‘Friends of my family,’ Oliver said absently, his eyes still on the girl. ‘Do you know what the trauma was? Bryony wouldn’t tell me. How crazy is that? She asks me to look after her friend for the next month but doesn’t give me any clue as to the problem.’
‘That’s women for you. Totally illogical.’ Jack smothered a yawn. ‘But I’m pretty sure it was something to do with a man. Relationships are the pits.’
Oliver raised a dark eyebrow. ‘Am I supposed to black your eye at this point? You’re standing in church waiting to marry my sister.’
‘Well, obviously I don’t mean my relationship,’ Jack amended hastily, glancing towards the door again, ‘but think of all the women I had
to date before I finally found Bryony.’
‘Bryony was under your nose for twenty-two years. It’s not her fault you’re a bit on the slow side.’
Jack looked at him curiously. ‘Did you know I loved her?’
‘Of course,’ Oliver said wearily. ‘Tom and I laid bets as to when you’d finally click.’
‘You should have told me.’
‘Well, in case you’ve forgotten, you weren’t that keen on the whole concept of commitment,’ Oliver said dryly, his eyes flickering back to Helen. ‘Is that what happened to her? Did some guy break her heart?’
Jack frowned. ‘You’re a doctor, for goodness’ sake. Hearts don’t break.’
‘Yes, they do.’ Oliver’s voice was soft. ‘I’m visiting an old lady at the moment who lost her husband of fifty-five years last summer. She’s in a mess.’
‘That’s depression,’ Jack said firmly. ‘Trust me, her heart is still intact.’
Oliver shook his head. ‘Unless I can find her another reason to live, she’s going to die. I know it.’ He frowned, unable to stop worrying about Hilda Graham, even though technically he wasn’t working. ‘She’s a dear old soul but all her family have moved down south. I need to find her a surrogate family. Someone for her to worry about and care about.’
Jack sighed. ‘I just don’t get you, Oliver Hunter. You’re Mr Rough and Tough on the outside but on the inside you’re like marshmallow. I’m amazed you didn’t settle down and have fifty children ten years ago.’
‘My parents had the perfect marriage. I’m waiting for Miss Right. And when I spot her I’m going to be quicker off the mark than you.’ He looked at the girl in the blue suit, thinking that he’d never been so drawn to a woman in his life.
‘I’m waiting for Miss Right, too,’ Jack muttered, his eyes still on the back of the church. ‘And I wish she’d get a move on. At this rate we’re going to miss our flight.’
‘I still can’t believe you’re going on honeymoon for a month.’ Oliver looked at his friend in disbelief. ‘Most people have two weeks, some have three. Four is excessive.’
‘Not for what I have planned. We’re sorting out Lizzie’s Christmas present.’ Jack gave a wicked grin. ‘Your niece and my soon-to-be stepdaughter wants a baby sister for her Christmas present next year so I figure Bryony and I need to give it our best shot.’
Oliver pulled a face. ‘Enough. I don’t even want to think about you having sex with my sister. And whatever you do, don’t say that to Tom. You know how protective he is of Bryony.’
‘I’m marrying her, for goodness’ sake!’
‘I realise that. Why else would I be dressed in this ridiculous outfit?’ Oliver glanced down at himself with distaste. ‘I honestly can’t believe I agreed to this.’
Jack grinned. ‘You look beautiful, darling.’
Oliver glowered at him. ‘And you’re going to look beautiful with matching black eyes.’
‘We’re in church and your mother is watching us,’ Jack reminded him cheerfully. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘Don’t bet on it,’ Oliver muttered darkly. ‘When Ben and Ellie got married they virtually did it in climbing boots. None of this fancy stuff.’
‘Your sister wanted a fairy-tale wedding,’ Jack said simply, and Oliver shook his head in disbelief.
‘Do you know that you’ve undergone a complete personality change since you put that engagement ring on her finger two weeks ago? You were the guy who was never getting married and here am I dressed like a penguin and pretty soon you’re going to have 2.4 children. The world’s gone mad.’
‘I love your sister. Enough said.’ Jack’s eyes slid to the girl at the back of the church. ‘Helen does look awful, doesn’t she?’
‘She’s going to faint,’ Oliver said calmly. ‘The only question is, when? Is she ill? She looks ill—rack your brains and try and remember what has happened to her.’