Page 39 of The Wedding Pact
‘Okay. How many people did we have? A hundred?’
‘If we did, then ninety-five of them would be your guests,’ said Flynn. They settled on keeping it smaller, around fifty people.
‘That’s probably enough, don’t you think?’ August said, stifling a giant yawn.
‘I think we have everything covered, at least for now.’ It was late. Flynn put down the pad of paper, so ready to call it a night. ‘Quick test; where did we honeymoon?’
With droopy eyelids, August smiled. ‘Edinburgh, and then the Outer Hebrides, and we got there by sleeper train from Cornwall. Did we have kids at our wedding?’
‘We did. Who proposed?’
‘I did. Actually, we both did. What was the name of the beach we got married on?’
That stumped him. ‘ … Waterloo Beach?’
‘Watergate Bay,’ she corrected.
He had one last question. ‘And what’s the grand masterplan?’
August stood up, did a cat-like stretch, and started off towards her room. ‘It’s waaaay too late to get into all the intricacies of that. But in a nutshell, I wasn’t entirely joking about the Tony thing. I’m going to be on the stage one day.’
And then she saw something that made her stop in her tracks, and Flynn in his.
Chapter 25
Flynn
‘Oh my God,’ August and Flynn said in unison.
August looked at her bed, all completed, all ready to be slept on except for one thing.
Flynn looked at his own bed, all comfortable and inviting and tempting him to call it a night and climb in, except for one thing.
The two of them turned at the doorways of their bedrooms and faced each other, wine-stained mouths agape.
‘I didn’t buy the mattress,’ August declared, crestfallen. She must have just completely forgotten to pick it up from the Ikea warehouse section. It was those bloody tealights that had distracted them.
Flynn was equally dumbstruck. ‘I don’t have any bedding.’ How could he forget bedding? It was literally Bed 101. It just hadn’t occurred to him in the slightest when they’d been making the shopping list.
One bed with a mattress, but no pillows, duvet, blankets. One bed with pillows and a duvet, but no mattress to put them on.
Suddenly they were both talking at once.
‘I’ll go back to the hotel,’ said Flynn.
‘No, no, I’ll go and stay the night at Bel’s,’ answered August, seemingly happy to give him her bedding for the night.
‘It’s getting really late, please. You stay here. You take the bed and all the toppings. I’ll kip on the sofa, or maybe the floor, it’s fine. I can use a sofa cushion for a pillow and … it’s not cold so I don’t really need a blanket.’
‘That sounds awful, and you wouldn’t even fit lying down on this sofa,’ August said, shaking her head. ‘Youtake all the bed and bedding and all that jazz, and I’ll sleep on the armchair under my dressing gown.’
It had been such a long day, and their bloodshot eyes betrayed how tired they both were, overwhelmed by the enormity of moving into a new home, and both a little woozy from the wine and excitement comedown. They breathed for a moment, silently, staring into each other’s eyes from across the living room, wondering if they should do what they both wanted to do.
It was August who took the plunge, raising her shoulders in defeat, and said in barely more than a whisper, ‘Shall we just both sleep in the bed?’
Flynn struggled with what to do. A big part of him wanted to just give her the bed and find somewhere else. It was the only right thing to do if he wanted her to feel completely at ease with him.
‘Stop battling with yourself, I know you aren’t taking advantage,’ August yawned and stepped into her room, coming out a moment later clasping her huge, warm-looking duvet in her arms. ‘It’s just one night, we’ll both stay fully pyjama-d, and no spooning.’ She stopped en route to his room. ‘Are you okay with this? Not just because of this chivalrous, Mr Darcy thing you’re doing, but for you? Am I making you uncomfortable?’
