by Clare Lydon
Jordan’s presence made her feel wonky. Skittish. Off-kilter.
Which was ridiculous.
She wasn’t attracted to women.
Most of the time.
Abby stared at a candle sat on a side table opposite. That was probably the source of the smell. Geranium and some kind of flower if she had to guess. Maybe rose? She didn’t like it, whatever it was.
Guessing wasn’t her strong point. She was second-guessing herself all the time when it came to Jordan.
Abby hadn’t been attracted to many women since university. What had happened there had been one night. She’d experimented. She’d slept with a woman. She’d enjoyed it. Ticked it off her list. But that was that. One and done.
Since then, she’d only slept with men. Did that make her bisexual? Pansexual? Did you need a relationship with a woman to earn that label? She wasn’t sure three orgasms counted.
Jordan was the first woman who’d snagged her interest in 15 years. She was trying not to focus on that. These weren’t the thoughts a bride was meant to be having about… her staff.
Perhaps, by not thinking of Jordan like that, Abby had crossed a line.
Funny thing. She didn’t care. From the moment they’d met in that café a few weeks ago, Jordan had intrigued her. Made Abby sit up. Stirred something inside her she thought was long dead.
Jordan was simply someone on Abby’s wavelength. Someone she clicked with. That she had breasts and a vagina was incidental.
However, Abby would be lying if she said she hadn’t wondered what those breasts looked like. Or what it would be like to kiss them.
Stop it!
She sucked in such a deep breath that her rib cage felt like it was riding up her body and about to strangle her.
She let it out.
Jordan had done her job and lessened Abby’s stress on one level. But she was also proving a distraction. Together or apart. Jordan had started messaging Abby on a regular basis, and her messages always made Abby laugh. They were personal and witty. Did she do that for every bride she worked with? Abby hoped not. Somehow, it was important. Jordan had told her she was different. Not so spoilt. A normal person. Abby enjoyed Jordan’s company. They worked well together. They made a good team.
Just like her and Marcus, obviously.
Abby closed her eyes, choking again as she breathed in the aromas. She was surrounded by calming colours and satin fabrics. It wasn’t Abby’s natural habitat.
Moments later, the shop manager, Lisa, came back with Abby’s latte, along with a tray of shortbread. Did any bride this close to the wedding ever take a biscuit? Abby doubted it.
Lisa was one of those women who believed there was no such thing as too much make-up. Her eyelashes were so thick, it was a miracle she ever managed to pry them open. Abby had nothing but respect for her attention to detail.
Abby took the coffee, just as her phone lit up by her side.
It was a message from Delta.
Abby stiffened. She better not be bailing.
Abby clicked the message. Delta was sorry, but she was working from home today, and also waiting for Nora to collect some things. Nora was late. Delta couldn’t leave until she arrived. She wasn’t going to make it.
Delta was putting Nora over Abby. She wasn’t coming.
Heat rose up through her. Hadn’t they already had this discussion and Delta had sworn she’d fulfil her maid-of-honour duties? She was turning out to be more of a maid of dishonour. After the other night, Abby had thought things would change. Apparently not.
The trouble was, she wasn’t all that surprised. Delta was still hung up on her ex. Hopefully this would at least mean the end of Nora, so Delta would be present for her hen weekend. Get closure.
But that still left today. No Mum. No Delta.
At least she had Jordan.
She just had to put all those inappropriate and frankly irrelevant Jordan-type thoughts out of her head and focus on the job at hand.
Picking a wedding dress.
For her marriage to Marcus.
“Everything okay, madam?” Lisa had clocked her frowny face.
Abby gave her best fake smile. “My maid of honour can’t make today.”
“Oh dear. That is bad news. Is anyone else coming for a second opinion?”
Something dropped into the pit of Abby’s stomach. Fear? Excitement? She wasn’t sure.
Abby chewed the inside of her cheek and glanced at Lisa. “Yes, my other bridesmaid.”
