Maybe a good argument was what made friendships better, lasting, deeper. Only time was going to tell. She walked him to the door. ‘I’ll think about the running club.’
He nodded. ‘Good, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Oh, and don’t go attacking anyone with flowers, okay?’
‘Okay. Even though it clearly runs in the family.’
‘I’ll keep my distance then.’ He looked at her and she at him, and she could see so many emotions flicking through his eyes. Something he wanted, something he needed. Something hungry and scary and also exciting in equal measure. He turned and tugged the door open, taking a step towards it.
But then he stopped, his breath quickening as he faced her, confusion in his eyes. Troubled. Struggling to find words. ‘No, actually, I won’t. You want to know things about me? About what I think? How I feel?’
The way he was looking at her, she wasn’t sure she did want to know. But she wanted him to stay. Yes. She wanted to know everything about him. How he felt in her arms, how he kissed. How he made love. How he felt about her—about this. ‘I—’
‘You want me to say it out loud? Do you?’ He didn’t wait for her to speak. ‘How about how freaked I was when I saw you on the floor in that house?’
‘Well, you weren’t exactly expecting me to be there.’
‘It wasn’t just shock.’ His hand dropped from the door handle and he took a step closer to her. Closer still. He filled the space in front of her. All she could see was the ardent look on his face, the way he was trying to stop the words. The intense gaze in his eyes. The broad chest of a man more used to exercise than sleep. She could smell his scent of clean and citrus, and she moved closer to it. ‘There was a lot more going on.’
The awkward irritation of before melted into something intense. The whole room felt alive with it. Her heart started to hammer. Her mouth was wet and dry, and she could barely force words out. All her senses were heightened to his smell, his voice, the heat shimmering off him. ‘What did you feel?’
His eyes glittered. ‘That I’m in deep trouble.’
Heat pooled in her belly and spread fast through her whole body. ‘What kind of trouble?’
‘Big, big trouble. The biggest. There’s something about you, Jenna….’ His thumb ran over her bottom lip and his gaze locked on to hers. ‘When we were sitting on that wall, I couldn’t think straight. I should have been making sure you were okay, or taking you home, or going back to work. I should have been the man. Looking after you, doing a ton of other things, but all I could think of was how much I wanted to…’
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Didn’t want to imagine—no, she imagined a whole lot. Wanted to live it too. ‘Wanted to what?’
‘To do this.’ His fingers cupped her face and drew her towards him. His head tilted and his mouth slid over hers with gentle pressure.
Her breath stopped in her lungs as her body began to tingle, then tremble.
But he drew slowly back, a question in his eyes. Is this okay?
She couldn’t find any words. Despite everything she knew, or thought she knew, this man… this amazing, beautiful, complicated man did want to kiss her.
It had been so long, too long. What if she did the wrong thing? What if she messed up or he didn’t like the way she responded? How do you kiss?
Geez, you’re twenty-bloody-six. Get a grip.
Instinct took over and she tugged him back to her, opening her mouth and tasting him—tasting the wine and something that was pure male, pure Nick.
She wound her hands around his neck and pressed herself against him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth making her knees almost buckle.
How do you kiss?
Like this and this and this and this and…
Her eyes fluttered open, and over his shoulder she could see the dark night sky through the open doorway. A smattering of stars, the glow of a streetlight. The noise of the road filtered through, and she blocked it out. Blocked all reality, all good sense, all reasoning. Because this was her one chance. They both knew it would never, could never, happen again.
She groaned against him as his hands ran along her neck, to her shoulders, caressing her, stroking her, and for one beautiful moment, she felt as light as those stars and blazing as hot. Hotter.
But suddenly, too soon, he pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers. ‘God, Jen, I’m sorry.’
‘No, don’t be sorry, Nick. Please, bloody well don’t be.’ She was still shaking, every part of her off balance because of him, because of that kiss. She held on to his shoulders to stabilise herself. Kissing was one thing, collapsing certainly wouldn’t look good. ‘That was amazing.’
‘And really dumb. I’m the last thing you need.’ Stepping back, he put distance between them, it might as well have been light years. He had no idea what she needed. Right now, it was a lot more kissing.
