Proposal for the Wedding Planner

‘I know the feeling,’ Dan said wryly. ‘Trust me, when you’re Riley Black’s brother you spend a lot of time in the shadows, too. It’s like you said—we understand each other. Which is why I’m going to ask you again. Why are you scared of Melissa?’

Sighing, Laurel stretched out her legs in front of her, and on impulse rested her head against his shoulder. Why couldn’t constant support and understanding somehow magically come without having to actually talk about things? She wasn’t used to having to talk about herself instead of Melissa. She didn’t like it.

‘I’m not scared of her. Not exactly...’ she began.

Dan snorted. ‘That’s not how it looked to me.’

‘Oh, really? Perhaps that was because you were egging her on.’ Laurel bristled. ‘Don’t think I didn’t notice how you suddenly started playing up the close body contact and the kisses on the top of the head the moment she arrived.’

Dan’s laugh was utterly unrepentant. ‘Can you blame me? I mean, what’s the point of doing this if we can’t enjoy it.’

‘And you enjoyed upsetting my sister?’

‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘But I’m not going to deny that reminding her that she’s not the only thing that exists in the universe—let alone the only thing that actually matters—felt kind of good.’

Laurel sighed. ‘I know what you mean. Melissa...she gets a little self-focussed. I don’t know if it’s a celebrity thing, or a no-father-until-she-was-sixteen thing—’

‘I think it’s a Melissa thing,’ Dan interrupted. ‘Yeah, she had some issues growing up. And, yeah, now she’s a big star. But that doesn’t mean she should be able to get away with treating everyone else like they don’t matter.’

Laurel looked at him, trying to make out his features in the darkness. The same fears she’d felt earlier rose up inside her and she knew she had to ask. ‘Are you planning on trying to stop the wedding? I mean, if you think so little of Melissa...are you really going to let her marry your brother?’

Dan sighed. ‘The thing is—and this is one of those things Melissa doesn’t understand—it’s not up to me. I don’t get to say who my brother falls in love with, or when. Do I want to make sure that he understands who he’s marrying, make sure she’s not lying to him about anything? Sure. But stop the wedding...’ He shook his head. ‘Like I told Melissa. True love doesn’t work to order.’

‘You meant that? I figured you were just winding her up.’

She felt him shrug, his T-shirt rubbing against her bare arms under the blanket. ‘In my experience love is the most unpredictable—and inconvenient—thing in the world.’

He sounded more resigned than bitter, which Laurel took as a good sign. But his comments still left her with more questions than answers.

‘You’ve been in love before?’

The way he’d said it, she knew he meant real love. The for ever, all-encompassing kind. Not whatever she’d shared with Benjamin. She wondered what that felt like—and how it must tear a person apart once it was gone.

‘Once,’ he said shortly. ‘I don’t recommend it.’

They sat in silence again, until Laurel felt a yawn creeping up her throat and covered her mouth as it stretched wide.

‘You need to get some sleep.’ Dan slid down, back into a lying position, taking her and the covers with him. ‘Big day tomorrow.’

‘I know.’

But going to sleep would mean breaking this fragile connection between them—and moving away from the comfort of his embrace. His arm around her, his body at her side...they were physical reminders that she wasn’t alone in this. And here in the darkness, with Melissa’s barbs and meanings twisting in her brain, she needed that.

But needy was never a good look on a person. For all she knew he was starting to regret ever suggesting this thing. Maybe if he’d known how damaged she really was he wouldn’t have bothered.

She wouldn’t have blamed him.

With a breath so deep it was nearly a sigh, she shuffled back down into the bed and rolled away from him, turning her back as she tried to get comfortable enough on her side to sleep.

‘Goodnight, Dan,’ she whispered.

In response a hand brushed over her side, finding her fingers under the duvet and holding on. She clung to them, relief flooding through her.

‘Goodnight, Laurel.’ He squeezed her hand, then let go again. ‘I’m glad we have each other this week.’

