by Clare Lydon
Jordan tried so hard not to stare at Abby’s exposed neck. At the way the moonlight danced on her skin. But she failed. Desire lodged itself in her throat like a fishbone. She swallowed hard.
Abby stared at her, then shook her head. “But back to you. Much more fun.” Her smile lit up the night. “Are you gay, bi, or something else?”
That was direct. “Card-carrying gay.”
“What does the card say?”
Jordan smiled. “Come back in October when I’m done with weddings, then we can talk.”
Had she really just said that out loud? Like she was some kind of lothario? She couldn’t trust herself to say the right thing anymore.
Abby laughed. But was there hesitation in her tone, too? “I’m intrigued you haven’t had a relationship for so long.” Her face turned pensive. “Brings a whole new meaning to the term ‘married to your job’.”
“There’s a certain irony.” Jordan’s heart was hammering in her chest. What she would give to wind the clock back 30 seconds.
“Doesn’t it make a difference that the women you’re getting close to are getting married?”
She wasn’t making this easy, was she? “Of course. But the job involves long hours and lots of weekends. Plus, I have to be on-call 24/7. It doesn’t leave much time for me. Or anybody else involved with me.”
Abby nodded, processing that. “I apologise.”
Jordan gave her a rueful smile. “Don’t. Marcus is paying me well.”
Abby nodded slowly. “But do you miss having someone?” Her eyes were back on Jordan.
Was there a right answer here? “Sometimes. It would be nice to have someone to crawl into bed with at night, even if I got home at 2am.” Jordan imagined crawling into bed with Abby. She blinked. “You’re about to get that with Marcus, which you must be looking forward to.”
Abby turned her head skyward and didn’t reply right away. “Sometimes I worry we won’t like it, and perhaps we should have tried it out first. Most couples do.”
Jordan knew they lived at separate addresses, which was unusual. “But there’s some romance to it, right?”
Abby took a deep breath. “But is it weird? Have we not wanted to move in together for a reason?” She paused, glancing at Jordan, then shook her head. “You know what, ignore me. It’s just last-minute nerves. Marcus is wonderful, and I’m a lucky woman to have found him. He’s going to make a great husband and father.”
Jordan didn’t let her gaze linger on Abby. She’d seen these freak-outs before, and she knew the people responsible needed space. That’s what she’d give Abby.
A good few moments slid by before she spoke again. “Last-minute nerves are par for the course. It’ll all work out in the end.”
Abby nodded, but uncertainty flooded her system so hard, she was surprised she wasn’t short-circuiting.
She’d had too much to drink, hadn’t she? Why else was she blurting out her doubts to a stranger?
Only, Jordan wasn’t a stranger anymore. She was almost a friend. A woman who’d walked into Abby’s life and pierced her resolve where it was most vulnerable. Making Abby question not only her relationship with Marcus, but also her sexuality.
This wasn’t in the weekend script. She was on her hen do, for goodness sake. This wasn’t the time to be having such huge doubts. This was a time to focus on her future and on Marcus. Not on feelings that had crept up on her, and were now unsettling her completely.
“I slept with a woman once.” Abby closed her eyes. Really? After the promise she just made to herself, then that comes out of her mouth? Had any other bride ever told Jordan this? For some weird reason, Abby hoped she was the first.
Jordan licked her lips before replying. “I slept with a man once, too. I guess we’re even.”
Which made Abby smile. “You haven’t done since?”
Jordan shook her head. “Once was enough. Just to see what all the fuss was about.” She paused. “What about you?”
Abby nodded. “Same. At university. I went to a gay club with Delta, and I met a woman. We got talking. And I thought, why not? She was cute, and you only live once. There might have been some tequila involved, too.”
A grin. “Ah, tequila. Fuelling life’s key moments for decades.”
“You could say that.” Abby still recalled the absolute terror mixed with total elation of waking up the next morning, knowing she’d done something forbidden. Off limits. She’d never had that feeling with Marcus. It had scared her at the time. Now she longed to feel it once more. To be near to daring again.
To cross her carefully placed lines.
Step close to an electric current.
Once she said ‘I do’, everything was off limits.
Abby stared at Jordan. The crackle of possibility was there.
“Was tequila involved when you got together with Marcus?”
Abby shook her head. “Marcus doesn’t like it. He says it usually ends in bad decisions being made. He’s probably right.”
Jordan’s stare was intense, her eyes brooding in the moonlight. “What do you think?”
Abby moved her mouth left to right, then shrugged. Like the next sentence meant nothing. “I think that sometimes, you have to leave things to chance. Chance can lead you down a different path than you intended, but sometimes, it can be a fun one. A right one. I guess I’m worried that once I get married, those paths might be closed off to me.”
What the hell was she saying? Abby strode across to the other side of the terrace, then stopped and clutched the glass wall again. Putting some distance between her and Jordan was the right thing to do. She was too frightened to truly think about what all her thoughts meant. Why, every time she was on her own with Jordan, did her carefully planned life threaten to spin out of control?
The distance didn’t last long. Within seconds, Jordan drew up alongside her, and all the desire Abby had been keeping so carefully under wraps began to seep out, trickling down her body like a leaky tap.