Lisa gave her a relieved smile, and rubbed her hands together. “No problem, then. Between the three of us, we’ll make sure you look beautiful on your big day.”
Abby nodded, uncertainty prickling her skin.
Yes, it wasn’t just Jordan. It was Lisa, too. Much better.
Lisa could act as a buffer between them.
However, one thing Lisa couldn’t do was control Abby’s heart, which was suddenly beating so fast, she’d swear people could hear it on the street outside. Were people running up and down the pavement, wondering where the heavy bassline was coming from? In Abby’s head, it sounded like she was one of those annoying cars who pull up at traffic lights, bassline thumping, shaking the entire road.
Lisa’s face was blank. Lisa was a pro. Even if she was wondering what the hell Abby was thinking, she wasn’t going to say anything. Abby was a customer who was spending a lot of money on the most important dress of her life. Lisa was going to do everything to make Abby feel like the most important person in her shop.
Abby picked up her phone again.
That is, if Jordan turned up. She was normally early.
Oh my god, what if Jordan didn’t even turn up?
Worry goose bumps broke out across her skin.
But then, just like that, her worries were vanquished as Jordan appeared. A vision in black, her cheeks flushed, her hair not quite as styled as usual. Artfully messed up? Jordan’s hair looked like Abby imagined it might do right after sex. Tussled. Hot. Ravishing.
“Hey!” Jordan put her bag on the sofa, her sparkle filling the room. “Ready for this?”
Lisa took Jordan’s coffee order and disappeared.
Abby gulped. Then opened her mouth to speak. When no words came out, she closed it again. Okay, she hadn’t been expecting this. She blew out a small breath, her heart still kicking in her chest. She took another deep breath. Calm.
In front of her, Jordan was scouring the room, an odd look on her face. “What’s that smell?” she whispered. “It’s like some flowers farted.”
That broke the tension. Abby’s heart burst. “I think it’s that candle.” She pointed.
Jordan eyed it. “Is it okay to blow it out?” Jordan didn’t wait for permission. She blew the candle out.
What had Abby done in her life before Jordan?
“No Delta yet?”
Abby shook her head. “She’s bailed, so it’s just me, you, and Lisa.”
Jordan gave her a concerned look. “That’s a shame, but we’ll cope. I’m looking forward to it already.” She eyed Abby. “You look gorgeous today, by the way. Excited. Ready.”
Abby blushed, casting her gaze to the floor. Her excitement had nothing to do with the dress. “You look more excited than me.”
“I’m just happy today. Spotify played one of my very favourite tracks, and it’s made me feel energised.” She jigged from foot to foot. “Do you remember the song, Drops of Jupiter?”
Abby nodded. “I love that song.”
Jordan grinned wider. “Me, too. Whenever I hear it, it takes me back, you know? To when I had my first girlfriend and I was in love for the first time.” A look crossed her face as she regarded Abby. “You of all people must know that feeling. You’re just about to get married. That feeling of love when it gets so caught in your chest that you can hardly breathe. When you just want to bottle it up and save it, because you know that first flush doesn’t last forever. But it’s so precious while it does. That song sums it up for me.”
W
hen Jordan’s gaze settled back on her, Abby had to grind her teeth together to stop herself fidgeting too much.
Jordan was gay. Or at least bisexual. Queer. Whatever label she wanted to use. She was also blushing furiously all of a sudden. Which only made Abby’s mind jump to what Jordan might look like after she’d orgasmed.
She had to get a grip.
Jordan cleared her throat, rubbing her hands together.
“Are you ready to say yes to the dress?”
Abby nodded. “I’m ready.”
Abby drew the curtain across quickly, and disappeared behind it.
The clatter of the curtain track sounded like Jordan’s mind, about to fly off the rail. Jordan’s hands went to her face to rub up and down. She couldn’t do that, as it would mess up her make-up.
She dropped her hands, and shook her head.
