Before You Say I Do

by Clare Lydon

  “Cheating?” Jordan looked confused as she raised a finger to her chest. “On me?”

  Abby gulped. Her next move was going to be critical, wasn’t it? Did she lie, or did she tell the truth?

  Sirens blared in Abby’s head. She ignored them.

  Yes, she was teetering on the edge, but she was certain of one thing. For the past few months while organising this wedding, she’d been sleep-walking to the aisle.

  Until she’d met Jordan. Jordan had woken her up in so many ways.

  She nodded. “I know that makes no sense,” she added. “I’m engaged to Marcus and I’m here on my hen weekend, but this is my reality.” Abby shook her head, covering her forehead with her left palm. She fixed her gaze on Jordan.

  Shocked, beautiful Jordan.

  “I have feelings for you, Jordan. I can’t ignore them. Even though I’m engaged to Marcus, who’s wonderful.” She moved her hand, swirling it in the air between them. “This right here is torture. Because here we are, semi-naked and alone. My ankle isn’t even that painful. I just saw that I could use it to be alone with you. When I was being forced to kiss that poor guy, all I could think was, ‘I wish this was Jordan’.” Abby covered her entire face with her hands, bringing both her feet in front of her.

  She’d really blown it now, hadn’t she? She should have kept her big mouth shut. Stayed at the club. Drank more vodka.

  As if sensing the magnitude of the moment, the hot tub chose this moment to restart its bubbles.

  Jordan had been listening, rapt, leaning in. Now she jerked backwards, as the jets sprang to life and the water began to bubble all around them.

  Abby grabbed her wine and swigged, just to give her hands something to do.

  She eyed Jordan warily. “Say something, please. Even if it’s that I’m a stupid bride-to-be and that this happens on every job you do. Just something to stop my thoughts going around and around in my head. Because you don’t know the chaos that resides up here.” She tapped her skull as she spoke.

  Jordan sucked in a deep breath, then edged back towards Abby.

  Then she took Abby’s hand in hers.

  That one action stilled Abby under the bubbles. Below the surface, she was frozen.

  “Believe me when I say, this is the first time this has happened. You are the first bride to tell me she wants to kiss me.” Jordan’s gaze dropped to Abby’s lips. “You’re also the first bride-to-be I’ve wanted to kiss. But I’ve been pushing that away because I have a job to do. And no part of that job description involves kissing you.”

  Arrows of lust landed all over Abby’s body, along with a hallelujah chorus in her brain. However, that was quickly followed by a rolling sensation of what-the-fuck as the reality set in.

  Abby wanted to kiss Jordan.

  Jordan wanted to kiss Abby.

  Did that mean they were going to?

  “You want to kiss me too?”

  Jordan nodded. “I do. Last night. Today in the sea. When you were trying on your wedding dress.” She tilted her head towards the sky. “But you know we can’t act on it, right?”

  If Abby’s body could have deflated right there and then, it would have. “I know.”

  But it’s so unfair! That’s what she wanted to scream. But she didn’t.

  Jordan scooted a bit closer, and brought Abby’s hand to her mouth. She kissed it, then placed it back in her lap.

  “Whatever attraction there is here has to stay just that. An attraction.”

  Abby nodded, dumbstruck by Jordan kissing her hand. Her skin tingled. “Of course.” She’d never been so insincere in her life.

  “I’m employed by your fiancé and by you. My job is to get you to the altar in one piece. Happy. Content.”

  “You’ve already screwed up on that one just by being here.”

  Now it was Jordan’s turn to shake her head.

  The bubbles stopped again.

  The water calmed.

  The silence this time was even louder.

  “We can’t do this,” Jordan began, but she edged a little closer to Abby.

  “I know.” Abby slid along the seat until she was right beside Jordan.

  “You’re getting married. To somebody else.”

  Abby nodded ever so slowly. Like she was on shutter-speed in some old movie.

  “I know.” She put a hand up to Jordan’s face as their legs touched. “But why is it then, that ever since we met, when I go to bed and when I wake up, all I think about is you? I dream about you, Jordan. I did last night.”