Godammit, she was attracted to Jordan. Abby really didn’t need this. Not when her life was just about to be sorted.
But all those rational thoughts fled from her head when Jordan put a hand on the top of her arm.
Abby stopped breathing as all the blood in her body rushed south, to her groin.
What the hell did Jordan do to her? She made her forget who she was. But also, Jordan made her dare to imagine what she could be.
“All these thoughts are perfectly normal. Getting married is a big deal. Making all these promises to one person. But Marcus loves you.”
“I know,” Abby said. “But what if I’m not meant to be with Marcus? What if I’m meant to be with someone completely different? Maybe even a woman?”
Jordan’s hand rubbed up and down her arm, sending an arrow of lust straight to Abby’s clit.
Abby closed her eyes for a second. Then she blew out a long breath, before pulling away from Jordan, to untangle them physically.
It was necessary, even though it had only been Jordan’s fingers and her arm that had been touching.
That had been enough.
“You’re going to be fine. Try to relax and enjoy your hen weekend. And my advice? Steer clear of tequila.”
Jordan’s accompanying smile cut right to Abby’s core. Jordan left her exposed.
She shook her head, before folding her arms over her chest. “You’re good at this, you know.” There was one thing she still wanted to know. It was important, even though the reason was still foggy in her mind. “Have you had many brides confess they’ve slept with a woman?”
Jordan shook her head. “You’re the first. I’m sure there have been others, because the law of averages states there must have been.” She paused, fixing Abby with her gorgeous eyes once again. “But you’re the first one to tell me.”
A warmth rose up through Abby. She was the first.
Her gaze fell to Jordan’s round, pink lips. And for the first time Abby allowed herself to imagine leaning forward a
nd kissing them.
She’d forgotten what the last woman she’d kissed tasted like. It didn’t matter anymore.
But she’d love to know how Jordan tasted. How she felt. Abby closed her eyes, thoughts and visions swirling against her eyelids.
Stop.
What was she thinking? Jordan was her professional bridesmaid. She was getting married next week.
She opened her eyes. Jordan was right. She only got one hen weekend, and if she wanted to enjoy it fully, she had to throw herself into it.
And it didn’t include kissing Jordan.
“Abby?” She hadn’t heard footsteps. She turned, and the light snapped on above the terrace making her squint.
It was her mum, in a silky T-shirt and shorts.
“What are you still doing up? We all went to bed a while ago.”
Abby ignored the quake of her heart. She’d done nothing wrong, and yet it felt like her mum had just found her with her hands down Jordan’s pants.
That thought caused a small earthquake at her centre.
She gave her mum a tight smile as she approached. “We were coming to bed.” Abby took her by the arm and guided her towards the door.
She was ignoring the question in her mum’s doubting stare. Ignoring the way her mum was glancing back towards Jordan.
None of it was real.
Her wedding was real.
From now on, that was all Abby was going to concentrate on.
Chapter 15
Abby woke the following morning drenched in sweat.
She’d had a sex dream about Jordan.
As she opened her eyelids, heart pounding in her chest, she knew she had to get this under control. Had to work out how to enjoy her hen weekend as any bride should. She had to focus on her friends and family celebrating her upcoming wedding, and not solely on her fake bridesmaid. Her sexy as hell, fake bridesmaid.
Piece of cake, right?
She slipped a finger into her pants and closed her eyes as it connected with her wetness. She cast her mind back to her dream.
Jordan had been dressed in a skimpy red bikini that left little to the imagination. Her long, lean body reclined on a lounger as she baked in the sun. Abby had approached, climbed on top of her and slid her fingers into Jordan’s bikini bottoms, a little like she was doing to herself right now. Jordan had been wet like her, too.
No words had been said.
Jordan had simply spread her legs a little more, making room for Abby to slide into her.
Stop!
Abby opened her eyes, withdrew her fingers, and wiped them on her thigh. She let out a strangled breath, then jumped up, and walked over to her window to open the blinds. It was a glorious day in Cannes. But as she stood there, she couldn’t shake the image of Jordan in her red bikini. It had been so real. Jordan’s skin had been so real. The feel of her. She’d smelled like sunshine.
Abby closed her eyes as her heartbeat slowed in her chest. Her clit twitched, but she ignored it.
She had to snap back into being a normal bride.
Whatever that was.
Today was the yacht trip. A boat ride out into the ocean with music, fun, and a free bar. She should take it easy on the free bar, she knew that already. Thankfully, her head was clear for today, as she hadn’t gone completely overboard last night. Enough to blurt out some stupid things to Jordan, however.
She shook her head as she remembered telling Jordan about sleeping with a woman. Telling her that perhaps she was meant to be with a woman. Fucking hell.
She had to get her head in the right frame of mind for today. Had to focus on why she was here and what she should do. She glanced down to the pool area, right below the terrace. She couldn’t hear anybody else. Abby checked her watch. 7.15am.
Would an early morning swim help to work off some of her sexual tension and excess energy? It had to be better than staying in her room and fretting.
She went to her suitcase and got out her black swimsuit. The one that wasn’t built to get attention. She’d save her more sexy attire for the yacht, when she had an audience.