She’d just come out to Abby. She hoped Abby was cool with it. Yes, she had a gay maid of honour, but you just never knew. Maybe her quota for gay bridesmaids stopped at one. Jordan hoped Abby realised not all lesbians were as flaky as her best friend, who was proving to be a terrible maid of honour. Of course, Jordan had seen it before. But even she was mad at Delta today. Jordan could really have done with Delta’s presence to stop her fixating on Abby’s hourglass figure.
The good news? Abby was about to get into a bridal gown. If there was anything that would cool Jordan’s feelings it was a big, fluffy white dress. She’d never found wedding dresses sexy in the least, and had no idea why anyone else did, either. White suited just about nobody. Match it with a tiara and satin shoes, and Jordan was out.
“Shit.” That was Abby’s voice from behind the cream curtain.
Jordan got up and hovered outside, flexing her toes in her shoes. “Everything okay?”
Abby poked her head out. Her shoulders were naked.
Jordan kept her gaze at eye level.
“It’s just, I’m wearing the wrong bra for one of these dresses. One of them is an off-the-shoulder number, and I forgot to bring my strapless bra.” Abby’s fingers tightened around the curtain.
Something inside Jordan clenched. She ignored it.
“You think they have one here?”
Jordan sucked on her top lip. “They might, but I’m not sure I’d want to put on a second-hand bra. You want me to get you one? I know the M&S lingerie department like the back of my hand.” There were perks to her flatmate, and the shop was just around the corner. “Nude and strapless, right?”
Abby nodded. “Would you? That would be a lifesaver. I really want to see it as it’ll be on the day.”
“That’s my job, right?” Jordan gave her a grin. “What are you? A 32D?” She felt the blush hit her cheeks almost instantaneously. Did that sound like she’d been checking out Abby’s tits? Because she hadn’t, she’d just taken a normal interest. Okay, perhaps a greater interest than the average person on the street. But that was her job.
Abby held her gaze, an emotion flitting across her face Jordan couldn’t quite pin down.
“Spot on. If you ever stop doing this job, you could always get a job as a bra consultant. Isn’t that what they call them these days? Consultant rather than fitter?”
Guessing people’s bra size was Jordan’s super-power. If this business went tits-up, she could always fall back on tits. She twisted on one foot, tapping her pockets as was her habit to make sure she had her wallet. She did.
“Back in five. Don’t go anywhere.”
Abby smiled, still clutching the curtain in front of her. “I’m naked. I’m staying put.”
Jordan didn’t reply, trying to put that image out of her brain as she jogged out of the shop.
True to her word, she was back in ten minutes with a 32D nude, strapless bra. When she drew up outside Abby’s changing room again, she hesitated. How was she meant to do this?
“Knock, knock,” she said, even though there was nothing to knock her hand on. Sometimes her Britishness exasperated her.
Abby poked her head out, gratefully accepting the bra. “You really are the best,” she said. “I don’t think Delta would have jumped to my aid like you just did. She couldn’t even make it here in the first place.”
Jordan gave a gentle shrug. “That’s why I’m here.” She sat on the biscuit-coloured sofa outside the changing rooms, trying to regulate her breathing.
Nerves jangled throughout her body.
This wasn’t like her. Jordan was calm and collected around brides. It was her job.
It didn’t work around Abby.
Jordan didn’t work as she should around Abby.
She wanted Abby to like her.
Because Jordan liked Abby.
She was attracted to Abby.
She shook her head.
She had no time to be attracted to Abby.
The curtain being drawn back interrupted her thoughts. Jordan looked up.
Her right leg started jigging up and down. A bubble of warmth swelled in her chest, then burst, dripping down her body.
Yep, she was totally in control.
But godammit, Abby looked hot.
A hot bride.
This was new and unwelcome territory.
Abby’s dress came in at the waist, and puffed out from there, with layers of frills. Jordan should not be finding this attractive. But it had nothing to do with the dress, did it?
Jordan cleared her throat and jumped to her feet.
When her gaze connected with Abby’s, she saw doubt. It was her job to fix that.
She swatted aside her inappropriate feelings, and flipped into professional mode.