  She had no idea where the courage had come from. Or how she was going to store it up in her future, because she was going to need it if she went through with this.

  “Abby,” Jordan began.

  Her tone said one thing. Her hungry eyes said quite something else.

  “Don’t say anything else.” Abby’s words came out as a whisper as she leaned forward. She was about to make her dreams a reality. She was about to kiss Jordan, the woman who’d made her finally wake up.

  “Abby! Jordan!”

  Or maybe she wasn’t.

  Because that voice was her mum.

  Which meant their party was about to be crashed.

  Abby jerked with such ferocity that she went forward before moving backwards.

  The crack as her head collided with Jordan’s reverberated around her brain. Abby clutched her head, dazed in more ways than one.

  “Argh, fuck!” Jordan said.

  When Abby peered through her hands, Jordan had moved backwards on the hot tub seat, clutching her head. Abby moved, too, staring at her hands as she pulled them from her head.

  No blood.

  But now, she had to get her mind back in the game, because she could already hear chatter and laughter coming from the upper terrace.

  “I thought you were a cripple!” Delta shouted, hanging over the glass wall. “And here you are, drinking wine in the hot tub.” She wagged a finger in their direction. “I should have known you’d do all you could to get out of dancing.” She eyed the pair of them, waving the bottle of Grey Goose in the air. “We decided we couldn’t leave you, so we brought the booze with us. Are you two catching up on old times?”

  Tendrils of a cracking headache began sprouting in Abby’s brain. Had Delta’s final words had a knowing tone to them? She was too flummoxed to worry.

  “Stay where you are. I’m getting changed and coming in!” Delta shouted.

  “Okay!” Abby replied, glancing at Jordan.

  She was sitting, head flipped towards the stars.

  They’d started, but they hadn’t finished.

  Which was probably for the best.

  But clearly, nobody had told Abby’s heart.

  Chapter 19

  Jordan woke up wondering where she was. Her brain took a little while to put it all into place. She was in purgatory, that’s where.

  Otherwise known as Cannes, French city of dreams.

  Currently her city of what-the-fuck.

  She rolled over, cracking open a single eyelid. At least she wasn’t rolling over and into Abby. Now that would have been a monumental fuck-up.

  Perhaps her habit of not forcing things was a good one. Or perhaps Delta, Gloria et al turning up when they did last night had saved her and Abby the trouble of making one of the biggest mistakes of her life. The one that would cost her job.

  And then possibly steal her sanity. Because she might not have been in this situation before, but it was plain as day where it would end. She’d seen it before in books, in movies, and in real life.

  Rule number one: don’t be someone’s final fling.

  Rule number two: when one of the party is engaged to be married, things don’t normally turn out well.

  However, it didn’t make her feelings any less real.

  Plus, when Abby had looked into her eyes and told her she couldn’t stop thinking about her, that had seemed pretty real, too.

  She closed her eyes, regret and relief bubbling in her like a
n internal hot tub.

  Regret at not kissing Abby. Relief she hadn’t.

  A beep on her phone.

  Jordan rolled over and grabbed it. It was a text from Karen.

  How’s it going in Cannes? I hope you’ve put that killer red bikini to good use.’

  Karen had no idea.

  It’s going well. Interesting. I nearly kissed the bride last night.

  Her finger hovered over the send button. Should she press it? She did, before she could second-guess herself.

  An instant reply. Whaaaaaat!? How? Why?

  Jordan would love to answer those questions in a clear, honest manner. She couldn’t.

  She told me she has feelings for me. It’s a mess. We were alone in a hot tub. But we didn’t kiss. I have to put things right today. Wish me luck.

  A few seconds went by before she got a reply.

  Good luck. Just remember, she’s not who you should be with. Go to a bar, snog a random. Get it out of your system. Just don’t snog her.

  Jordan’s cheeks flushed as she thought about how close she’d come to doing exactly that. How far the barriers came down in the heat of the night, with nobody around.

