Cooper tried to ignore the instant rush of panic and think how a supportive husband would respond. He tried to imagine what Moses or Bear would do, but he was too disconcerted to think clearly, so decided to go on instinct and take hold of her hand. When that seemed to go down okay, he shuffled up closer and put his arm around her, grabbing a tissue from the box she’d left on the coffee table and handing it to her. He couldn’t come up with anything to say apart from, ‘It’s okay,’ and her gasping sobs indicated it wasn’t at all okay, so he kept quiet.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, eventually, words thick with tears. ‘I’m so overwhelmed with everything right now, and so tired and there’s still so much to do, and Mamma keeps texting me to say actually can we have quiches with the afternoon tea and remember that Uncle Kenny can’t sit near cousin Keith at the reception because of a thirty-four-year-old feud about a missing bottle of Tizer and, I mean, why not? It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do, being wedding organiser and chief bridesmaid! And then Paolo’s grilling me about what Bridget would want in his vows, as if I should know better than him. Orla’s asking if I can pick the kids up and Annie’s wondering what I had in mind for the hen-do, as if I have any brain cells spare for something like that. Then you take a week off work. To be my dogsbody. And I think that’s the nicest thing that anyone’s done for me in ages.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Emma tucked her head into his neck, resting her hand on his chest, and Cooper breathed a sigh of relief that he’d got this right. Then, after a minute or so she moved her hand to his cheek, tilted her head up and kissed him gently on the lips. ‘Thank you.’
He swallowed. She must have felt it, because she pulled back, dropping her hand to take his again.
‘Look, while we’re talking about stuff – although I know we weren’t talking aboutthatstuff – I wonder if, what with it being so busy, and my head being a frazzled mess, if we should agree to maybe put some…thingsto one side for now. I’m not sure now would be a good time to try taking our relationship to the next level. If you know what I mean.’
Cooper coughed sharply, instinctively straightening upright and away from her. ‘Yes, I know what you mean,’ he blurted. ‘And that’s fine. Of course. I wasn’t even thinking that…’
‘I mean, if it ends up, well, happening, at some point, that’s great. I mean, I hope it’ll be great, obviously. Oh! No. That came out wrong.’ Emma’s eyes widened with horror.
‘Emma.’ Maybe it was because booking the time off work had gone down so well, maybe they’d simply got beyond the point of faffing around the subject, but Cooper decided to step up. ‘We’ve known each other less than a month. And for a lot of that time things have been, well, stressful for you. We’ve had a handful of dates. I’m not expecting anything, until we both know it’s absolutely right. No pressure. No clock ticking. We’ve got a long time to get to that. The last thing we want to do is push things and then regret it later.’ He cleared his throat again. ‘I’m sure it’ll be worth waiting for. But there are other priorities, like getting to know and trust and… love each other. That and making one hundred top-rate macaroons. So, no worrying about when or where or how it’s going to happen, okay? Deal?’
Emma nodded. ‘Deal.’
‘You don’t sound very sure.’ He picked up their mugs, handing Emma hers.
She looked down for a moment before lifting her eyes to look straight at his, a smile beginning to curl at the edges of her mouth. ‘Deal.’
They clinked mugs. ‘Although keep on making speeches like that and it’ll be happening sooner rather than later.’
Cooper choked on his coffee.
* * *
After spending the Monday afternoon before the pop-up picking up tablecloths and homemade bunting from a Mrs Milano and dropping them off at the farmhouse, Gabriella insisted he stay and have a coffee on the patio with Greg, who was apparently ‘rattling around with nothing to do but stare at his phone and hope it starts ringing.’
‘You should come and help Emma,’ Cooper found himself saying. ‘Come tomorrow.’
‘Oh, now, Emma is perfectly capable of managing a few scones and cakes.’ Gabriella tutted, unloading a tray of drinks and loaded bruschetta on the patio table. ‘She runs a very successful business! Greg is a Senior Accounts Manager. He doesn’t want to be stuck in Emma’s kitchen being bossed about. I love my eldest daughter, but she is a baking bossy boots.’
Cooper raised his eyebrows at Greg, hoping that conveyed the other reason why he might want to be there.
‘Actually, I like a bit of baking, Mrs D. Tell Emma I’ll be there.’
Cooper shook his head, gently enough that Gabriella didn’t spot it.
‘Or not. I’m still a bit jet-lagged. Might need to check in with the office. I’ll think about it, see how it goes. Best not tell anyone about it, so I don’t end up letting them down.’
Cooper messaged Emma as soon as he got back in his car to tell her Greg would be at the Cakery the next day.
She replied a split second later.
Perfect!!
He couldn’t help grinning as he drove away. Afternoons like this felt pretty damn close to it.
* * *
Emma
My Cakery kitchen had never been so crowded. I was loving it and hating it at the same time. Nita was in one corner icing lemon drizzle cakes with Eli, the fifteen-year-old who was staying with Sofia and Moses again. We didn’t ask why. Neither did we ask why he was here, zesting lemons, rather than in school. He dropped his haunted expression and very nearly smiled when Annie asked Sofia if she was going to ‘start beating those eggs, or just pray the power of love can whip them into shape.’ So we figured being here was doing some good.
Sofia had raised her eyebrows at me when she walked in and saw Cooper grating cheese in one corner. Sister-speak for, ‘So, things are going okay, then?’
