Well, obviously.Once, that comment would have felt like a scalpel jammed between his ribs. Today? More of a hard poke. He was getting there. Not where he should have been, given the circumstances, but this whole thing was going to take time. Emma would understand that.
‘Let me see, what else?’ Bridget pretended to think about it as they walked back to the house. ‘Oh, how about the ability to change a car battery? Or brew his own cider? Hmm, what else…? Paolo has a brilliant business mind, he’s most certainly never been forced to resign because everyone in his company hates him. In fact, he is eminently likeable. Not moody or withdrawn or prone to disappearing on me because a fancy job turns up in Cardiff. I always know where I stand with Paolo.’ She grinned, eyes dancing.
‘You always know where you stand with me, Widget,’ Cooper replied, his voice soft and serious. ‘The only difference now is, you’re officially family as well as my friend.’
Bridget stopped walking then, as they reached the farmhouse door. ‘Well, as your friend, and your sister, I’m here for you with all the Donovan family inside info and advice you might need. I know it’s not the best chance, statistically, despite you scoring 94 per cent in the compatibility test. But I’m hoping and praying with all I’ve got that you’ll be happy. I don’t know anyone who deserves it more than you two do.’
‘Thank you. But you’re involved enough in my marriage as it is, thanks. I think me and Emma are best figuring it out on our own.’
‘Fair enough.’ Bridget opened the door. ‘I guess you’re on your own, then.’
But for the first time since he was five years old, he wasn’t, Cooper thought as he stepped back into the hubbub of the farmhouse. Wasn’t that the whole point of marriage, after all?
16
Emma
Okay, so the time had come. We’d put it off long enough, with chit-chat, cups of tea and yet more wedding cake. It was now pushing nine o’clock, Orla and Sam were ready to get the kids to bed, the guys had helped Nita and Vik clean up the kitchen, Dad wouldn’t be resurfacing until the morning and everyone else had had enough of my mother for one weekend.
Ben would also be joining us, having spent the day using his wily documentary skills to extract juicy information from each family member, most of them without even realising. I was slightly relieved to have the extra person, partly because it delayed the moment when Cooper and I would be alone, and partly because he had that photographer’s knack of breaking awkward tension and helping people relax. Putting his good looks to one side, he was easy company, and it was becoming clear that neither the bride nor groom was that.
I ignored the questioning prickle that hinted maybe Ben would have been an easier blind-date husband. He might have been easier while riding along in the taxi to our B & B, but who knows what he would have expected once we got to the honeymoon suite? Or for the days, weeks and years we were stuck together afterwards. A noose for two, if my memory was still functioning correctly after three too many glasses of Prosecco and a shot of finest Irish whiskey to calm my nerves.
Ben filmed Cooper opening the taxi door for me, and carrying our overnight bags into the cottage where we were staying. The owner of the B & B, a friend of Mum’s and therefore someone who knew my romantic history in excruciating detail, signed us in with a wink and showed us to our room. She opened the door before turning to Ben, hands on generous hips.
‘I have welcomed a lot of newly-weds to Lavender Cottage, and, I must say, these are the first who’ve brought the videographer with them. Sir, are you planning on filming the whole night? Because we are not that sort of establishment, and I don’t believe that Bear and Gabriella’s eldest daughter is that sort of woman. If you would kindly turn off the camera, I will escort you to your room.’
Ben grinned from behind the lens. ‘Sorry, I’ve been paid to do a job. You’ll have to take that up with my client.’
The proprietor let out a harrumph. ‘I’ll rephrase, for clarity. You shall turn off the camera, and allow me to escort you to your room, or else I shall call the police, and allow them to escort you to the police station.’
‘Boss?’ Ben asked.
‘Ben’s filming a documentary, Mrs Lavender,’ I said. ‘He’s conducting a short interview with us, and then returning to his own room.’
‘Oh,’ Mrs Lavender said, one hand flying up to preen her hair as her face assumed a glinty smile. ‘Is it going to be on television?’
‘No!’ I practically shouted, the very thought curdling the whiskey in my stomach.
‘You never know!’ Ben replied at the same time.
‘Yes, we do know. It is definitely not going to be on television.’ Cooper glared at Ben, nodded politely at Mrs Lavender and, before I had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief, scooped me up and carried me over the threshold.
I liked how he had asserted himself over Ben. I also liked the feel of his arms cradling my shoulders, and how I felt snug, pressed against his chest… but I don’t think either of us knew what to do next.
‘You can put me down now,’ I whispered.
‘Right.’ Cooper glanced around, as if looking for a suitable place to deposit me. The large room had been honeymooned-up, with several vases of white roses to match my bouquet, and petals scattered across the enormous bed. There was champagne on ice, and a box of fancy vegan chocolates. Panic fluttered in my chest when I saw the tiny silk robe hanging outside the bathroom door. If it had been a proper robe size, it might have covered the sheer pane of glass taking up most of the door. The panic morphed into a deranged flapping when I realised it gave a direct view to the toilet.
I hadn’t allowed any of my family to share a bathroom with me since I hit puberty. Jake hadn’t seen me in such a compromising position, and we’d been together for six years. Maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe Helen Richards wasn’t uptight about that sort of thing. Either way, that was irrelevant, because I didn’t want a man I barely knew but needed to impress and earn the respect of watching me wee. Could I hold my bladder until morning?
‘Right here is fine,’ I croaked.
Cooper gently placed me on the patterned rug. We stood next to each other for a moment, trying to look calm and as if we were having a nice time.
‘Lovely room,’ he said, nodding his head.
‘Yes, and the flowers are beautiful.’
