Still The One
A Weddings On Waiheke Novella
Louisa George
Copyright © 2016 by Louisa George
STILL THE ONE
All rights reserved.
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**THIS BOOK WAS PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED UNDER THE TITLE Baby, It’s Hot Outside**
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Cover design by Melody Simmons
With thanks to Sue MacKay and Rachel Bailey for all your input and to Rhonda Helms for your help editing this book into shape.
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This book is for all those readers who, like me, believe in second chances.
Contents
About the book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue
Thanks for reading!
Sneak Peak!
Also by Louisa George
About the Author
About the book
She broke his heart once, now she’s back to do it again…
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When rugged cop Daniel Wade agrees to help organize his friend's Christmas wedding it brings him face-to-face with the bridesmaid, his estranged wife. Emma is determined that divorce is on the cards, but sometimes all it takes is another chance to get things right...
Chapter 1
The trouble with weddings, Daniel Wade observed as he picked his way through the teetering piles of gold and silver wrapped gifts on his friend’s lounge floor, was the expectation.
Expectation that the Best Man’s speech would be hilarious. Check. He’d been rehearsing the damned thing for days.
That the bridesmaids would be beautiful. Definitely. Without a doubt. One in particular. Stunning. Heartbreakingly beautiful.
That there would be tears. Not his.
No one ever mentioned the disappointment. All that fancy wrapping, but when you’ve torn away the glitz the only things left are a pile of crock, a huge overdraft, and a healthy disregard for the future.
Although, the hole in Dan’s chest at the thought of his own ill-fated marriage didn’t feel particularly healthy. It felt raw—even after two years of being apart, of living without her. Of learning not to love her. And failing.
And damn, but he’d thought he was over her.
Daniel fixed a non-too sarcastic smile on his face, trying not to let his cynicism spoil his best mate’s wedding weekend. Maybe Bas and Megan would last. Maybe theirs was a true happy ending love story. Maybe pigs flew.
Bas’s tiny old colonial villa was brimming with every kind of festivity. Silver and red party streamers looped across the lounge ceiling, a Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner sheltering piles of Christmas presents. The place looked like the grotto of gaudy. A playlist chimed out Christmas songs about love and babies.
Yeah, Christmas and a wedding—the double whammy of cheese. Bas’s wife-to-be, Megan, was a sucker for celebrations so a Christmas Day wedding was her idea of utter heaven. And Daniel’s idea of pure unadulterated hell.
He called across the empty room, “Hey honey, I’m home.”
“Finally. Dan, the very late best man.” Cristian Basso—Bas to his friends—appeared from the kitchen, a beer bottle in hand and a grim look on his face. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Naw…did you miss me?” Daniel tried for positive as he shook his mate’s hand. Because he understood exactly what he was going through. Their roles had been reversed when Dan got married four years ago. “I was at work and you knew that. One of us has to keep the good folks of Waiheke Island on the straight and narrow. We can’t all swan around in pre-matrimonial bliss and ignorance. Talking of which, how are you feeling? Like a condemned man? Or all good?”
“I’m good now that you’re here. An hour late. And not even bothered to change into civvies.” Bas shook his head wearily at Daniel’s police uniform and took a slug of beer from the bottle. So yeah, maybe he should have gone home to change but that would have added more minutes and another whole level of groom-nag. Which was clearly already starting to escalate. “This is supposed to be a mix-and-mingle party for the out of town guests to get to know everyone else. And it’s painful, so I need some moral support.”
“I’m right here, man. Tell me what you need.”
“You’re the best man—you should be hosting the damned thing. It’s meant to be a wedding weekend, Dan.” Uncharacteristically, Bas was pacing. The man was freaked. By his own wedding. “We have something planned for each day, finishing with the ceremony on Monday—you can’t just saunter up for that and miss out everything else. Tell me you’re going to be around and not off mooching on your own on that rusting tin boat of yours?”
“Whoa. Simmer down. Stop panicking. For you, my friend, I’ve gotten time off from the end of my shift tomorrow. I’ll be there. Saturday, Sunday and Monday. With Christmas bells on. I’d move in here for the duration if my presence is that important to you—but three’s a crowd and all that…” Daniel wandered through to the kitchen and helped himself to a ginger beer from the fridge. “I swear this time it was not my fault I was late. We got a drunk driver just before the shift ended and you know the crapload of paperwork that comes with that. You did the right thing taking a month off.”
“If I hadn’t, Meg would have divorced me before we’d even got married.” Bas laughed. “Summer holidays are only just beginning, no doubt there’ll be a few more before it’s over. Waiheke is vineyard central and this is the season to be jolly after all.”
“Sure, but not in charge of a vehicle. When will people learn?” Driving safely was hard enough, mix it up with alcohol and, man…At the far reaches of his brain Daniel registered a memory. A momentary panic. The ramped up heart beat. The sense of abject loss. But, where once he’d have sunk deep into the debilitating emotions, this time he acknowledged them and then let them go. No way was he going to allow the past to get in the way of this weekend, or any other weekend for that matter. Not any more.