He wouldn’t have said it in the daylight, Laurel realised. Even though it was the premise of their whole agreement, he wouldn’t have admitted that need when she could see him.

But in the darkness...there was no need for secrets.

Laurel smiled into the night. ‘Me too.’

* * *

Laurel was already gone when Dan woke up the next morning, and for a brief, stupid moment he felt his heart clench at her absence. Another woman gone—except he wasn’t trying to keep this one, was he?

Keep it together, Black.

Rolling over, he squinted at his watch on the bedside table. Eleven-thirty. No wonder he was waking alone. Laurel must have been up early and working, while he slept off his jet lag and too much champagne.

He’d feel guiltier if it hadn’t been the best night’s sleep he’d had in years.

Not that he was putting that down to Laurel being in the bed with him. But maybe it was those shared confidences in the darkness, the reassurance that he wasn’t alone in dealing with his family for once. Even the memory of his mother’s face as Laurel went on about the importance of following a dream. All of it had added up to let him feel...what, exactly? Safe? Secure? He’d been those things for years, except when he was making a movie. Except it wasn’t physical safety he’d felt. More a feeling of...home.

Which was crazy—and clearly the jet lag talking, because he was three thousand miles away from home, and stuck there all week.

But at least he was stuck there with Laurel.

And that really wasn’t a thought he wanted to examine too closely.

He showered and dressed quickly, whistling as he ran a towel over his damp hair. It was bitterly cold outside, but his hair was short enough to dry fast, hopefully without freezing. Dan pulled his leather jacket on over his jeans and jumper and headed out to find his fake girlfriend.

‘All the other guests are already down at the Frost Fair, sir.’

The man behind the reception desk eyed him with suspicion. Dan wasn’t a hundred per cent sure if he was concerned about what Dan might have been up to all morning, or if he felt that he wasn’t suitably attired or recognisable enough to be attending the wedding in the first place. Either way, Dan was satisfied with the outcome. He didn’t want to look the same as all those overpaid mannequins, and making people worry about what he might have planned was always fun. So he flashed the receptionist a smile, and headed out in the direction of the river.

He heard the Frost Fair before he smelt it, and smelt it long before he saw it. The scent of cinnamon and apple and winter hung in the air, all the way up to Morwen Hall, and t

he sound of laughter, conversation and strange music hit him as he turned the corner down to the water.

Dan smiled at the sounds, grinning even more widely as a veritable village of wooden stalls and rustic huts came into view along the riverbank. It looked like fun—and utterly unlike the showbiz parties the women he dated from time to time were always trying to drag him along to or use him to get into.

This, he knew, had to be all Laurel—not Melissa. Yes, it was a spectacle, and impressive. But it was also something new, something different, and relaxed in a way Melissa wouldn’t even have begun to imagine when she’d been planning her wedding. But more than anything it was fun. Not a statement, not the latest trend, just pure, wintry fun.

And fun this week was always down to Laurel, he was learning.

Dan made his way through the rows of stalls and entertainment booths, helping himself to some spiced apple cider and admiring the wood carvings and painted pottery on the way. Local craftspeople, apparently, showcasing their wares.

He nodded to himself. Yep, definitely all Laurel. Except his wedding planner was nowhere to be seen.

Sipping his cider, he continued his search, nodding at acquaintances as he passed and ducking behind a stall providing a hog roast for the guests when he spotted his parents across the way.

He finally found Laurel at the far end of the Frost Fair, looking completely out of place in her smart coat and holding her clipboard. The whole day felt so relaxed—like a holiday—but Laurel was still all work, keeping everything running smoothly for Melissa. Where was the bride, anyway? Had she even come down to see the festival Laurel had put on for her? Somehow Dan doubted it.

Seemed to him that Laurel spent far too much of her life trying to satisfy her half-sister, to make up for a past that wasn’t even her fault. And in return Melissa spent her time making life even more difficult for Laurel.