Читать книгу Mother of the Bride - Kate Lawson - Страница 9

‘I know that I promised not to turn into Bridezilla,’ said Jess. ‘But there are things we ought to talk about, things I need to ask you, and want your opinion on. We haven’t got that long to sort everything out – so what sort of wedding do you think we should have?’ She paused. ‘Max, you are listening, aren’t you?’

The two of them were curled up under the duvet in bed in the little cottage with its view out over Watchet Harbour. Outside it was raining hard, but Jess couldn’t have cared less about the weather. She had barely had time to catch her breath since Max had gone down on one knee and now the full weight of what he had asked her was beginning to sink in.

If Jess could have planned exactly how she wanted to be proposed to she would have been hard-pressed to top Max’s efforts. It was breathtakingly romantic and so unexpected that, despite it being a horrible cliché, she had to keep from pinching herself to check that she wasn’t dreaming.

At first Jess had thought Max was kneeling down to tie his shoelace and then just when she was going to ask him if he was all right he had caught hold of her hand. And even then Jess hadn’t guessed, she just thought he might need a hand up because it was cold and they had walked for miles with her dog, Bassa. Then Max had said, ‘Jess, I want to ask you something.’

And before she could think what it might be, Max had asked her to marry him.

Although replaying the scene in her head – and Jess had replayed it many times since Max had said it – Jess wasn’t sure exactly whether Max had asked her so much as told her. She seemed to remember that what he had actually said was, ‘Jess, I think that we should get married.’ Because it didn’t seem as if there had been any question that she could answer yes or no to. But it didn’t matter, because it had all been so magical and so very special and incredibly romantic and then Max had said, ‘I was thinking December – maybe Christmas, certainly before the New Year. What do you say?’

And although Jess hadn’t said anything to Molly, it had been a surprise. In fact it was so unexpected that for a few moments Jess thought she must have misheard him.

All the time they’d been going out together Max had said things about how much he liked his own space, and how he wasn’t really good with girlfriends, like they were some kind of pet, and how, although he really enjoyed being with her, he was a happy bachelor – which, although they seemed to get on fairly well and however smitten Jess was, hadn’t given her much hope that the relationship was going anywhere.

And when on girly nights out Jess had expressed her concerns, her friends – who hadn’t met Max yet because he was usually busy midweek – had said that maybe he was just playing with her, that whole protesting too much so he wouldn’t get hurt when she finished with him kind of thing.

‘He’s got that little-boy-lost look. You can just tell he’s been really hurt,’ Jess had said to them. ‘And he’s gorgeous and is so mature – he makes me feel all fragile and feminine. And he is such a gentleman – a proper grown-up.’

One of other girls from her office had giggled. ‘God, he sounds perfect, shame I was away when he came in. I’d hang on in there, sweetie.’ And so Jess had.

Jess just hadn’t thought Max was that serious, even if when they first started going out together he’d done things like whisk her away to Paris on Eurostar for the weekend, and when she had been feeling a bit down had a dozen red roses delivered to the design office where she worked. But then he’d come over all Mr Darcy and be preoccupied and prickly, which sometimes Jess saw as a challenge and other times was just bloody annoying. Then again no one was perfect and he always apologised. When he did and looked at her with those big brown eyes, she could feel herself melting.

Recently it had all slowed down a bit and they’d both been busy and tired and finding it hard to make time for each other. In fact until he’d gone down on one knee Jess had begun to wonder if maybe they had already peaked and whether there was any future in the relationship at all. Well, apparently there was. Jess grinned. Not just a future but a happy ever after.

She turned over and snuggled up against him. ‘Are you awake?’ she whispered.

They had been drinking champagne and talking and leaving garbled messages on answer machines the length and breath of the known world, and now more sober and very slightly hung over, it was all beginning to sink in.

Jess ran her fingers down his arm. She had always imagined eventually marrying someone like Max – the classic older man, someone urbane, mature, slightly distant, calm, generous, someone who would take care of her, look after her. Someone who was already established. If she had had a list Max would tick almost all the boxes. She suppressed another giggle.

Up until now she hadn’t even been sure that Max loved her. I mean how mad was that? She knew that Max liked her but he had never mentioned the ‘L’ word, not at all, not once. Not ever. And now they were getting married. The grin was back. Married.

Mrs Jessica Peters – it had such a nice ring to it. Mrs Jessica Peters – she rolled the words around inside her head. She was going to get married. And it would be fine, just fine. After all Max was sensible and he was kind and exactly what she needed. Someone strong and understanding – an old-fashioned man, someone who had seen a bit of life, someone who knew what he was doing.

As she lay there Jess made an effort to quell any little flurries of doubt that surfaced. After all, everyone was nervous about getting married. It was only natural, marriage was a big thing and okay, maybe she had just got a little bit swept along by the moment, but who wouldn’t?

Obviously Max hadn’t got any doubts about it or he wouldn’t have asked, or maybe he could see something in her that she couldn’t? The idea made her smile. It was quite exciting to think that he could see her hidden depths.