Bas scraped a chair out from underneath the table and sat down. “Anyone I know?”
“Nah. Just a holidaymaker, partaken of a bit too much of the local vino.” Daniel pulled a beer out of the fridge, flicked the lid off and handed the bottle to Bas. “I love living here; I can totally live the island dream, but when it gets summer-crazy and Christmas-busy I want to jump on the first ferry off.”
“Yeah, and sometimes I want to push you off it too. Like right now. You’re off duty, so switch off work and put your wedding head on. How’s the speech prep going? You still got the rings?”
“And I thought it was the women who went all Bridezilla.” Daniel slapped his mate on the back and sat down opposite him. They went a long way back. Their mums always laughed about how the two boys had met in the sandpit in kindergarten and on first sight had started a discussion about whose digger was the bestest, fastest, biggest. They’d been locked in a sort of competitive mateship ever since. Of course Daniel wouldn’t let his friend down. But it was a long time since he’d seen him freaked out like this. “Chill a little, it’s all under control.”
Bas nodded, shoving a hand across his regulation cop buzz cut. “Between you and me, bro, I’m getting a little out of my comfort zone here. For a start I don’t care what color the plac
e cards are or who sits next to who and I definitely don’t know anything about wedding favors.”
“Believe me, they are not what you’re thinking.” More’s the pity. Plus, Daniel knew exactly who he didn’t want to sit next to at the wedding breakfast, but he had no doubt that Best Man and Maid of Honor protocol meant they’d have to sit close. Unless he could convince the bride and groom to go against centuries of tradition—- he doubted they’d do that, even for him.
He threw his mate a conciliatory grin. “You were born for this, Bas. All that 'til death us do part bit…you’ll be just fine. And Meg—well, she’s definitely the girl for you. Anyone who can put up with your ego needs a bloody medal. And…well, it’s clear you love each other.” There, he was getting a little soppy in his old age. “You’ll both be great at the husband and wife stuff.”
Not like him.
“Talking of wives…” Bas leaned closer and jerked his head towards the backdoor, for once genuine concern showing on that ugly face of his. “She’s here. Flew in last night. Outside, talking to Meg.”
“Shit, where’s the emergency exit?” Daniel’s stomach tightened. Worse, his heart raced and jittered like a puppy with a new toy. He glanced around, making a joke of being nervous.
As it was, he didn’t need to pretend. The last time he’d seen Emma he’d been in a bad way; he couldn’t even remember the words he’d used, the things he’d said. But he could remember the way she’d looked at him. The haunted eyes, the disappointment. The relief that she was leaving him. That was burned into his memory like a brand. After five blissful years things had changed so irrevocably that she’d grown to hate him, and the pathetic thing was, he couldn’t blame her.
As if sensing Daniel’s discomfort Bas looked at him. “You okay? Not wanting a beer?”
“Yes. But I’m not going to have one.”
Bas looked at him a long moment. He didn’t need to say anything, he’d walked the road with Daniel these last few years. He knew how it went. More, he’d been Dan’s unerring supporter. “Fair enough. Good on you.”
“I’m giving it my best shot, mate. One day at a time.” Dan picked up Bas’s empty bottle. “I’ll just tidy up here before Megan gets on our backs for being untidy-”
“Bas? Bas?” The gentle tinkle of chardonnay-fuelled giggles floated in on the warm summer breeze as someone came in through the back of the house, the porch screen clattering against the doorjamb. The voice behind him got louder as it neared. “Hey! Bas! Meg says she needs you outside to help fix the fairy lights—oh—”
Daniel caught the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle and something else—something so familiar it had him swiveling round. He sucked in air.
Emma.
He wasn’t prepared for the jolt of heat that ricocheted through him at seeing her again after these last few empty years. She’d come to an abrupt halt, eyes guarded. Cool liquid blue pupils fixed on him. A taut jaw, a tight purse of those kissable lips. Her long auburn hair had been shoved on top of her head in a high messy ponytail, but tendrils drifted round her cheeks as she whipped her head from Daniel to Bas and back again. She was wearing a soft yellow dress with thin straps that showcased her body. Curves that had fitted into his hands perfectly. Long legs that he’d loved wrapped round him.
And immediately he was flung back to that first endless summer when everything had seemed possible. Even a hastily arranged wedding. Turned out being possible and being permanent were two different things.
He figured a hug was out of the question.
“Welcome back to Waiheke, Emma. Oh, and merry Christmas.” He tilted Bas’s empty bottle towards her in greeting, going for casual and knowing his face was anything but. So much for all that training at cop school.
Hers went from porcelain to beetroot in a nano-second. Clearly he still had an effect on her. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “Danny. Hello.”
Danny. The only person in the world who called him that. Danny was someone else, someone in the murky past. “How was England?”