  Millimetres is how close they’d come. She could still feel the touch of Abby’s breath on her lips.

  I won’t. Gotta go. Jordan flung her phone on the bed, then swung her legs onto the parquet floor. Thank god for air conditioning. Between the Cannes heat and her own issues, she’d have been toast by now.

  Operation Damage Limitation would start in half an hour. She glanced out at the pool. There was nobody there. Being an early riser had its plus points.

  She grabbed her red bikini from the drying rack in her bathroom, and pulled it on. Half an hour in the pool and then she’d be ready to face the day.

  As ready as she’d ever be.

  Jordan’s muscles ached as she strolled into the kitchen and got the fruit platter George the chef had left before leaving yesterday. The large ticking clock on the spotless kitchen wall told her it was an hour until their big breakfast was going to turn up, enough time to let the fruit come to room temperature, and for her to have a shower, and put the coffee on. She set ten white mugs out on the counter by the coffee machine, placed the cutlery and hen party napkins in neat lines, then stacked the bone china white plates beside that. Satisfied she’d done as much as she could, Jordan gave a nod and walked out of the kitchen.

  And straight into an oncoming Abby. She was wearing cut-off denim shorts and a white T-shirt that left little to the imagination. Was she even wearing a bra?

  Jordan needed to stop staring. She brought her gaze up to Abby’s face.

  Being so early, she had no make-up on yet. Jordan liked it.

  “Hey.” Jordan had been practising her first line to Abby the whole time she was swimming. But now she was in front of her, all her preparation had flown out the window. Abby had that effect on her.

  “Hey.” But Abby’s words weren’t what Jordan was following. Instead, she focused on Abby’s eyes, which were scanning her body.

  Shit. Jordan had thought she’d make it to her room before anyone got up. This hen party liked to sleep late. She was wearing her red bikini again. She might as well have been naked.

  Abby seemed to have temporarily lost the gift of speech.

  Jordan angled her head towards the door. “I was just going to get changed. Before breakfast turns up.”

  She curled her toes as time dragged.

  Abby stood up taller.

  “So I should just…” Jordan edged past Abby. She kept walking before Abby could stop her. Down the corridor. Up the grand, polished stairs. Footsteps followed her. When she turned, Abby was right behind her.

  “Keep going.” Abby bundled Jordan into her room, then closed the door. Abby pressed her back and palms into its solid wood. She took a deep breath, looking like this was the last place in the world she wanted to be. “I just wanted to chat about last night. We went to bed with everything left a little unsaid and I didn’t want it to be awkward today.”

  Jordan’s heart thumped in her chest. Standing in this bikini with Abby wasn’t a good start. She walked around the other side of the bed to put some distance between them. “It’s good it’s out in the open. But like you said, we got carried away. Nothing’s changed. We can still work together just like we have been.”

  Abby nodded. Like this was a solid plan. Not just some words to paper over the cracks. Like they were both master plasterers, and this plan was foolproof. Abby rubbed her hands together in front of her stomach, sucking on the inside of her cheek. “So we’re good? Back to being friends?”

  Jordan nodded, gritting her teeth. “Of course. Friends and colleagues. I’m your professional bridesmaid.”

  Abby looked like Jordan had just punched her in the gut.

  Jordan hadn’t meant to upset her. But perhaps it was the best thing to say. Present Abby with the bare facts, so they stayed in their lanes.

  Outside, a door slammed, making them both start.

  “You should go.” Jordan folded her arms across her chest. “Before your mum or Delta crash in here and think the worst.”

  “The truth.” Abby looked like she wanted to stuff the words back into her mouth. “God, what a mess.” She shook her head.

  Jordan walked around the bed. “Abby.” She took one of Abby’s hands in hers. “It’s not a mess yet, and it doesn’t have to be. A few weeks from now, you’ll look back and laugh. For now, you have to let me get showered so I can take charge of today. We’ve got breakfast to eat, then a wine tour to enjoy. It’s going to be fun. The last thing I want to do is spoil your hen weekend. You only get one of these, so please try to enjoy it. For yourself, and for everyone here who wants to celebrate with you.” Jordan squeezed her hand. “Will you try?”

