Chapter One
Thank you for choosing this book. Join our mailing list and get bargain Kindle books from our bestselling Choc Lit authors every week!
CLICK HERE TO GET MORE LOVELY BOOK DEALS
Maggie couldn’t hold back a heavy sigh as she stared at the wedding reception seating chart.
‘Have they stuck you on the RT as well, honey?’
She glanced back over her shoulder and froze. Smiling right at her was the handsome stranger she’d noticed across the aisle in the church. She’d always been a pushover for a man with intriguing eyes and these were tawny, fringed with lashes so long and dark they should have been illegal, and sparkling with good humour.Stop that right now.You don’t do pick-ups at weddings. It’s undignified and desperate.
‘What on earth are you talking about?’ Her tone of voice was sharper than she’d intended.
‘The Reject Table.’ His deep smooth voice was laced with a delicious warm drawl she could’ve listened to all night. ‘Of coursetheywouldn’t call it that, they might gloss it over by using the term “Independents”, but we know the truth, don’t we?’
‘Do we?’ Maggie bristled. She refused to admit she knew precisely what he was talking about. She’d endured enoughof these ritual humiliations while seeming unable to sustain a relationship long enough to change her Facebook status.
‘Yeah, sure do. I’m guessin’ your English ones are the same as ours. We’ll have the elderly maiden aunt, the bitter newly divorced third cousin, the grumpy dishevelled organist,’ he counted them all up on his long, well-shaped fingers, ‘and of course the mandatory gaggle of single strays.’
‘And which category do you fall into?’ Maggie couldn’t believe she’d asked such a brazen question.
‘Take a wild guess,’ he challenged, and stepped closer so his arm brushed against hers.
God, he smells delicious. The tempting combination of spicy cologne, soap and something indefinably male wafted in the air and would’ve made her swoon — if she was the swooning type. Maggie’s middle name should’ve been Sensible.
‘Well, you’re obviously no one’s maiden aunt. The organist was sixty if he was a day and no one could describe you as dishevelled. By the process of elimination I’d say you’re the rogue transatlantic cousin representing the groom’s American grandmother who’s too old to travel.’ As soon as he’d spoken it’d clicked in her filing cabinet of a brain. She hadn’t helped the bride with the seating plans without gathering some useful information.
‘Spot on.’ His eyes darkened with surprise. ‘How about you?’ Maggie winced at his direct question. ‘Sorry, sore point?’
She lifted her chin and contrived to look unconcerned. ‘Not at all.’
‘Forgive me. I’m forgettin’ my manners all around today. I can’t believe I said that to a beautiful lady.’ He thrust out his right hand. ‘I’m Chad Robertson from Nashville in the great state of Tennessee. By day I’m a music attorney, and by night I turn into the rogue you rightly determined me to be. A singleone, if you’re at all interested.’ The almost-question hung in the air between them.
Maggie’s curt reply dried in her throat as Chad’s strong, warm fingers wrapped around hers in a firm handshake.
‘Do you have a name? Fellow single stray.’ Chad’s warm minty breath caressed the skin on her neck as he leaned down and whispered in her ear.
‘Maggie. Maggie Taylor,’ she croaked in a distinctly unsexy way.‘Cake decorator and childhood friend of Fiona, the bride.’
‘You’ve got a choice, Miss Maggie, you can eat lukewarm chicken and listen to self-satisfied speeches or sneak away and drink champagne with me in the garden? Which is it to be?’ A playful grin crept across Chad’s face.
‘Won’t we be missed?’ Maggie said, out of sheer curiosity. She had no intention of giving in to Chad’s outrageous suggestion for a multitude of reasons — mainly the fact she was here primarily to work, and the time it had taken to get her oldest friend married off was her only reprieve.
‘I sure won’t be. Peter barely knows me from Adam and I only met Fiona for the first time yesterday. It might be different for you.’ His gleaming eyes swept down over her and every cell in Maggie’s body vied for attention. ‘I can’t imagine not missing you.’
She was stunned into silence.
‘I’m game if you are.’ Chad offered and Maggie couldn’t resist smiling back.
‘There you are. I’ve been looking for youeverywhere.’ Emily’s exasperated voice broke through the moment and her sister appeared right by them. ‘I need you in the kitchen right now.’ She frowned and grabbed hold of Maggie’s arm. ‘There’s a problem with the cake.’
Typical. This was her luck in a nutshell. Good-looking, single man appears and flirts with her and naturally she has togo back to work. ‘Don’t panic, Ems, it’ll be alright,’ she reassured and gave Chad an apologetic shrug before turning away. By the time she sorted out the cake her would-be Prince Charming would’ve found himself another Cinderella.
* * *
‘Sorry to drag you away from the gorgeous hunk you were drooling over,’ Emily quipped. ‘I’ll let you have another go at him as soon as you’ve worked out what to do withthat.’ She flung open the swinging door into the kitchen and pointed to what had been the bride’s dream cake. The elaborate pink and white, five-tiered confection made of luscious almond sponge and layered with fresh raspberries was now strewn all over the table and floor, the wreckage resembling a war zone.
Maggie bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. It was the only way to stop from screaming or bursting into tears, neither of which would help the situation. She and Emily had only formed Two Hearts Catering two months ago and this was their first proper contract — she didn’t count providing sausage rolls and cocktail pasties for their Aunt Judy’s sixtieth birthday party a couple of weeks ago. Failing today wasn’t an option. ‘Tell me what happened.’
