She looked at him, eyes wide with pleading. ‘I’m not asking Annie or Orla, even if they weren’t flat out already. And Sofia would talk me into wearing something that costs ten pounds from Oxfam. Or her old dress. Which was fine. For her.’
‘And you think I’ll do a better job of making sure you get what you want?’ He shook his head, incredulous. ‘You’d be better off asking your mum.’
‘Look, it’s not really about the dress though, is it?’ she replied, veering dangerously close to a shriek.
He waited until she’d taken a few deep breaths, hand pressed against her chest, and opened her eyes again.
‘I’m having a bit of a freak out. And it might not really be about the dress. I don’t want one of my sisters’ probing interrogations, prodding me about why I’m not skipping about with bridal glee. I can’t hack their judgements while I’m trying to figure out if I’m ready to be steamrollered into this wedding yet.’
What?
Cooper swung back to his desk and pretended to be checking his phone while concentrating on holding his mouth closed to prevent his jaw from hitting the floor.
‘I was doing fine at ignoring my niggles, and then seeing Sam and Orla, and how they’ve always been so in love but ended up drifting and nearly shipwrecking their whole family anyway. And now she’s given up her job to take care of him. To repair the damage.’ She threw herself into a chair. ‘I just suddenly thought what if I’m only marrying Paolo because he’s always been there, and we love each other and it’s a good fit with the shop and everything?’
Cooper kept his gaze on the stapler on his desk. ‘Aren’t those all very good reasons for marrying him?’
‘Then why am I freaking out about a dress?’
He spoke slowly in the hope it would hide the tremble in his voice. ‘Because you aren’t sure if you like the dress?’
‘Will you please come with me so I can see? I trust you to be honest and tell me if it’s the right one for me or not. However much hassle that might cause.’
He didn’t ask if she meant the dress or Paolo.
* * *
The dress was perfect.
When Bridget stepped out of the changing room his heart slammed so hard against his ribs Cooper had to stifle a gasp.
Even with hair in a mussed-up ponytail, face free of make-up, Converse trainers clearly showing beneath the skirt, she was perfect.
He blinked a few times. Cleared his throat. Stuck his hands in his pockets.
‘So?’ she asked, chewing on her bottom lip. His heart gave up thumping and simply dissolved.
He managed a nod. ‘It’s great.’
‘Great?’The shop assistant tutted. ‘Is that the best word you can come up with?’
It’s the safest I can come up with, for now.
This was wrong, him being here. He’d thought he was ready. Had even sent Emma a text while Bridget was getting changed, saying that he was thinking of her, compelling himself to think about her, and what she meant to him, the promises he’d made, just in case seeing Bridget in the dress resuscitated impossible dreams that should have died years ago.
He’d been wrong. He wasn’t close to being ready to stand in front of Bridget in her wedding dress.
What scared him witless was the possibility that he might never be.
And she expected his honest opinion?
Damn.
He needed to go, now.
Only that would require an explanation he couldn’t tell her. So, he did what he’d always done in order to survive being hopelessly in love with Bridget Donovan. Shut the feelings down, got a grip and shunted back into Friend Mode. He could handle this. He’d had enough practice.
Bridget took a few steps closer to the wall of mirrors. Swung her dress from side to side so that the millions of tiny coloured flowers sparkled in the shop lights. ‘You’re right. It’s awesome.’