She could put off the regrets and the what ifs until the cold light of day. ‘No.’
‘Yes, Jenna.’ He shook his head, fists by his sides, pumping. ‘I told you before that I could choose what I felt. So that’s what I’m doing now. I’m going to choose to not have these feelings for you. And, I’m choosing to walk away too. I’m no good for you.’
Don’t go. But the words died in her throat along with stay.
Because she could have told him what was good for her. Kissing someone like him. Wild animal sex. Being treated as a woman rather than a mother, a daughter, a widow. Being held into the night. Waking up to a man by her side. Laughing. Telling him her darkest and wildest secrets.
She could have asked him to stay too. God, she wanted to. She wanted so much for him to kiss her again, to not stop kissing her.
But he was right. This was wonderful, absolutely freaking magic, but breaking every promise she’d made for herself, and for Evie. ‘Yes. You need to go.’
Chapter 9
All I could think of was how much I wanted to…
Six days later and she still had his words going round and round and round in her brain. He’d wanted to kiss her.
Hell.
Heaven.
But the excruciating confusion was purgatory, even now as she sat down on one of the rose-gold high-backed chairs in Mrs Singh’s front room. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to be with him, reliving that kiss.
Even though that was the dumbest thing in the world to do. They’d pushed through the awkwardness and the tension and scratched the itch, and now she was left wanting more and no doubt losing a friend in the process.
Faith was taking books out of a large plastic box by her side and putting them into wobbly piles on the floor. ‘So, Jen, how far have you got with the secret squirrel wedding?’
‘Shhhh,’ Jenna told her as their eyes simultaneously darted to the front door. It was Book Group night, and Chloe had texted to say she’d been held up at the corporate launch but was on her way.
Keeping everything secret—Nick popping round last Thursday, the kiss, the wedding—was becoming increasingly stressful, mainly because wherever Jenna was, Chloe was bound to be also. ‘Things aren’t going well, to be honest. I can’t get much opportunity to arrange anything during office hours, and everything’s closed by the time I get home and Evie sorted and in bed.’ And then she was far too busy welcoming unexpected guests bearing a multitude of takeaways. ‘No one wants to perform a ceremony for people who don’t know they’re getting married. I have a cake organised, though, and had a word with Jacques at Vaughn’s restaurant to make sure they give Vaughn the day off on the day. I just need to keep Chloe’s diary empty and find a celebrant. Oh, and the venue.’
‘I thought you were going to go casual and have it in Holland Park?’ Kat stopped pouring out water into glasses for everyone. ‘But what if it rains? We can’t dance in the park in the rain.’
‘We can dance in the park, Kat. We can dance anywhere we want.’ Jenna lowered her voice in case Chloe came in. ‘But you’re right, it could rain. It’
s going to be London in October; it could snow, or be a heatwave. I was just keeping my fingers crossed, and it’s a free venue. Maybe I should hire somewhere? But where? Where’s cheap these days? And at very short notice?’
Nobody said anything. What she needed was someone with inside knowledge, like a wedding planner. Go figure. ‘As for food, I wondered whether you wouldn’t all mind bringing something? I can’t afford a big spread, and if we all chip in, it’ll make the day special.’
Judging by the looks on their faces, everyone felt this was a rubbish idea. But surprisingly, Bridget chirped up, ‘I can do my famous colcannon if you like?’
‘Thanks, Mum. I’m not sure potato and cabbage work for a wedding breakfast.’ And it was only famous because it was inedible, but she didn’t want to break her mum’s heart by telling her this. Jenna caught the annoyed look on her mum’s face. She needed to get her on side. ‘But your lovely fancy sandwiches would go down a treat, and you make a fabulous lemon meringue pie.’
‘I think you’re walking on thin ice, Jen.’ Faith still looked doubtful. ‘What if she refuses to marry him?’
She wasn’t going to even think about that possibility. ‘Look, Chloe has spent her life trying to organise my life. You remember she set me up on a date with Nick? And I set up her online dating profile. This is the kind of thing we Cassidy sisters do. We step in when things need doing.’
