Stand-In Saturday: (A standalone romcom. Book 2 in the Love For Days series)

by Kirsty Moseley

  His eyes meet mine, and I can see genuine concern there. “What if Amy’s changed her mind overnight? I haven’t spoken to her since yesterday. What if she stands me up at the altar? What if she decides that, actually, she doesn’t want to marry a grumpy bastard like me?”

  I scoff at the ludicrous things spewing from his mouth. That’s why he looks like he’s about to have a prostate exam? Jeez, talk about ridiculous. “She won’t change her mind! Amy is utterly smitten with you. She’s been harping on about this damn wedding and getting all jazzed about it since you put that engagement ring on her finger. I can hand-on-heart promise you that Amy will not change her mind about marrying you.”

  The tension in his shoulders seems to loosen at my words, and he huffs a breath and rakes a hand over his face. “Thanks, Theo. I’ll be happier once I have my other ring on her finger.”

  “Any minute now, buddy. Stop worrying. Today is going to be great.”

  “I hope I don’t pass out,” Jared grunts, taking a deep breath and looking up at the cloudless sky.

  I chuckle and pat his shoulder. Tim gets out of his seat near the front then, rendering my next assurances unnecessary. He’s tapping away on his phone as he stops next to Jared.

  “Heather’s just texted me. Amy’s not budging on her decision about her entrance. She wants to walk herself up the aisle.” His eyebrows pull together, and I notice the disappointed slump to his shoulders.

  Amy’s dad has never been around; instead, she was raised by her mum and nanna. With no father figure to speak of, I know Tim has offered several times to give her away, but she’s rebuffed all advances, claiming she is a strong, independent woman who can walk of her own volition.

  Jared nods. “I told you. She said if it’s good enough for Meghan Markle, it’s good enough for her.” His smile is proud as he tweaks his already-perfect tie and brushes non-existent dirt from his lapel. He’s such a perfectionist. At least his colour is coming back now though.

  More people arrive, and each time they do, my eyes swing in the direction of the door. I don’t want to admit to myself that I’m looking for Lucie, but I totally am. When she finally does step out of the door, her arm linked through Peggy’s, the smile on her face is so radiant that it brings one to my own.

  I can’t take my eyes off her. She looks incredible. Her hair is up, elegantly twisted at the back of her head. She’s not wearing her sexy glasses, so I assume she’s donned contacts again. Her lips are painted a bright ruby red, which makes them look so kissable that my mouth starts to water, just thinking about it. Her dress is pale blue with small flowers on it. It has spaghetti straps, is fitted across her bust and waist, and flows out from her hips down to the floor. As she walks, a slit on one side from the floor to mid-thigh shows a flash of skin that makes my pulse race. The material is all floaty and flowy; it’s perfect. Tall, strappy silver sandals complete the outfit. She looks like a knockout.

  Amy’s nanna leads her over to the front row on the bride’s side, and I watch her every move. When she perches on a seat, she finally looks up at me, and we make eye contact. Her smile almost knocks me sideways. I’m having trouble staying at the altar and not going to her side.

  Hi, she mouths to me.

  Hi, I mouth back. I point to her. Beautiful.

  Our conversation is silent, but I can practically hear her thoughts as her cheeks flush a gorgeous shade of pink, and she grins down at her lap.

  When she looks up at me again, I send her a wink and force myself to turn my attention back to Jared, so I don’t neglect my best-man duties. The last few people file in. I see Amy’s mum slip into her seat next to Peggy, and then the music starts.

  There are collective gasps and murmurs of excitement as everyone stands and turns, wanting to watch Amy’s entrance. I watch Jared, setting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing supportively as, first, Carys and then Heather make the walk up the aisle, both grinning broadly in their pretty pink bridesmaid gowns. The tension leaves Jared’s body as soon as Amy steps out of the door. He lets out an appreciative groan, and his whole face lights up. He’s beaming with happiness and pride, and I’ve never seen him look so elated. It makes my stomach clench.

  I turn my head, wanting to see her too. Amy holds her head high as she walks slowly down the carpet towards us, carrying a pretty bouquet of pink and white roses. I smile as I catch sight of her.