“You’re not looking sure about this one.” Not a gamble to say, as Abby’s face was currently twisted into a frown. “What don’t you like?”
Abby stared at Jordan, then stepped back in front of her changing room mirror. “It’s just a bit… busy? I mean, I still like it, but something is off.” She ran her hands up and down her front.
Jordan tried not to follow them.
Abby’s hands settled on her flat stomach as she turned one way, then the other, looking at the dress from all angles in the 360-degree mirrors set up in the spacious changing rooms.
“If you’re not feeling it, try on the other one. You had two choices, right?”
Abby nodded. “Marcus told me to buy them both and hang the expense. But now I’m worried. What if I don’t like either of them? What then?”
Jordan walked over and stood next to her, trying not to breathe her in, and failing. Abby was quickly turning into one of her most favourite smells in the world.
“You chose these two out of many options. You’ll love one of them, trust me. Try the other one, but if that doesn’t do it, I think this one looks amazing on you.” For once in her professional life, Jordan wasn’t lying.
Abby turned, her gaze settling on Jordan. “You do?”
“I do. You look incredible.”
Abby blushed. “Thanks.” She waited until Jordan stepped back, then pulled the curtain.
Jordan sat back down, recovering her poise, hoping she’d been as professional as possible. A few minutes later, her right leg started jigging up and down again.
“Jordan?” Abby pulled the curtain back on dress number two.
“Yes?” But the words stuck in her throat when she saw Abby. Because if dress number one had been a solid choice, dress number two was a knock-out. Fitted, with minimal beading on the front, and exquisite lace scattered across it. This dress had Hollywood glamour stamped through it. It helped that it had a Hollywood-style bride inside it, too.
Abby raised her arm, showing off her toned bicep. Was that from all the golf? Jordan made a mental note to do some extra press-ups this week.
“I’m having trouble getting the zip done all the way up. Could you give me a hand?”
Jordan walked up behind her, trying to ignore her racing heartbeat. Despite everything, her hands were steady as she grasped the zip on Abby’s dress and tugged it upwards. The dress fitted perfectl
y. As Jordan finished, her hand grazed Abby’s bare back.
Jordan stilled. She flicked her eyes upwards, and caught Abby’s gaze in the mirror. Had she gasped slightly when Jordan touched her?
Whether she had or not, Jordan was still standing motionless, expression trained on Abby. The moment sat between them, pulsing.
Abby was giving her a weird look.
It was one Jordan had seen before.
A mix of want, but also frustration. She’d glimpsed it before in her life. But never with a bride.
Jordan didn’t look away for a few more moments, trying to work it out.
She must be mistaken.
Abby was getting married.
To a man.
She was simply getting carried away.
Eventually, Jordan moved her hands and stepped back, giving Abby a wide smile, hoping it smothered all the feelings rampaging around her body.
She shook her head. There was nothing there. It was all in her head. Jordan had to sort her head out and do her job.
“Marcus is going to go berserk when he sees you in this.” The words came out of her mouth sounding sure, measured. Professional Jordan was back. Besides, she knew it was true, because it was exactly what had gone through her head when Abby had stepped out in her dress. Now, seeing her close-up, looking into her brown eyes, being near enough to reach out and trace Abby’s smile with the tips of her fingers… Well, she could only imagine how Marcus would feel.
Because Abby was marrying Marcus, not Jordan.
Abby cleared her throat, giving Jordan an unsteady grin. She walked out into the changing area, twirling once, twice, then back again. In this dress, she twirled with confidence. Jordan already knew this was the one.
“It looks pretty good, doesn’t it? I’m not quick to give myself compliments, but this dress…” she trailed off. “It makes me think of long, hot summers, of being barefoot on the beach.” She glanced up at Jordan, but then quickly away. “It makes me happy.”
Jordan nodded. She could see that. “Just like Marcus will,” she replied.
At her words, Abby stilled and glanced up at her. Something in her eyes made Jordan shudder.
Abby nodded. “Yes, just like that.”
