The car slammed to a halt outside the gates to Pip’s fiancé’s family home, stopping her from doing anything stupid. ‘You sure you want to do this?’ he asked as she reached for the door handle.
She forced a smile. ‘Nope, but we’re going to anyway.’
‘That’s my girl.’
CHAPTER FOUR
HIS GIRL.
Well, it was true enough for the next few hours, Jannes supposed, walking through the grounds with Lara’s hand in his. He’d half expected that they’d be hidden away in a corner, being unobtrusive, avoiding notice. He wasn’t sure why he would think that when three years of friendship with Lara had yet to produce a problem that she didn’t think was best tackled head-on with the volume turned up. She marched straight to her grandmother and kissed her dryly on the cheek before introducing him.
‘Elaine, this is my boyfriend, Jannes.’
Warm hands clasped his as a kiss was pressed to his cheek.
‘I was just saying that it was about time you settled down,’ Lara’s grandmother said. ‘Now you two, come and sit by me and fill me in on your news.’
‘Ah—’ Jannes said.
At the same time Lara replied, ‘We’re just going to grab a drink before Pip arrives. But we’ll definitely catch up with you later.’
And then he was kissed by a series of aunts and cousins and assorted other strangers before being pushed into a chair near to the front of the assembled rows in the largest marquee and the chatter dropped to a hushed whisper.
‘You doing okay?’ he asked.
She gave him a tight smile, and then Pip arrived, floating down the aisle in a powder-puff-pink dress. But Jannes’s eyes snapped back to Pip’s fiancé as he watched her, dumbstruck, grinning dopily. His expression—as if he couldn’t believe his luck—didn’t change the whole time they were exchanging their vows. It was a good look on him, Jannes decided, slightly envious of the satisfied glow that emanated from the happy couple.
He risked a glance across at Lara, who was watching the proceedings with a fixed smile in place. He linked her fingers with his, trying not to notice how natural that had started to feel. They had done it only a few times since that first time in the park, but it just felt...right. This was why they had been so careful before—because they had both known that the attraction was there, because they both knew that this could be something more if they wanted it to be. And because he knew how much he didn’t want that to happen. He didn’t want to get closer to Lara, only to be afraid that she would leave him. He didn’t want to hurt her, pulling away because of that fear. Being just friends was safer for both of them.
It was easy to see now that they had breached the buffer that had always been between them. How they had always been careful to avoid the accidental touches that sent sparks flying between them. Because now they had crossed that divide and seen—felt—what things were like on the other side, it was hard to remember how it had felt to not know. Harder to think about how they were meant to get back to a place where they were ignorant of this. And when he thought about that kiss...
Well, mostly, he just didn’t think about that kiss, because, well, when he started it was too hard to stop. He’d have a flashback while he was waiting for pasta to cook and find himself half an hour later, staring at a glutinous mass of overcooked starch and wonder how he could lose time thinking about a simple kiss. A kiss that wasn’t even supposed to be the real thing. But had nonetheless shaken him to his bones in a way that no other kiss seemed to have ever managed.
Speaking of kisses, the happy couple were now locking lips while somehow simultaneously giggling, and then passing back along the aisle, and he realised he’d missed the last ten minutes and the ceremony was over.
Lara let out a long breath that made him wonder when she’d last inhaled, and he reached an arm around her shoulder in a way that he had meant to be friendly. But he hadn’t been counting on
the effect of the bare skin of his forearm—he’d rolled his sleeves up in the sweltering garden outside, and Lara had taken her jacket off—against the warm skin of Lara’s shoulders. Her jumpsuit had a complicated criss-cross of straps spanning her shoulder blades, revealing golden skin down to the small of her back. Which had never really been a part of the human body that had interested him before, but that he was finding hard to resist. Lara sat stiffly beside him, not leaning into him, and that should have been fine. This whole day was about Lara and if what she needed was this inch of clear space between his ribs and hers, then that was fine. That was what they were doing. It was completely out of order for him to be disappointed that she had passed up the opportunity to lean into him, just because he was curious about how good that might feel.
This wasn’t about feeling. It was about appearances. And if an arm around her shoulder was all the situation required then that was all they would do.
Lara gave herself a little shake and turned to him with a slightly more natural smile on her face.
‘Bar?’ she asked.
‘Bar,’ Jannes agreed, keeping his arm around her shoulders as they walked towards one of the smaller marquees—just for the sake of authenticity, of course.
‘Just so I know,’ Jannes asked, as she ordered a beer for him and a bottle of wine for herself, ‘is the drinking going to be in any way in moderation? No judgement either way.’
‘Absolutely not,’ Lara said, pouring herself a large glass and tucking the bottle under her arm as they went to find a seat outside. ‘I’m counting on you to make sure I get home later without making too much of a tit of myself.’
‘Babysitting duty. Got it.’
She frowned at that. ‘Less babysitter. More...wingman.’
‘Isn’t a wingman meant to help you get laid?’ he asked. ‘That might undermine our story a little.’
She waved his concern away with a hand. ‘You just have to help me find you, then. You’re my hook-up.’