  Of course, she didn’t choose a conventional white dress. I should have known.

  Her dress is sleeveless and has a lacy white V-neck top. Then, there’s a pink ribbon tied around her waist that matches the shade of her hair pretty perfectly. The bottom of the dress is made of layers and layers of blush-pink-coloured tulle; it flows and cascades like a waterfall down to the floor and swishes as she walks. It’s gorgeous. She looks stunning, just like a princess.

  As she Meghan Markles herself down the aisle to marry my twin, grinning and saying hello to people as she walks past them, I realise that I’m not as devastated as I thought I’d be. In fact, I’m not devastated at all. I thought this would be agony, watching the girl I wanted to be with marry my brother, but instead, I’m just incredibly happy for them both.

  It’s then that I realise that maybe it was never her that I was hung up on but the idea of her. All this time, perhaps it was never actually Amy I wanted but more that I wanted my own Amy. Someone to look at me as if I’m the centre of her world and like I’m the person she can’t live without. Someone who completes me, like Amy completes Jared. I’ve never had that. I’ve had a few girlfriends over the years. One or two of them turned semi-serious, but they soon tired of me when they realised I was basically an unambitious child trapped in a man’s body.

  All this time, I thought I was jealous because I wanted Amy for myself, but really, I was jealous of what Jared has with her.

  The epiphany hits me just as Amy steps to my brother’s side and smiles up at him, letting out a little sigh, as if she’s now home.

  I want that.

  I want to be that to someone.

  My eyes unconsciously flick back to Lucie. She’s watching Amy and Jared. Her hands are clasped together under her chin, and her smile is huge as her teeth sink into her bottom lip. As if she knows I’m watching her, she glances back at me, and our eyes meet. The soft green to them captures me, and I can’t look away as I get a warm, fuzzy feeling inside.

  That’s when I have my second epiphany … I like Lucie. I like her a lot actually—not just in a friendly way.

  And that’s a big problem because we’re only an agreement, merely a two-weekend, help each other out of a sticky situation, friendly agreement—complete with a signed contract stating that clear as day. Plus, I know for certain that she’s still in love with her cheating ex because our whole relationship started owing to the fact that we were both hung up on other people and we needed a fake companion to help us navigate through our situations with our respective crushes.

  So what if I think she’s adorable and being around her is as natural as breathing? So what if she makes me laugh until my stomach hurts? So what if I think she’s hot as sin? I can’t have her because that’s not the agreement we made. This whole thing is almost over. Tomorrow, we’ll go our separate ways, and then I’ll see her just one more time at her father’s party, where she plans on using me to make her ex jealous.

  The knowledge hurts more than it should. I’m genuinely gutted.

  fifteen

  Lucie

  Oh, man, I’m crying!

  Amy’s mum leans over and hands me a tissue when I sniff in a very unladylike fashion. I smile a thanks, and she grins back before letting out a watery sob of her own and dabbing at her eyes.

  It’s crazy really. I met these people less than two days ago, and now, I’m crying because I’m over the moon for them.

  I let out a little dreamy sigh and look back to the happy couple. With the water behind them and the sun shining, it’s the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever been to. Amy looks incredible, and as
ide from the colour of the skirt and the pink ribbon, her dress is not too dissimilar from the wedding dresses I used to fawn over when planning my own nuptials to Lucas—though I would never have chosen to wear a pair of lacy Converse as my wedding shoes like Amy has. A small pang of regret and sadness hits me out of nowhere as I realise that this would have been me next spring if Lucas had managed to refrain from bumping uglies with his hot personal trainer.

  Amy and Jared are so cute together. Looking at them now makes my whole body break out in goose bumps. Jared is staring into Amy’s eyes as if she’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen, and she’s beaming up at him like he’s the winning lottery numbers. They’re holding hands, his thumb absentmindedly tracing over the back of her hand, her body unconsciously leaning into his. It’s almost like there are magnets pulling them together. Their chemistry is palpable, and their happy smiles make my heart ache. I must admit, more than once in the last couple of days, I’ve been a little envious of the way that Jared looks at his fiancée. It’s everything. He clearly adores her; it makes me wish I had that with someone.

