Holiday with the Best Man

‘I am.’ He smiled. ‘And you’re close to yours.’

‘I’m lucky,’ she said simply.

He could tell that Grace was thinking about her almost-in-laws. What he didn’t understand was why on earth her ex-fiancé’s family hadn’t liked her. She was sensible, kind and tactful. And, once you got past her shyness, she was fun. Yes, she had a nerdy streak, but that meant she looked at things from a different viewpoint—and in turn that made him look at things differently, too.

Though this dating thing was a temporary deal. And she’d just come out of a long relationship; she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to rush into anything new. He didn’t want to rush into anything, either. So he needed to keep these burgeoning feelings firmly under control, because they just weren’t appropriate.

The orchestra began playing on stage, so he was saved from further conversation. But every so often he sneaked a glance at Grace to check that she was enjoying herself. And once or twice he caught her sneaking a glance at him, too. In the darkening evening, her cornflower-blue eyes were almost navy. Hypnotic.

As the fireworks began, he found himself sliding an arm across the back of her chair. If she asked, he’d say it was because he was worried she might be cold—English summer evenings weren’t that warm. He certainly wouldn’t tell her that it was because he wanted to be close to her. ‘OK?’ he asked.

‘Very OK,’ she said with a smile. ‘This is absolutely gorgeous—the music, the fireworks and the reflections. It’s the perfect combination. Thank you so much for bringing me.’

‘My pleasure,’ he said, meaning it. He couldn’t remember when he’d relaxed so much, just enjoying his surroundings and chilling out. And he knew it was all down to Grace. Her quiet calmness made him feel grounded.

Maybe, he thought, he should suggest turning this from a practice run to a real relationship. See where it took them. But would she say yes? Or would she back away?

He managed to keep his thoughts under control during the fireworks, and driving home in the dark meant that he needed to concentrate and didn’t have the headspace for thinking. But once they were back in Docklands he found the question buzzing through his head again.

Should he ask her?

Or should he do the sensible thing and back away?

In the end, Grace made the decision for him, by kissing him on the cheek. ‘Thank you for tonight, Roland. It was every bit as fabulous as I dreamed it would be. And it was even nicer because it was a total surprise.’

‘My pleasure,’ he said automatically. She’d kissed his cheek, not his mouth. Meaning that he needed to back off.

Before he could suggest making a drink so he could linger in her company just that little bit longer, she said, ‘I’ll see you in the morning, then. Good night.’

‘Good night,’ he said. ‘Sleep well.’

Though he had a feeling that he wouldn’t. Grace was stirring feelings in him that he thought were long buried. And, even though he was usually so sure about what he was doing, right now he felt as if he was walking blindfold along a path littered with lumps and bumps and holes, having to feel his way to make sure he stayed on his feet.

Maybe he’d manage to get his common sense back into place overnight.

Maybe.

CHAPTER SIX

GRACE’S MOUTH WAS soft and sweet, and Roland couldn’t get enough of it. Yet he wanted a deeper intimacy, too. He’d just unzipped her dress when he heard something banging.

Then he realised it was the door.

His bedroom door.

And he was completely alone in bed. It was Sunday morning, and he’d been dreaming about making love with Grace. Heat rushed through his cheeks.

‘Roland? Can I come in?’ a voice called.

Grace.

The heat in his face intensified. No way did he want her to have any idea what he’d just been thinking about. On the other hand, he didn’t have a valid excuse to tell her to go away. ‘Uh—yeah,’ he mumbled, hoping that he’d be able to think on his feet, and sat up.

She walked in carrying a tray. ‘No sweet peas, I’m afraid. But I hope you’ll like this.’ Then she looked at his bare chest and blushed. ‘Um. Sorry. I didn’t realise...’

‘I’m wearing pyjama bottoms,’ he said hastily. But he was very glad that the duvet was piled in his lap and hid his arousal. He didn’t want to embarrass either of them.