Abby walked into the kitchen, its shiny white floor showing some long, dark hair. That’s what happened when you had a gaggle of women in a house. She went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, drinking some as she did every morning. She loved this time, when the day was still there to be written. Later on, there were sure to be dramas about hair, make-up, clothing, and itinerary. But for now, the day was unsullied.
She left her bottle of water on the side, then strolled through the sunroom, and drew back the large glass doors. She stepped out onto the ground-floor terrace. The view was magnificent. Terraces and pools stepped down the hill below the villa to the sea. Dazed sunlight caught the water’s surface.
“Good morning, Cannes.” She couldn’t help the grin that split her face as she stretched her arms high up above her head, her muscles waking up one by one. For a perfect moment, she forgot all her doubts. Now, it was just Abby, the sunshine, and the view.
She threw her head back, and shook her dark hair out behind her. She walked over to the pool, the concrete warm under her feet. It was what she always loved about being outside the UK. Heat made her happy. The pool’s surface rippled as she dipped her toe, then drew back. It was colder than she’d thought. But she should just dive in, take the plunge.
A little like she should do with this weekend. Decide to be the bride she wanted to be. Self-assured.
She nodded. That’s just what she was going to do. Starting right this second, by jumping in the pool. Project-Manager Abby was coming out. Only, for this weekend, the project was her.
The shock of the cold water woke her system, and it was all she could do to hold in her scream. She just about managed it. As her head broke the surface she flailed a little. But then, after a few deep breaths, she spread her body long and began to swim. She’d made the right call. The water was cleansing, and as she began to pump her muscles, her worries started to melt, too.
Abby swam ten lengths, loving the dimmed morning sun on her face. She reached out and clutched the edge of the pool, and stroked the baby-blue tiles.
When she and Marcus were married, would they come back here? Marcus had said the family who’d lent them the villa were close friends. The thought of returning regularly filled her with calm and happiness. They could do couples yoga, like he’d been trying to get her to do. She glanced up at the cloudless sky.
She and Marcus were going to be exactly the same. Cloudless.
Someone clearing their throat nearby made her look. She squinted.
Then she did a double-take.
Because there at the side of the pool, wearing a red bikini that left little to the imagination, was Jordan. Just as she had been in her dream.
So much for working it out of her system.
Now, instead of that, her dreams were coming true. In the worst and best possible way.
“Nice stroke work.” Jordan walked around the pool to where Abby was still clutching the wall, frozen in time.
Stroke work? Seriously? Jordan had no idea. “Thanks. I didn’t realise I had an audience.”
“Great minds think alike. I thought I’d get down here before there was too much of an audience and wake myself up. How is it?” She dipped a toe in the water, then recoiled. She hunched her shoulders and made a face. “Yikes. Colder than I thought.”
Abby took a deep breath and regained her composure. She could totally do this. “It is at first, but it’s gorgeous when you get in. Just go for it. It certainly woke me up.”
Jordan raised an eyebrow that told Abby she didn’t believe her.
Abby tried not to stare at Jordan’s flat, tanned stomach. Exactly as it had been in her dream.
Nope.
The bride-to-be should definitely not be doing that.
Jordan climbed in via the metal step ladder on the side of the pool, gave a little scream as she submerged herself, then swam over to Abby. When she drew level with her, she
ducked her head under water, then came back up, sweeping her blond hair off her face. She wiped the water out of her eyes, before giving Abby a wide smile.
Scrap what she’d just thought. Maybe she couldn’t do this. If anything, seeing Jordan up close and all wet was making things worse.
Abby tensed, then tried to think of horrible things. Things that were not a semi-naked Jordan.
Jellied eels. Bone marrow on toast. Parsley. Martin Keown.
It didn’t work.
Her eyes could still see Jordan’s gorgeous face in front of her, and her whole body was processing that with some joy.
“How did you sleep?”
“Really well.” She was blushing, she could feel it.
Jordan didn’t need to know about her dreams.
But Abby knew.
Her body knew.
When she’d woken up, she’d been inside Jordan.
Desire slid down her, landing right in her core.
“Me too, I slept like a log. Didn’t wake up until I heard you out here.” She paused. “Ready for today’s yacht trip?”
Abby nodded. “Totally. Yesterday was a gentle introduction to my hen weekend. I feel like today, it’s going to explode into life.”
Jordan flashed her a killer smile.
She really wasn’t helping. Abby was still hanging onto the side of the pool. Also hanging onto her sanity for dear life.
Jordan studied her like she was a work of art.
“I just wanted to say, too, that whatever you tell me this weekend stays with me. Total confidence. Just in case you were feeling a little exposed after our chat last night.”
“I can’t even blame it on tequila.” Abby paused. “The only other person who knows I slept with a woman is Delta, and I’d like it to stay that way. If Marcus’s cousins found out, it might get back to him. Or worse, to Marjorie. She already has a low enough opinion of me as it is.”
Jordan gave her a rueful smile. “If sleeping with a woman is the worst thing you can do, Marjorie definitely needs to broaden her horizons. But of course, your secret’s safe with me. I told you that from day one. I tell all my brides that.”