  Watching them now, I can’t help but wonder … did Lucas and I look like that to outsiders?

  Even at the start of our relationship, I don’t think so. Even though I was only eighteen when we first got together, he was five years older and at a different stage in life, so we totally skipped the randy-as-teenagers and stupid-in-love stages of a relationship and went straight to the serious, long-term stuff. At the time, I didn’t mind. I had known Lucas for pretty much most of my life, so when our relationship evolved from friendship to romantic, it felt like the natural next step. But now, looking at Jared and Amy as he pushes the ring onto her finger and then loops his little finger around hers, dipping his head, brushing his nose across her cheek and whispering something in her ear that makes her chew her lip and her eyelids flutter closed, I can’t help but feel a bit cheated.

  In our eight years together, Lucas was never like this with me. Never affectionate in public or romantic, never spontaneous. He never looked at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off. Behind closed doors, our sex life was satisfying, and I had no complaints, but even in private, there was never the hand-holding, touching, snuggling on the sofa, or the desperate need to rub over each other like animals sort of thing that I can see in Amy and Jared’s eyes. We were never wild with lust for each other.

  I hadn’t known I wanted that.

  My gaze flicks to the best man, checking to see if he is okay. Poor Theo. Today must be hard for him, considering he has a thing for Amy, but I can’t see any signs of it on his face. He was his fine, comical self this morning when we woke up, and he doesn’t look like he’s about to have a mental breakdown now. He’s hiding his hurt well. I hate that I feel a little jealous about it.

  As my eyes wander over him, I swallow down a wave of lust. Theo in a tux is the stuff that dirty fantasies are made of. He was wearing a suit with a T-shirt under when I first met him, but this three-piece suit is a masterpiece on his body. The waistcoat under his jacket with the pale pink tie combo, paired with his killer smile and hair that flops like it has a mind of its own? Perfection. This is the photo I should be sending to Aubrey. I commit it all to memory, every damn fine inch of it. Talk about swooning and wanting to rip someone’s clothes off! I’ve never seen a guy look more attractive. He could be in movies, looking like this, and would even give Tom Hardy a run for his money. I want nothing more than to slowly take him out of his suit, peel it from him inch by delectable inch.

  Although I had a lovely, relaxing pampering session this morning with the girls, today has actually been tough. I’ve been getting hot, inappropriate flashbacks of our night together all damn day, and it doesn’t help that my body aches a little too. I must have used muscles last night that I barely even remembered having. I can’t stop thinking about it: his cute, firm butt I saw this morning, the planes of that chest, the stubble chafing I have on the inside of my thighs, which meant his mouth was on me there. Jeez, I wish I could remember that part. It’s only, like, my most favourite thing ever.

  I’m getting flustered again. I shift on my seat as the ache that’s been lingering between my legs all day intensifies, and I force myself to stop thinking about him naked.

  My eyes bounce between Jared and Theo. When I first saw Jared on Thursday night in that bar, I remember wondering just how it was that Amy could have chosen between them. With them looking the same, I wondered how she could pick one over the other and fall in love. Now, I know. It’s so weird. They might look exactly alike, but personality-wise, they’re on different hemispheres. Jared is all quiet composure, neat edges, whip-smart, dependable, and adorable. In contrast, Theo is a loud, wild spirit. With Theo, you’d never know where you were going to end up—but he’d guarantee you would enjoy the journey. Looking at him leaves me a little breathless and giddy. It’s kind of like that scared exhilaration you get when you’re on a roller coaster, that thrill that causes your heart to race and makes you feel alive. It just so happens, I love roller coasters.

  The rest of the wedding is beautiful. After the guests have emptied their boxes of confetti over the happy couple as they walk up the aisle, hand in hand, Theo steps to my side. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he reaches out and catches a stray hair that’s escaped from my French twist, pushing it back into place, his fingers lingering against the shell of my ear. My whole body breaks out in goose bumps at the small, intimate gesture.

  Does he know how hot that is?

  I hold my breath and tilt my head to look up at him. His eyes burn into mine, making me feel a little weightless.

  “Hi,” he whispers.