‘Wasn’t the online dating thing a complete shambles? Didn’t she meet some real no hopers?’
‘That poor man with the dog in the rucksack. She was so rude to him and never apologised, just left him in the cafe high and dry.’ Bridget shook her head and tutted. ‘She’s lucky Vaughn’s taken her on at all. She should be thrilled to marry him.’
‘I think you’ll find he’s very lucky to have her. They’re perfect together.’ Jenna smothered a smile. Yes, the online dating had been an utter disaster, but at least now they could forget all that and focus on better things. ‘The last wedding where she was the bride, she turned complete Bridezilla and became this… thing. This control freak wild thing. Then she had the embarrassment of being jilted and having to stand there and explain it all to friends and family. So, if I do this for her, she’ll understand. She’ll have none of the stress of organising her own wedding. She’ll have nothing to prove, no one to face, no anxiety. She’ll marry him. And if she does refuse, then all I’ll have wasted is my hard-earned cash, and we’ll still get to eat yummy food.’
‘I’m still not convinced.’ Kat shook her head.
Thanks a bunch. ‘Look, plenty of brides have planned surprise weddings for grooms and the other way round. It’s not on the outside of normal; it’s just on the spectrum.’
Bridget pointed at Jenna, nodding. ‘I think you’re on to something, our Jenna. I really do. Sometimes that big girl of mine needs a boot up the—’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ Jenna interjected. This was the first inclination of support she’d received about the wedding, and it was coming from a surprising source. ‘I think we all know what you mean.’
‘You can use the yoga studio if you like.’ Saskia stretched out her long, slender legs and reached her hands to the ceiling. Upward facing stretchy thing. Yoga had never been Jenna’s exercise of choice. To be honest, nothing had. ‘We don’t have any classes on Saturday afternoons. Only, no stilettos on my floor.’
Two positives in less than a minute. Things were looking up. ‘Oh, thank you! Yes, that’s amazing. And I promise no heels. Maybe we could convince Chloe we’re having a private lesson or something, to get her there? Should we do that? Work on some kind of ruse about a yoga class?’
‘Okay. But would she want to get married in Lycra?’ Kat shivered and put on a posh accent. ‘The bride wore active wear…’
‘Good point. No one would want to get married in Lycra. I’ll think of something.’
Jenna shuddered. She kept saying that. She’d think of the answers to all these pertinent questions. A celebrant. Food. Transport. A photographer. Unfortunately, all she was thinking about was how good Nick had tasted and how good it had felt to be in his arms. And then how empty she’d felt when he’d left. She had no answers for any of that. ‘Right, one of us can drop off some clothes earlier in the day, or the night before. All you’ll have to do is help with decorations.’
‘And food?’
‘Yes. I know it’s a big ask, but she deserves it to be right, doesn’t she?’
Saskia sat up straight in her chair. ‘We have silk scarves as curtains and buddhas and candles and chimes. I love it. You could match decorations with them. And I could borrow some chairs and a big table from the cafe downstairs if you like?’
‘Perfect.’ Jenna mentally checked those items off her list. ‘Mum, could you make some ribbons for the chair backs? What colour are the scarves? We could blend in with them. Oh, this is exciting.’
If only everyone else looked as enthused as she felt.
Mrs Singh bustled in, looking uncharacteristically flustered, bearing a tray of pakoras and a jug of rum-laced punch, which she put on the coffee table in front of them. ‘Sorry I’m running late. I had to wait for someone to change the locks. We had a breakin yesterday at the shop.’
‘Oh? Oh my God, how scary. Is everything okay? Did you have anything stolen?’
Mrs Singh shook her head. ‘No, we have an alarm and it must have scared them— oh, hello, Chloe. Come in, sit down.’
‘Hey, everyone, sorry I’m late.’ Chloe climbed over the teetering piles of books no one had read and squeezed next to Saskia on the sofa. ‘What did I miss? Please don’t tell me you’re talking about books? I haven’t read anything.’
