Hannah Baxter was standing on a wooden box in a froth of powder blue – a corset-style beaded bodice with spaghetti straps and a gathered satin floor-length skirt overlaid with tulle. The dressmaker was currently attaching embroidered patches to the skirt so that it looked as if the flowers were falling from the bodice.
Sophie was standing on another box in an even more voluminous froth of white, having ridiculously generous puffed sleeves pinned into place on her own beaded bodice.
‘But I want to beyourbridesmaid. If you ever get around to setting the date, that is. Do you know how long the waiting list can be for the kind of venue your family will want you to have?’
‘That’s why we’re not going to set a date. We’re going to elope and go to Vegas and get an Elvis impersonator to do the deed. Or we might just go to the nearest registry office. You could come and be a witness for us.’
Sophie raised her arms so the sleeves could be pinned underneath.
‘Your parents will be devastated if you don’t have a proper wedding.’
‘No they won’t. Thanks to you and Tom, they’re getting everything they could ever wish for so we can do whatwewant. Can you even imagine Luc standing in front of an altar in a tux and top hat, waiting for someone to float down the aisle like a giant meringue on wheels?’
‘He’s doing it for Tom’s wedding,’ Sophie pointed out.
‘Only because he loves Tom more than he loves me.’ Hannah’s sigh was theatrical. ‘I think he only agreed to marry me because it will officially make him a real brother.’
The dresses were eased off both the young women and they were left to get changed back into their street clothes. They were alone in a room cushioned by racks of gowns and naked mannequins. Sophie fastened the button on her jeans and reached for her shirt, throwing a glance towards her best friend.
‘Are you happy?’ she asked quietly. ‘About marrying Luc?’
Hannah’s eyebrows rose. ‘Why wouldn’t I be? He’s not bad looking, you know.’
Sophie managed a huff of laughter. ‘Is he? I hadn’t noticed.’
‘Well, that’s only because you’ve been blinded by my brother’s golden glow. I had a friend when I was sixteen who was besotted with Luc; she wanted a poster to put up in her bedroom, beside all her rock star crushes.’ It was Hannah’s turn to laugh. ‘Not that I had the hots for him. That would have been as weird as fancying Tom.’
‘But it’s not weird now?’ Sophie could imagine that poster on the wall only too vividly. She’d had to repeatedly rip down a mental version of it in the days following that camping trip. The increasingly busy wedding preparations were helping a lot now. The safe future Sophie had dreamed of was within touching distance. She and Tom were house hunting and that had led to some happy planning for how many bedrooms they might need and whether there was a tree big enough to support the swing that was a non-negotiable accessory for their future garden.
Hannah didn’t brush the question off with a flippant response this time. Pulling her sweatshirt on, she came and sat beside Sophie on an antique chaise longue that was decorative but still useful for getting their shoes back on.
‘You know those romance stories that have the “friends to lovers” theme?’
Sophie nodded.
‘Well, this is like a step up from that. Luc’s been like a brother to me since I was a kid. I know I can trust him 1,000 per cent. I love him. I know he loves me. It might not be about to explode into the kind of fireworks that you get in those books but… how real are they, anyway? Apart from people like you and Tom, of course. I know you two can’t keep your hands off each other.’
The sound Sophie made was like a strangled laugh. As if she was embarrassed?
To outward appearances, she was simply taking up the slack in her laces before tying knots on her trainers but she was pulling them tightly enough to feel like it was helping to stop any words escaping.
She wanted to say that those fireworkswerereal. Even thinking about the fantasies she’d had to force herself to relinquish sent an echo through her body like bubbles fizzing through her veins. They were real enough for it to be nearly impossible to walk away from their promised ecstasy, no matter how much she needed to or how hard she tried.
And Sophie was trying very, very hard.
So was Luc. She knew that because she recognised some of the tactics he was using. Like never being alone in a room with her. If it was even a possibility, one of them would find an excuse to walk away, by picking up dishes to carry to the kitchen, perhaps, a sudden need to use the bathroom, or simply remembering something they had to say to either Tom or Hannah before they forgot. They avoided eye contact. Any breaks in conversation that could have been awkward weren’t filled with something as enjoyable as a debate about something controversial. These days they were filled with discussions about the wedding. Weddings plural, sometimes. A pointed reminder of what the future held for all of them. They were going to be part of each other’s lives.
It had worked fine before.
Theyhadto make it work again.
‘Even if the fireworksarethere,’ Sophie heard herself saying aloud, ‘it’s just the chemical side of being in love. It doesn’t last. And you can’t trust it.’
‘I’d still like to try it,’ Hannah admitted. ‘You know what they say about hunger being the best condiment for food?’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Well… I think being in love might be the best condiment to sex. It might take it to a whole new level. Make it perfect, even… like it is in the books.’