  Bloody hell, can you come from one word? Because I think I just might have done it. “Hey.”

  “You look amazing. Really beautiful.” His eyes slowly rake over me. It’s the kind of look that makes you feel like you’re on fire; his gaze is almost a caress as it glides down my body. “Maybe you should have toned it down a little today, Luce. You know, it is the bride’s day after all. Surely, it’s bad etiquette to roll in, looking this hot and sassy with that delicious-looking slit up to your thigh, and hog all the limelight.”

  My breathing is shallow. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this turned on in my whole life—and he’s not even touching me. “I’m pretty sure no one is looking at me.” My voice comes out in an embarrassing, husky mess.

  “I am.”

  My heart squeezes at the sweetness, and I press my thighs together and clench my core to try and ease some of the pressure. I want nothing more than to drag him upstairs and get naked and sweaty.

  Feeling bold, I reach out and touch his tie, needing to ground myself a bit because I’m fast melting into a puddle at his feet. The tie is pure silk and slips against my fingertips as I smooth it down against the hard planes of his chest. “You look great too. How’s the head?” A blush creeps across my cheeks.

  “Thankfully better. Yours?”

  “Good now.”

  My hand is still on his chest. He looks down, catching it and bringing it closer to his face to look at my new powder-blue manicure with the flower art decals. One corner of his mouth kicks up into a sexy smirk.

  “Nice nails. Did you have fun with the girls?”

  I gulp and nod, struck mute as he slides his hand into mine, interlocking our fingers. Motioning behind him with his head, he gives me a gentle tug to get me moving. My legs feel slightly wobbly as he leads me over to the table the waiting staff has set up at the back of the patio. When we stop to each pick up a fruit-filled glass of Pimm’s, I press against him and revel in the feel of his hand wrapped around mine. It’s nice. His hand is soft and warm, and it dwarfs mine. My mind is instantly making the connection between the small skin-on-skin contact and other places he could put that hand on my body. A little shiver tickles down my spine.

  We have drinks on the patio, casually chatting with his friends and family. He holds my hand the whole time. As I laugh along with his au
nt about something, I realise that everything about Theo Stone is easy and effortless. This entire situation should be uncomfortable and awkward, but it’s not because it’s almost impossible to feel awkward around Theo. He radiates a positive energy that’s easy to get swept away in. Standing there with his friends and family, with his hand in mine and his thumb absentmindedly tracing a pattern around my knuckle, I realise I love spending time with him. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, I missed him all morning. We’ve pretty much spent two whole days in each other’s pockets, getting to know each other. I’ve fast grown used to his company and adorable, witty banter.

  When the function room is ready, we’re called to take our seats. I gasp as I step inside. It’s gorgeous. The carpet on the floor matches the cream tartan aisle Amy walked down outside, and the tablecloths covering the round tables are crisp white cotton. There are pink napkins, little pink table favours wrapped in silk, pink ribbon sashes tied around the back of each white wooden chair, shiny silver cutlery, and real crystal glasses. Beautiful flower arrangements sit in the centres of each table. Behind the top table, the wall is covered in white voile with fairy lights behind it. The whole effect is spectacular.

  Theo strides confidently across the room, guiding me along, heading for the long, lavish table at the head of the room.

  My breath catches, and my eyes widen when I realise that’s where I’m going to be sat—with everyone watching me eat. Talk about awkward.

  “Shit, am I sitting at the top table?” I mumble, squeezing his hand and gently pulling him to a stop.

  He nods and looks down at me. “Well, yeah. Where did you think you’d be? The cheap seats at the back? I’m the best man and twin. I deserve prime seating.” He grins that panty-wetting smile, and it momentarily dazzles me.

  “I know but …” My cheeks are burning as he tugs gently, getting me moving again.

  As he stops at the long table at the head of the room, he grins and pulls my chair out for me in a gentlemanly gesture that makes my heart stutter. Sitting, I notice that his name card is printed in fancy script while mine is written in black Biro. I chuckle as I pick it up and show Theo; it’s a little reminder of just how insane this whole idea is of me being here. I only met this man five and a half days ago, yet it feels like I’ve known him forever already.