  Abby nodded. “I’ll try.”

  Jordan dropped her hand. Then immediately wanted to take Abby in her arms and tumble onto the bed.

  But that wasn’t in the itinerary for today. Falling for the bride wasn’t on the spreadsheet. And Jordan was a slave to her spreadsheet.

  “I’m going to have a shower. You’re going to go out and make coffee. Then at ten, men will arrive on motorbikes to deliver our breakfast. There are worse days to live through, whatever it seems like right now.”

  It was the last stop on the wine tour and everybody was a little wasted.

  Including Abby.

  Okay, especially Abby.

  She kept looking at Jordan with sad, doleful eyes.

  Every time she did, Jordan shifted a little more uncomfortably in her seat at the front of their minibus. Any minute now, she was sure Abby was going to say something inappropriate. Sometimes, Jordan really hated alcohol and its tongue-loosening affect.

  Gloria perched on the front seat, modelling the hen T-shirt wonderfully. Everyone was wearing the same: a white T-shirt with the words Bride Squad written in gold swirly letters on the front. Behind them, as the radio strode towards the end of Bruno Mars’ song Marry You, the group belted out the final chorus. It had been one of the songs of the weekend, and now it was on the minibus radio. Jordan was already sick of it. However, she was smiling through like a dutiful host.

  “How many more wine stops have we got, Jordan?” Gloria asked.

  “One more before we head back for the final night’s dinner on the terrace under the stars.”

  “Sounds so romantic.” Abby was slurring. She whipped her head around and fixed Jordan with her stare. “I want to sit beside Jordan, my best old friend.”

  Every one of Jordan’s muscles tensed. The hot tub flashed through her mind. How they’d so nearly kissed. Now Abby was saying this? Was anyone else clocking it? Jordan looked around the group. She didn’t think so.

  “You’ve done such a good job.” Gloria beamed at Jordan.

  Jordan’s cheeks flushed. If only she knew.

  “The breakfast this morning was amazing. This wine tour has been out of this world, with a private bus and o
ur own guide. That lunch was spectacular, too.”

  It had been, exceeding even Jordan’s expectations. They’d lunched in the third vineyard, overlooking the vines, and the food had been Mediterranean and glorious. Just like the wine. Jordan had sat as far away from Abby as possible, and got to know her university friends a little more. She’d almost relaxed, but there had still been a couple of moments when she’d looked up and caught Abby’s gaze. Both times, her blood had stilled, and the volume turned down.

  She wasn’t surprised. They’d opened something here, hadn’t they? Much as it pained Jordan to admit, whatever it was, it was still going. Still rolling down the hill, and she had no idea how to stop its momentum. Not with a week to go before the wedding. A week of working with Abby and Marcus every day.

  Still, she was trying not to think about that, lest she give herself a stress ulcer. She’d got one when her parents divorced. It wasn’t something she wanted to repeat.

  “You should do this professionally, you’re that good,” Delta added, giving Jordan a wink. She always had to get a dig in.

  Still, Delta was the least of Jordan’s worries today. Plus, there was always one whose nose Jordan pushed out of joint. If she wasn’t careful, it was going to be the whole group.

  The radio DJ said something in French, then put the next track on.

  Jordan stilled. Drops Of Jupiter. The song she’d told Abby she loved. Hopefully she wouldn’t remember. With luck…

  “Jordan!” Abby’s voice was high-pitched.

  Too late.

  “This song reminds Jordan of her first love. She told me the other day, didn’t you Jordan? She was in love once. Just like me and Marcus!” Her tone was sing-song.

  Jordan closed her eyes, trying to block this out. It wasn’t working.

  Abby was trying to sing along even though she didn’t know the words. She was just about to launch into the chorus, when the bus pulled up at the final vineyard.

  Jordan leaned over and snapped off the radio, giving Abby a stern look. She was pretty sure it sailed right over her head.