Page 30 of Finding Love at Roseford Blooms
‘He’s no friend of mine,’ Simon said bleakly. He reached out a hand and touched her forearm. ‘I hope he won’t be here long.’
Lizzie smiled quickly at him. ‘See you in a bit.’
As Lizzie left to get smartened up for the wedding, Simon made it his mission to get Jago McAvoy out of Roseford as soon as he could.
26
Hours after the formalities of the wedding were over, Lizzie still had to pinch herself when she looked around the marquee and saw so many famous, and incredibly glamorous faces. As if having a bride like Montana de Santo wasn’t enough, Montana’s close friends were a selection of the cream of the Hollywood crop, as well as those who seemed, refreshingly, rather more ordinary. The wedding photos would be aWho’s Whoof twenty-first-century movie making. Montana and Serena were incandescent with joy, and the two brides had barely left each other’s side for a moment. And as the day had gone on, the ‘non-showbiz’ guests and friends had mingled with the more famous ones, and the atmosphere had been everything they could have wished for.
Lizzie could see some people chatting, tired but happy after a long day of celebration. On the dance floor off to her right, in front of the DJ, who was doing a sterling job of encouraging a few last dances out of people, was Finn Sanderson. He was dancing in a kind of cute trio with both Lucy and her ten-year old-daughter, Megan, who was, from the look on her face, torn between loving every minute of the situation and thinking it was all a bit lame. Lizzie could remember those sensations well, herself. Finn, tailcoat long since discarded and white shirt untucked, looked every inch the off-duty movie star. That image was further compounded as the music changed to a slower number, and Megan scuttled off to fill up on more wedding cupcakes. Lucy, a look of absolute contentment and love on her face, settled into Finn’s arms, and, locked in each other’s embrace, they swayed gently to the music.
Lizzie regarded them with a mixture of delight and envy. It had been so long since she’d danced that way with someone. She and Paul had been to their fair share of friends’ weddings, of course, but he’d never been a dancer, and had preferred to drink and chat. Finn and Lucy’s love story was everything she’d ever secretly wanted, and seeing their obvious happiness, and that of the newly-weds Montana and Serena, who’d just stepped onto the dance floor and were dancing together, the absolute picture of love and joy, Lizzie’s sense of envy grew stronger.
‘May I have this dance?’ A voice broke into her ruminations. Glancing up, tearing her gaze away from the couples on the dance floor, Lizzie saw Simon smiling down at her.
‘I don’t really dance,’ she said, a note of defensiveness in her voice.
‘Well,’ Simon replied, ‘neither do I, but it appears to be the expected thing to do at a wedding reception, and I’m rather fed up of doing the Macarena by myself.’
Simon, too, had shed his suit jacket and his formal tie was loosened, the top button of his crisp white shirt undone. He looked gorgeous, sexy and, Lizzie felt with a sudden stab of longing, infinitely desirable. A lock of fair hair had fallen over his forehead, giving him the look of an older, blonder Rupert Brooke, and, just for the moment, Lizzie wanted to believe in the fairy tale.
‘Don’t leave me hanging, Elizabeth Warner,’ Simon said. ‘Or the song’ll be over by the time we hit the floor.’
Smiling, Lizzie stood up. ‘Well, since you put it that way…’ They made their way over to the dance floor, where the slow song was now in full flow. Simon asked a tacit question with his eyes, Lizzie nodded, and in moments she’d slid into his arms. As she drew closer to him, she felt the heat from his body, and the scent of his woody, spiced cologne. She was tense in his arms, not just because her left arm felt vulnerable, only recently out of the sling.
‘Try and relax if you can, Lizzie,’ Simon whispered into her ear, the gentleness of his tone making her choke back a nervous laugh. ‘I promise I won’t step on your toes.’
‘Wouldn’t matter if you did,’ Lizzie replied softly. ‘I changed into trainers hours ago.’
‘I thought you seemed shorter,’ Simon murmured. ‘I wish I’d done the same.’
The warmth and gentleness in his tone was helping Lizzie to relax, and as she moved slightly closer to him, she didn’t resist the urge to rest her head on his shoulder. Turning her gaze to the side, she smiled at Lucy, who was looking dreamily across, lost in the moment. As their eyes locked, though, Lucy raised a curious eyebrow. Lizzie couldn’t help a grin in return.
The DJ, clearly sensing the mood of the dancers, rather than pick up the pace with a more upbeat song, followed the dying embers of the slow dance with another mellow tune, and Lizzie tightened her arms around Simon, hopefully giving him the signal that she was more than happy to stay where she was for another few minutes.
‘I’m so glad you were with me today,’ Simon murmured into her ear. ‘Thank you for being my plus one.’
‘My pleasure,’ Lizzie replied softly. She lifted her head from his shoulder and met his gaze, which looked tender and open in the soft light from the twinkling fairy lights hanging across the marquee. ‘I enjoyed it.’
‘You did brilliantly, too,’ Lizzie said. There was a pause as they regarded each other. Lizzie saw Simon’s eyes widening as she drew closer to him, and her lips parted in delicious anticipation. Their first kiss, born out of heightened emotions and disclosures, had been the anchor she’d needed in her emotional storm. This next one, she hoped, would be sweeter, filled with promises of things to come. She stretched up on tiptoes and brought her mouth to Simon’s. ‘Would it be too forward of me to say I want to spend the night with you?’ she murmured between increasingly passionate kisses.
For a long, blissful moment, Simon relaxed into her arms but, a few seconds later, he disentangled himself gently from her, putting a little space between them. When he opened his eyes, she saw an apology there.
‘What’s wrong?’ she said softly. ‘Did I overstep the mark?’
Simon shook his head. ‘It’s not you,’ he said quietly.
Lizzie laughed, a trace of bitterness in her tone. ‘Did you honestly just say that?’
‘I’m sorry, Lizzie.’ Simon shook his head. ‘Look. Can we go somewhere and talk?’
Lizzie sighed. ‘It’s been a very long day. I think I’ll just go home.’ The sting of rejection from Simon pulling so summarily away from her was the last thing she needed at the moment. Had she misread the signs so badly? Had she taken a risk in asking to spend the night with him, when he clearly didn’t want that?
‘No, Lizzie, please don’t go. That’s not what I want.’
‘You could have fooled me,’ Lizzie shot back. She felt the humiliation washing over her. She should have just kept quiet. Now she had to deal with the fact that Simon had pulled back from her, and she knew she’d be replaying that moment in her head until the small hours.
‘Let me walk you,’ Simon persisted. ‘It’s really uneven out there.’