Down on the beach, when Max had asked – or told – her, there had been this funny, awkward silence and then he’d said, ‘So what do you say then?’

It was all Jess could do to stop herself from laughing because it sounded ridiculous that anyone wanted to marry her. Then, without really stopping to think about it, she’d said, ‘Yes, please.’ Which, on reflection, made it sound as if he had just offered her an ice cream or something.

In amongst all her thoughts and feelings there was a terrible sense of being overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the plans that needed making to make a wedding happen. They had sixteen weeks tops to get it all together; she’d worked it out in the back of her diary. The biggest thing Jess had organised up until now was a table for fifteen at the local curry house. At the same time she had a funny sense of joy and excitement and anticipation. There was part of her that was ready to settle down. ‘There is so much to get organised, you will help, won’t you?’

Max yawned and stretched. ‘What did you say?’

‘Plans – we’ve got to make plans. And lists. You will help, won’t you?’

He blinked and then rubbed his eyes and reached out to brush the hair back off Jess’s face. ‘You worry too much,’ he said.

‘And I was thinking – does this mean I’m officially moving in?’

He grinned. ‘Well, I certainly hope so.’

‘I meant when we get back. After all it would make life a lot easier and my lease is up.’

‘I’d kind of assumed we’d wait until after the wedding,’ Max said after a few seconds. ‘I know it’s a pain in the arse but would you mind waiting? It’s not long and I’d really like to get the house sorted out. Decorated.’

‘We could do that together. I’m a dab hand with a paint roller. I wouldn’t mind helping.’

‘I know you wouldn’t, eager beaver,’ said Max. ‘But I’m up to my eyes with work at the moment. I’d been thinking I’d get someone in to do it, and it’ll be a lot easier if the house is empty. I need to clear my office out and move the servers first…’ He paused. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Well, no,’ Jess said with a shrug, masking her disappointment. ‘No, not at all, it’s fine.’

He laughed and poked her. ‘No, it’s not. You’re annoyed.’

‘Well, I just thought…’ she began, but he was ahead of her.

‘It won’t be for much longer. If I were you I’d enjoy it. In another few years you’ll probably be sick of the sight of me.’ Max smiled and then leaned in to kiss her. ‘I know my place isn’t all that huge but it’ll do us to start off with and then maybe later we could buy somewhere bigger – you happy with that?’

He kissed her again, more tenderly this time, and as she pulled away, and not for the first time, Jess admired the view. There was no doubt about it: Max Peters was a catch.

They’d met when he’d been brought in to upgrade the computers where she worked. He wasn’t the normal engineer but had been doing a favour for a friend and as he came in, their eyes met and Jess had had one of those totally heartstopping moments of lust. He was gorgeous and knew it.

Debbie, who sat at the desk opposite, and was about to go on maternity leave, had purred and then whispered, ‘Wipe the drool off your chin, sweetie.’ And then five minutes later Max had walked over to her desk and before she knew what had hit her he had asked Jess out for dinner and she had said yes. Just like that.

‘Way, way too smooth,’ Debbie had said, swigging Gaviscon like it was vodka, not quite able to hide the appreciation in her voice as Max went off to sort out one of the other machines.

And now here she was six months later, getting married to him. Jess drank him in with her eyes; she liked those nicely defined muscles in Max’s arms, those broad shoulders and the way his hair – thick and almost black, and shot through here and there with grey – curled into the nape of his strong muscular neck. He swam and worked out two or three times a week and there was something about those big brown eyes of his that suggested he had been hurt, but with a lot of love the right woman could heal him – and apparently it turned out she was that woman.

Jess grinned lazily. Maybe happy ever after wasn’t just a fairy story after all.

By some stroke of genetic good fortune his skin turned the colour of golden syrup at the merest glimpse of sunshine, so that as she moved closer and slid into the crook of his arm, Jess was aware of how very pale and delicate and feminine she looked next to his strong, beautiful golden body. It gave her a little ripple of pleasure. No two ways about it, Max Peters made her mouth water and she was going to marry him and be Mrs Peters. As he pulled her closer all her doubts began to ebb away. She was going to marry Max Peters and live happily ever after and the very thought of it made her smile.

‘So, about these plans and lists,’ she murmured.

‘Plans and lists?’ he teased.

Jess nodded. ‘Uh-huh. Lots of them.’

‘That’s what the bride’s mother’s for,’ Max said, stretching again. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘I’m being serious,’ Jess said.

‘And so was I – I’m absolutely famished.’

‘About the wedding.’

‘Oh, don’t look so worried; mothers, they love it, all that arranging, the frocks, the flowers, the caterers.’

‘I’m not sure my mum’s like that,’ said Jess. ‘She’s really busy.’

Max laughed. ‘They’re all like that once you scratch the surface. You okay?’

Jess nodded. ‘Yes, I’m fine. I’m tired, a bit hung over.’ She looked at Max’s face, trying to work out what he was thinking. ‘You’re frowning? You’re not cross I asked you to help, are you? I am really excited.’

