she’ll regret all this tomorrow.’

  Steph rambled on. ‘A lovely lovely guy and you need someone luverly like our Lottie.’

  Lottie cringed and judging by Jay’s cool expression, he wasn’t impressed either.

  ‘Steph. Shut up.’ She opened the door to usher Jay into the hall. ‘Best leave her now. You’ve done more than enough.’

  ‘Dong Dong Merrily on higheeeee!’ Steph caterwauled from the sitting room.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow probably,’ Lottie said. ‘It’s been a hell of an evening.’

  ‘Yeah …’ Jay said, turning to the door. ‘It sure has.’

  With that he walked across the garden into his own cottage.

  Lottie shut her door and leaned against it, with a sigh of relief before settling down in the chair and pulling the duvet over herself. The evening hadn’t ended how she’d dreamed it might but it could have been far worse: she’d stopped Steph from blabbing about Connor.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Lottie kept watch in a chair until she’d made sure Steph was OK, and finally dragged herself up to bed in the small hours. After a restless night, she got up and made herself some strong coffee and two doorstep slices of toast. The last thing she felt like doing the morning after the party was joining the clear-up group in the ballroom.

  Eventually, Steph appeared in the kitchen doorway, wearing Lottie’s dressing gown and a face whiter than the cottage loaf.

  She leaned against the frame. ‘Urghh.’

  ‘Morning,’ Lottie said, torn between sympathy and – not.

  ‘Morning.’ Steph fumbled her way onto the kitchen stool.

  Lottie pushed a large mug of coffee towards her, together with a packet of paracetamol.

  ‘Thanks. I’ve had two already.’ She lifted the mug, sipped and pulled a face. ‘That’s strong enough to strip paint.’

  ‘I thought it might help. Toast?’ Lottie nibbled a slice slathered in butter and home-made apricot jam. It was her failsafe cure for a heavy night, not that she’d had many in the past year.

  ‘Not right now.’ Steph grimaced. ‘Er, do you mind not crunching that toast quite so loudly?’

  Lottie popped the crust in her mouth and munched louder than ever.

  Steph looked at her in disgust. ‘Do I detect a slight edge to the way you’re devouring that innocent crust?’

  ‘Why on earth would I be on edge?’

  ‘I dunno, but you seem a little tetchy.’

  ‘Really?’ Lottie picked up her knife and it accidentally-on-purpose slipped onto her plate with a clatter that echoed around the kitchen.

  Steph squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Oh God. I’m sorry.’ After another sip of coffee, during which Lottie remained silent, she said, ‘I seem to recall Jay helping you get me home last night. I’m sorry if I was a pain. I’m no party animal these days and I probably shouldn’t have had as much fizz as I did.’

  ‘You were ready to celebrate. I can understand that …’

  ‘You have that look: the bottled-up one. The one where you’re keeping something back from me, while bursting to say it. I call it your pressure cooker look.’

  ‘Pressure cooker?’ Lottie buttered the crust of her toast. ‘Don’t be daft. You’re imagining things.’

  ‘I’m not. You’ve always done it. You’re hiding something … I know you were when I was ill too. You were really gutted about Connor and yet I was too ill to support you properly.’

  Lottie chewed her toast, and raised her eyebrows.

  ‘What exactly did I do then?’ Steph asked. ‘Last night, I mean. I must have been a bit lairy judging by your face and the way my head is pulsating like something from Alien this morning. In fact, it might explode at any moment and a slimy creature of doom will burst out.’

  ‘Can’t you remember?’ Lottie said, refusing to be diverted by Steph’s attempt at humour.

  ‘Not much. I expect I might have been a bit loud … I might have fallen over.’

  ‘Yes, you were loud and you fell over.’

  Steph put her head in her heads and groaned. ‘Anything else?’

  Lottie picked her plate up. ‘Oh, nothing too disastrous.’

  ‘Nothing too disastrous?’ She lifted her head. ‘Oh my God, what did I say?’

  ‘Like I said, nothing major … only that you told Jay he deserved someone “luverly” like me.’

  ‘Oh, sh-sh sugar!’ Steph squealed. ‘I’m so
sorry, Lottie. I can’t remember saying that … though I did babble on quite a bit. I was muttering all kinds of stuff …’ She sipped her coffee, avoiding Lottie’s eye. ‘But I’m sure Jay won’t have taken any notice of me.’

  Lottie’s stomach knotted. ‘What kind of stuff?’ she said, putting down the plate again.

  ‘Um. I might have mentioned Connor, in passing.’

  Lottie’s blood ran cold. ‘Oh hell. I hope not. I’d thought you were going to at one point but I stopped you in time. When was this?’

  ‘I think it must have been when he came to find me on the sofa thingy outside the ballroom. Sorry, Lottie, but it keeps coming to me in snatches, like a programme that hasn’t recorded properly.’

  ‘Oh, Steph. Arghh.’ Lottie winced as her own head throbbed – and not due to a hangover but the monumental mess-up.

  ‘Look, don’t panic. You can say I’m still on meds and it was the drugs talking.’

  ‘I don’t want to tell him any more lies. He has big trust issues as it is.’

  Steph gave her a hard stare. ‘What do you mean, “trust issues”?’

  ‘He had a bad time with his ex. It’s complicated and the main point is I didn’t want him to know that Connor and I had been so close.’

  Steph sighed. ‘I’m sorry, hon, but I thought the secrecy was killing you anyway? Jay would probably have found out you were involved on the wedding day when the rest of Connor’s clan turn up. Especially Fiona for a start. Have you thought of that?’

  Lottie had – she’d hardly thought of anything else – but hoped in the moment Fiona wouldn’t care who was organising the wedding. ‘You’re right. I should have told him but … I didn’t want to lose the booking for Firholme and have everyone feeling sorry for me when they knew he was my ex. Plus I’d rather Jay found out when I wanted him to. Connor being my ex, is different to being an old friend.’

  Steph heaved a sigh. ‘Oh, crap. You’re really upset about it, aren’t you?’

  ‘It’s too late to worry now.’

  ‘But you are worried and you’re annoyed with me.’ Steph’s voice took on a dangerous edge but Lottie was fired up with indignation.