Page 43 of From Best Friend to Bride
He pressed his lips together and bobbed his head, straightening up. “Well, I trust the two of you know what you’re doing.”
“Not a fucking clue, mate.”
“Yeah, it was only a speck of trust.” He winked and pulled a glass from the back shelf, then poured me a glass of coke. “Idiots, the pair of ya. There’s no coming back from it once you get married, do you know that?”
I took the drink from him and shrugged. “Too late for that now. We can’t go back on our words—not with how happy Nana is.”
“Yeah, that’ll do it.” Si paused. “And that girl loves her grandma. Never seen the likes of it. She’d take the cancer for her if she could, wouldn’t she?”
I nodded slowly, then sighed. “Well, if my choice is marrying my best friend or losing her, I suppose marrying her isn’t all that bad.”
A slow smile crept across his face. “Come back in six months, and I’ll remind you of those words.”
“I’m sure you will.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “No, one way or another, it’ll all work out, I’m sure.”
“Aye,” he said gruffly. “Just a matter of whether it’s for the best or the worst, ain’t it?”
10
DELILAH
“Icannot believe you’re actually here.”
Fred looked up from his phone and raised his eyebrows. “I told you I’d pick you up from work, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but the last time you said that, you fell asleep with your phone on silent and I had to walk home.”
He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. “If I did that now, Nana would castrate me.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Ooh, is this your boyfriend act? Very well done, my lord.”
He yanked open the passenger door, looking at me flatly. “Get in the car, or I’ll take the castration.”
Oh, he was grumpy.
Of course, he was. He was one of those weird morning people—up with the birds, exercised and dressed by eight a.m., ready and raring to go.
One a.m. was his prime sleep time, and here he was, picking me up.
I sighed and got in the car. All right, fine. I wouldn’t be too much of a brat to him tonight. I was grateful, after all. He’d dealt with the issues Nana had caused with my car, and he was doing me a huge favour by getting me right now.
I was exhausted.
Friday nights were always too busy, and there’d been live music tonight, so it was extra chaotic.
My feet hurt, there was a blister on my big toe, and I had a sticky patch of an unidentified origin on the back of my left upper arm.
Why the hell was I still working in a pub?
“You want me to take you home and get you tomorrow?” Fred asked gruffly, stifling a yawn.
“No. I’ll just stay at yours.”
He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening.
I paused when I caught the slight clench of his jaw. “Is that not all right?”
He didn’t answer.