He smiled. ‘I’m not cross, baby. I’m just not great at all that kind of thing. Actually, I’m rubbish, if you want the truth. And I’m incredibly busy at the moment.’

Jess wrinkled up her nose. ‘What about when you got married first time around, didn’t you help with the arrangements then?’

‘That was a long while ago now,’ Max said, pulling himself up onto one elbow. ‘Lucy’s mother organised it all. We got married in the chapel on their family estate. All I did was turn up. If I remember correctly she even sorted out the morning suits for me and the best man. Let’s not talk about that. What do you fancy to eat? We could take a drive along the coast if you like or nip into town. Pick up something and cook it here.’

Jess made the effort to smile.

Lucy. The Honourable Lucy Troughton-Warbridge-Hays, Max’s first wife, the woman who had left Max with that whipped-puppy look. The wife who he had married when they were both too young and who he had loved with all his heart. The wife whose photograph still hung in his office even after all these years.

When Jess had pointed it out Max had blushed furiously and taken it down. ‘Sorry – you know I didn’t even notice it was there,’ he’d said, sliding it into a drawer. Lucy Troughton-Warbridge-Hays, the wife who had run off with his best friend and best man Stephen, who between them had broken his heart and ensured that Max Peters had been a career bachelor – up until now. Jess couldn’t help wonder what it was that had changed his mind. Was it that finally at forty he thought it was time that he settled down? Time to put down roots and have a family? Did he see Jess as someone special, the kind of woman he could trust and wanted to spend the rest of his life with? Surely the answer had to be yes? The thought made her feel warm and fluttery inside.

Jess looked up into his big dark eyes. ‘Do you love me, Max?’

He smiled and kissed the end of her nose. ‘What do you think?’

‘And you will help with the wedding, won’t you?’

‘Of course I will,’ Max said, and rolled back the duvet. ‘But I’ve already told you that I’m not great at that kind of stuff.’ He sounded offhand and casual, but Jess needed him to be keen, eager, and enthusiastic – and told him so.

Max, feet on the floor now, sighed. ‘I am, Jess, sweetheart, and I trust your judgement. Absolutely. After all, you’ve agreed to be my wife, haven’t you? Just shows you’ve got great judgement and the most fantastic taste.’

Jess laughed and threw a pillow at him.

And then Max got out of bed and pulled on a robe. ‘Besides,’ he said, ‘it’s no big deal.’

Jess was about to protest when Max leaned over and held a finger to her lips and then, leaning closer still, kissed her briefly. ‘Poor choice of words. What I meant was, it will all get sorted out. You have to understand I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment, with the McKeeley project and Jacobson going live in the spring as well as all the usual crap. It’s going to be a busy few months.’

Jess stared at him, wondering whether it was meant as a joke. ‘Well, if you’re that busy maybe we ought to wait – I mean, I don’t mind waiting.’

‘Well, I do,’ said Max emphatically. ‘In my line of work you can never guarantee what the schedule is going to be. We’ve just got to seize the moment.’ Laughing, he made a tickling, nipping lunge at her which made Jess shriek and giggle, then stood over her, hands flat on the mattress, pinning her down. It was a dominant, manly, sexy gesture that made her skin tingle all over.

‘If you wanted to seize the moment maybe we should just slip away – do something romantic, drive to Scotland, get married at Gretna. I’m sure Mum and Dad would understand, ’ said Jess. ‘Just the two of us. Drag two people in off the street to be our witnesses.’

Max’s expression softened into something that made Jess’s heart melt. ‘But I don’t want us to slip away, Jess – I want everyone to see us. I want us to have the most wonderful, perfect day with all our family and friends. I want everyone to see how beautiful you are, to say, “Wow, don’t they make the most stunning couple”. I want it to be just perfect. And it will be.’

‘Oh, Max.’ Jess felt her eyes filling with tears.

‘And I’m sure your mum wouldn’t want us running off and getting hitched without any fuss,’ Max said, pushing himself back upright. ‘I’ll let the dog out and then I thought as we were up we might as well drive out to Exmoor – take Bassa for a bit of a hike and then see if we can find a nice pub somewhere. Unless you want to cook?’

‘It’s still raining,’ protested Jess.

Max laughed. ‘You won’t melt. Come on, the fresh air will do us both good. We ought to make the most of it while we’re down here. I don’t know when I’ll be able to take any more time off before the wedding.’

Wordlessly Jess got out of bed and pulled on her jeans. Actually Max was probably right, the fresh air would help clear her head. When she checked her phone there was a message from Molly. She tried to ring back but Molly had her phone on voicemail.

‘Hi, Mum. I’ve got loads to tell you and talk about, but the signal down here isn’t great. How about we come round on Saturday and we can catch up then? Love you.’ And then, still smiling, Jess hung up. She hurried downstairs, excitement drowning out the little niggling worries she had about Max.