Their bodies found a fit and a rhythm. Their hips pressed together, close enough that Tarryn imagined she could feel the heat, the burn of Sophie’s core. Impossible surely, they were both wearing jeans, but all the same… She turned her head and pressed her nose to Sophie’s hair. It smelled of something floral, exactly as she’d imagined her hair would smell.
Her stomach muscles tensed. When had she ever imagined the scent of Sophie’s hair? She hadn’t even thought of it until just then, but it felt right. Sophie threw her off balance, made her normal world wobble on its training wheels.
The song ended on a sigh, and for another couple of seconds, they remained in their loose embrace.
George cleared her throat. “You nailed that part.”
Tarryn moved back, suddenly wanting space between them. “Thanks. It’s probably the easiest bit.”
“For you, maybe.” George indicated her motorbike boots. “Try dancing in these.”
“How did we do?” Sophie’s voice held a tight, artificial gaiety. “Think we’ll be okay?”
“Not too bad,” Jason said. “Tarryn needs to relax a bit more during the ceremony, that’s all.”
“You try relaxing when you’re doing everything you always swore you wouldn’t—even if it’s pretend. It would be like you giving the keynote speech at a teetotallers’ convention.”
Jason laughed. “Not the greatest fit for a pub owner.”
Phyll consulted her notes. “Have you decided on the wedding hire place?”
“I like Uptown Funk,” Sophie said. “They’re bright and not too traditional. But Tarryn and I haven’t had a chance to talk it over yet.”
“Would they suit you?” Phyll swivelled to Tarryn.
She shrugged. “I haven’t looked, but they sound okay.”
“Can you both manage to go tomorrow?” Phyll asked. “You’ll have to go to Byron Bay.”
They both nodded.
“I’ll pick you up,” Sophie said. “Will nine work?”
Tarryn nodded. What else could she do?
Chapter 16
Allie gripped the steering wheelas she drove toward Tarryn’s place the next morning. Her eyes scratched with tiredness after her sleepless night. Her mind had been full of Tarryn: her low voice, her smooth skin, her dark eyes, and, most of all, the feel of her lips. She’d tossed restlessly in bed, then got up and made herself a mug of a herbal tea she’d found in the cupboard. It had tasted of grass and not much else and hadn’t helped her sleep, but it had been something to do.
The events of the day had unwound again in her head. She thought she’d done okay at the rehearsal. Standing in front of George, holding Tarryn’s hand. The dance. The kiss.The kiss. Allie set her fingers to her lips, reliving it. Tarryn had kissed her as if she meant it. And Allie had been there all the way, falling into Tarryn and her lips and the feel of her under her hands.
If anything, it had been Tarryn who was uncomfortable at the rehearsal. Was it just the whole wedding thing? Or was it Allie?
And that was the question, one she’d have to find an answer to when next she saw Tarryn.
Which was now. Or the now that started in five minutes. Allie swung the car into Tarryn’s potholed driveway and wiggled her fingers at the alpacas staring at her over the fence. Surely, on the drive to Byron she could find out what was bothering Tarryn and hopefully reassure her.
Tarryn must have heard the car, as she was waiting outside her shouse. She jumped into the passenger seat and set her bag on the back seat. “Hi.” A small smile.
Good. If Tarryn was smiling, things couldn’t be too bad.
“Hi yourself.” She tapped her fingers on the wheel. “I’m going to stop for coffee and a brekky wrap from Kirra as we head out. I rang through the order before I left—Kirra said you ate the same, so I got you one as well.”
Tarryn’s white teeth flashed. “Thanks. I’ve had a piece of toast, but a brekky wrap will be good.”
Allie pulled up outside Kirra’s Kafé. “They’re paid for. Would you mind collecting them?”
Tarryn was back in a minute and set the coffees in the cupholders as Allie pulled away. “I’ll wait until you’re on the main road before giving you the wrap.” She waved at the local policeman with a speed gun hiding behind a bush.
