‘Where are you from?’ I ask.
‘Texas,’ he replies. ‘My family had a ranch in Weatherford, near Fort Worth. That’s where my mom was from. My dad’s a London boy. He still lives round these parts.’
‘Oh, so you want to move back to be closer to your dad?’ I reply.
‘That’s right,’ he says. ‘Even if it means losing the hat.’
The hat finishes off his perfect storybook cowboy silhouette – broad shoulders, boots, that calm swagger – like he’s wandered off a spicy romance cover and he’s looking for a main character to ravish. Sadly, I’ve never had main character energy.
You know, it’s funny, I remember joking to JJ that I wanted a leading man – I think I even said a cowboy. And here one is.
‘You should keep the hat, it suits you,’ I reply. ‘Makes you look like a real cowboy.’
He laughs. ‘Always thought of myself as a rancher, not a cowboy, but you can call me that if you like,’ he says.
‘Thanks,’ I say with a laugh. ‘It’s the romcom writer in me.’
‘You’re welcome, ma’am,’ he replies.
‘Ma’am,’ I say back to him. ‘You really are the real deal.’
He laughs. Then we fall silent for a few seconds. It’s a comfortable silence, but we’ve got an uncomfortable conversation to have.
‘Okay,’ I say, because if I don’t start talking I’ll start thinking, and if I start thinking I might throw myself into another fountain just to avoid having to go through with this.
Jake glances at me.
‘Okay.’
I clear my throat.
‘So, I want to start by saying that I’m not crazy. Yes, I fell into the fountain, and yes, I was wearing an engagement ring, but I’m actually the best man, for my best friend Andy, who is getting married here,’ I explain. ‘And I was being a silly girlie, wanting to try the ring on.’
‘Best man,’ he replies with a smile.
‘I pushed for the title best woman, but his fiancée vetoed that,’ I reply.
‘Well, I didn’t think you were crazy, and I was happy to be there to help. And I’m happy to scratch your back – I appreciate you scratching mine. Shall we talk terms?’
God. Terms. Suddenly it feels so scary and real and kind of stupid. I can’t believe I’ve let JJ talk me into this.
We reach a quiet stretch of orchard path, hidden by perfectly clipped hedges. The main house is still visible in the distance but we’re tucked away enough that it feels private. It’s the perfect place for a conspiratorial chat, like we’re inGame of Thronesor something.
‘Okay,’ I say, attempting business. ‘This is stupid.’
Jake nods.
‘Yup.’
‘And it might ruin my life – or yours,’ I add.
‘Possibly.’
‘Then why are you so calm?’ I demand.
Jake shrugs.
‘I’ve been bucked off a horse at full speed.’