‘No one has, don’t worry. Anjini’s had a breakin at the shop. Actually, Nick said there’s been a spate of them targeting this area recently. We need to double-check those locks. I’m sorry, Anjini, I should have told you.’
‘Nick?’ Chloe said in a stage whisper. ‘Ooooh. When did you see him?’
Seeing as Jenna had learnt a lot from Nick about dodging, she dodged this spotlight. ‘How scary, Mrs Singh. It makes you feel so unsafe, doesn’t it?’
Bridget helped her old friend bring through more nibbles. This time some gulab jaman and other bright-coloured Indian sweets cut into squares. ‘Anjini takes these things seriously. You need to get an alarm, girls, or you’ll lose all your wares. I’ll be betting it’s the boys from the shop opening. Dodgy pair.’
Chloe spoke through a mouth of warm pakora. ‘These are so yummy. No. No, pretty sure Tyler was working at the restaurant last night.’
All eyes turned to Chloe as Bridget asked, ‘Working? At Vaughn’s place?’
Chloe looked a little taken aback at the attention and surprised reaction. ‘Yes, he does the washing up.’
‘He stole Jenna’s things and he’s rewarded with a job.’ Their mother huffed. ‘That doesn’t make any sense to me.’
‘It’s nothing major, Mum. It’s not like he’s running the place or in charge of cash. He’s up to his elbows in dishwasher suds. Vaughn says he’s a good worker and, even though he hasn’t got a permanent address, he turns up for work every day neat and clean. Vaughn said he could sleep in the office, but I had to put my foot down. It’s busy enough in there without turning it into someone’s bedroom too.’
‘It was good of Vaughn to give him a job.’
Chloe nodded. ‘It was Nick’s idea, actually. Apparently he suggested it to Vaughn at football on Sunday.’
What? So they did talk about other things at football on Sundays, just not what Jenna wanted them to talk about. Typical. Men. ‘Hmmph.’
‘Jenna?’
Jenna glared at her sister. Shut up.
‘Jenna? Is there something you’re trying to tell us?’ This time it was an I know what you got up to kind of grin.
Thankfully their mother didn’t seem to notice. ‘Maybe it’s the other one then. You know, the one that got away, with that stripy hat. That man of yours should have done a bit more of a tho
rough search of the area at the shop opening and found him.’
Jenna’s whole body bristled. ‘One, he wasn’t on duty as it was, so he did a kindness to us all by hefting Tyler away when he did. Two, they have been investigating, actually. And three….’ She could feel her voice rising but couldn’t stop it. Because one, two and bloody three, she felt very protective of him. He’d had a hard time and didn’t need slandering by her mother. ‘Three, he’s not my man.’
‘He was seen leaving your house in the dark on Thursday night. That makes him your… something.’ Mrs Singh had that irrepressible look in her eyes. She knew everything. She certainly could see right through Jenna.
Anjini passed round a plate of delicious smelling samosas. Three hundred calories of potato and peas and spices, all wrapped up in a crispy pastry. Jenna refused, as she had all the other delicious food, because she was going to prove to herself how much self-control she had—at least where food was concerned, if not her wayward hormones and random kissing of handsome men in her hallway. A shudder of embarrassment and lust shivered through her at the memory. ‘Ah, yes, well—’
‘Jenna? Really?’ Bridget was frowning and suddenly animated. ‘He was at our house on Thursday? Did you sneak him in when I was at my ghost group? Is that where we’re at now? Hiding things—men—from your mother? Is he going to be throwing stones at your window and climbing up the drain pipe to get to your bedroom? Because he’d better not. Copper guttering’s expensive, and I’m just after getting some replaced.’
‘Mum! I’m way too old and tired for those kinds of shenanigans. Of course I didn’t sneak him in. He came to the front door and knocked like any sensible person. He brought round a flyer about a running club. I think we should all sign up.’ If she kept on talking, she could swiftly move the conversation on from Nick. ‘It’s a great idea. There’s a five-kilometre fun run in a few weeks, and we want to raise cash for Evie’s nursery. Why don’t we do it, set a goal?’
Something About You (Something Borrowed Series Book 2) Page 10
