Page 52 of The Player

His smile is slow and very sexy. “You’re at the top of the list, babe.”

I snort with laughter as he pounces on me. “That’s not as complimentary as it sounds. You’ve probably got grouting and sandpapering the fence on there too.”

He rolls his eyes. “Perhaps you should stop talking.”

“Your suggestion is my command.”

I draw him down to me amongst the sheets that smell of us, and the only sounds for the next half an hour are moans and heated whispers.

Later, I smile as we lie back, panting. “That is the way to start married life.”

“Hot and sweaty?” I raise my fist, and he bumps it with his own. “Boom.”

I hover at the kitchen window, looking out on the garden where the marquee is being erected. It’s a hive of activity out there, with banging, hammering, and occasional laughter drifting in through the window.

After the wedding, we’re having a party. Con’s old band is playing, and our favourite restaurant in the village is catering for more than a hundred guests. It’s still a marvel to me that we have a garden capable of housing all that. Two years ago, it was a wilderness, but once Con had proposed to me and we decided to hold the party here, he’d swung into action, hiring a company to come in and bring it into order. They’ve done a wonderful job and the lawn is now a stretch of lush green, with beds full of plants and shrubs that smell wonderful because Con knows my love of scent.

A familiar laugh draws my attention. Con is outside with the men because he’s incapable of not joining in with anything physical. He’s currently holding a flapping end of the canvas while laughing with the owner of the marquee company. I smile at him affectionally and feel warm all over. He’s going to be my husband. It’s hard to believe.

I turn my back to the window and look around our kitchen. I always knew this would be a lovely room, even when it was empty of everything other than a camping stove and a packing case and with holes in the walls. It was actually the first room that Con tackled when I said I’d move in with him because heknew how much I liked the kitchen in my old cottage. Now, it’s an airy room with stripped beams, a central island, and a huge oven.

The cupboards are a light oak that Con and George had built in his workshop. I step closer to the end cupboard and run my finger over the beautiful vine carved along the edge. Hidden amongst the leaves are our names encircling a heart. No one else notices it, and I love that it’s our little secret. It’s the first place my eye travels to whenever I come into the room.

The rest of the house is slowly coming together, but we’re taking our time and enjoying making it into a home for both of us. Con had delayed so long in finishing the house that I’d been amazed at how quickly he jumped into it with me. His reply had been that he felt ready now I was with him. I can’t say I’ve been of much practical use, but I’ve cheered him on so much I should have had my own pom-poms. I’d also offered lots of advice, which turned out to be wildly impractical, according to Con, but he’d still listened patiently.

I look at the photo of David that Con had set on the windowsill. He smiles serenely, his eyes twinkling with naughtiness, and I reach out and tap his face.

“Morning,” I say softly. “I’m getting married to Con today.” I shake my head. “I know wherever you are, you’re laughing your arse off, babe, but I like to think you’d be pleased too. You always did say that Con and I were like two peas in a pod. I love him so much,” I confide. “I promise you that I’ll make him happy, and you know he’ll do the same for me.”

I stare at him, forever young and handsome. “Wish you were here,” I add. “I know that eventually, we’d have been friends again, and the spot at Con’s side as best man would have been taken by you.” I smirk. “My two husbands. You’d have loved cementing our slightly scandalous reputation in the village. That would definitely have made you fucking smile.”

A breeze picks up, and for a wild second, I think I smell his cologne. I blink. Maybe it’s the lavender pots growing by the back door. I look at his photo. Or maybe it’s him. It’s a nice thought.

“I’ll raise a glass to you, babe,” I finish softly.

The doorbell rings, making me jump, and I head into the hall to answer it. When I swing the door open, Joan is there. She’s wearing a yellow dress with a hat perched jauntily on her head.

“You look lovely.” I look around warily. “Where’s that parrot?”

She rolls her eyes. “And a big hello to you too. George has got him. He’s bringing him to the service with him.”

“And is there a reason why Hank Marvin has got to attend my wedding?”

She gapes at me. “Frankie, he’s part of the family.”

“I have made some very odd choices in my life, but that’s got to be number one.”

She steps past me and heads towards the kitchen. “No, I think that was when you decided to sunbathe in the nude while the open gardens event was on.”

“Oh god, please don’t remind me. I do pay better attention to the entries in my diary now, but that doesn’t help the old couple who got a bit of an eyeful. I never knew the human voice could go that high until she screamed.”

She wanders into the kitchen. “I’ve called in at the hotel, and everything is ready.”

We’re having a civil ceremony at the hotel in the village. I swallow hard, feeling nerves suddenly flutter in my stomach like baby birds. “Oh shit. I’m getting married,” I whisper.

A smile tugs at her mouth. “Not the most romantic tone I’ve ever heard to go with those words.” She flicks the kettle on. “I’ll make some tea, and you can drown your anxiety in that.”

I collapse into a chair at the long oak table. It seats ten people, and we’d found it at a reclamation yard near Stow-on-the-Wold. Con had lovingly restored it, and now it gleams with a soft shine, and I catch the faint scent of the lavender beeswax he polishes the wood with. “Joan, what if I don’t make him happy? This is such a big deal. I need Con to never regret doing this.”

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