“Great. Thanks. But it’s good to be back home. Er…How’s things?”
Home? Since when was it home for Emma? She’d always had itchy feet. She was never going to stay on Waiheke, she’d made that clear the day she’d met him and he’d promised to chase that dream with her. But life had thrown other plans at him. “Ah, you know. I’m the same as ever.”
She looked at the beer bottle in his hand. “So I see. Some things never change, eh?”
“I guess not.”
But he had. And how. That was a battle he’d fought hard and won—no point locking horns with her over it. He was of the mind to let it all go. This was Bas’s pre-wedding party, after all, he didn’t want to spoil it.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw his friend disappear outside. Traitor. Daniel dragged his eyes from Emma and started towards the back door. “I should probably go and help Bas with the preparations.”
“Running out on me already? Really? You can’t even bear to be in the same room as me for one whole minute?” Her eyebrows rose. She bit her bottom lip. Wary. Tense. “There was me thinking I’d left the frostbite behind.”
“Still waiting for the thaw, Em.” And yet there was heat mixed with the ice he’d constructed around his chest. It had been his fault she’d left without him in the first place. He wasn’t angry with her, just angry with himself. With the fact that they hadn’t been strong enough to deal with the crap thrown in their path. And now they were stuck in a place neither wanted to be in; married and separated and living at the opposite ends of the world. “I’m needed out there, apparently. I have a job to do…and, to be honest, I just don’t know what the hell to say to you.”
He should probably start with I’m sorry. But he’d never been good at verbalizing.
“You and me both.” Holding on to the back of a chair Emma took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them the wariness had diminished a little. She even attempted a smile. Small, but there it was. “Look, I know we have a lot of stuff to go through but tonight we’re here for Bas and Megan—can we at least try to be civil?”
“Sure. I can do that.”
“Good. Thank you. It means a lot. She is my best friend—and he’s yours—and it’s a special time for them. I don’t want to ruin things.”
“Noted. I can do civil no problem. I’ll keep out of your way—that seems to work.” A whole weekend of celebrations to get through where he’d be regularly rubbing shoulders with his runaway wife. Great.
Then his eyes settled on hers and held for a moment. He remembered a time when he would stare into her gaze and feel as if he could see right down to her soul. Now all he could see was awkwardness. There was so much they needed to say, so much that needed working through, but he didn’t know where to start.
Worse, that tug was still there. That irresistible pull towards her. For a few years they’d circled each other, created a life of love and fun and laughter, everything had started and ended with them, with their dreams, their cozy world, their precious unbreakable bond. Now they didn’t even know how to begin.
He stayed exactly where he was. “So, in the interests of being civil, tell me where you’re staying? At your mum’s, I presume?”
Emma sighed, her gaze dipping to the floor and then anywhere but back at him. “I should have emailed and let you know…but…well… I didn’t think it would be a good idea to come back to our house, Danny. Given that we, well… given that we’re in this situation.” Her gaze settled on her hands and she rubbed her left ring finger. No wedding band, not even a thin white line. She’d ditched the ring a long time ago, then. There was that tug on his heart again. Damn it. She looked back at him. “I will come round. Maybe tomorrow? There are a few things of mine I need to get. If that’s okay with you? When would be a good time?”
For her to close that door on their relationship forever? Never. But things had irrevocably changed, he knew. “Any time—you still have your key? Just let yourself in.
It’s your place too, you have a right to come and go as you please. I’m on an early shift, so won’t be home until after four.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“How long are you staying for?”
This time when she wrapped her arms round her chest, he wasn’t sure if it was an unconscious barrier or a comfort hug. Either way she was telling him to keep his distance. “Two weeks. I have a job starting in the New Year in Brisbane.”
“This hemisphere? Getting closer.”
“Yeah, you take the jobs you can get these days. There’s nothing in Auckland, little out of the city. Nothing here on this tiny island. But Brisbane sounds great. Mum’s already booking flights, she’s stoked to have me only a couple of hours away. She said you’d been to see her a few times, did the lawns.” Emma’s shoulders relaxed a little and there was a small smile. “That was kind, Danny. And surprising.”
He took a step away. “You’re surprised that I can be kind?”
“No. No, don’t be silly. I didn’t mean that. Of course not, I know you can be kind.” Wearily she shook her head. “You were just so wrapped up in all that other stuff when I left, I wasn’t sure…how you’d be.”
“Two years is a long time, Emma. I’m fine.”
“Yes. Yes you are.” Her eyes grazed over his face, then down his chest. He wasn’t sure where else because he turned away, burning under her scrutiny. Damn it, when she looked at him like that all the familiar emotions washed through him. Heat. Longing. A need to hold her. Actually, a shocking need to touch her. But guilt was there too, fraying the edges, taking off the shine. Her voice brought him back, “I was wondering whether you’d moved on…? Are you seeing anyone, Danny?”
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