Page 100 of Someone to Love Tracy Corbett

‘And now I want steak.’ He tried for another charming smile. ‘Forgive me, Connie.’ When he tried to kiss her properly, she instinctively jerked away, which wasn’t the reaction she’d expected. She’d wanted him to kiss her for weeks, and now it seemed she wasn’t so keen. Why was that? But deep down inside she had a feeling she already knew.

Before she could explore her feelings, Tiffany appeared at the top of the stairs, looking all curvy and seductive in a clingy dress and stilettos. The woman’s affronted expression was accompanied by a thunderous glare. ‘Get your thieving hands off my man!’

Kenneth dropped Connie’s hands and jumped away, trying to look innocent.

Lily-livered wimp.

Tiffany jabbed a long red nail at Connie. ‘You’re pathetic, you know that? You think you can shake that flabby arse of yours and he’ll come running back?’

Flabby arse? How dare she!

‘Well, over my dead body.’

‘Fine, if you insist.’ Connie had waited a long time for this. She adopted her boxing stance, squaring up to the woman. It wasn’t like she’d started it – she was just defending herself.

Tiffany’s alarmed expression at being confronted soon switched to outrage and she launched herself at Connie, arms flapping, screaming abuse. ‘Why you…’

Tempting as it was to knock her flat on her own ‘flabby’ arse, Connie used her boxing training to duck once… twice… It was rather satisfying to see her nemesis flailing about like a drunken Bambi on ice, hitting nothing but air, and getting increasingly irate.

Kenneth stood at a safe distance, like the feeble coward he was, no doubt enjoying having his ego inflated by two women brawling over him.

After several failed attempts to down her opponent, Tiffany eventually ran out of steam and toppled off her stilettos.

Connie could have easily let the woman hit the floor with a gigantic thud, but instead she did the mature thing and caught her, receiving a face-full of hair extensions for her efforts.

As she spat lacquered hair from her mouth and disentangled herself, she inhaled a waft of Tiffany’s strong perfume… musky almond with a hint of jasmine.

The world slowed. It took a moment for her brain to process the information, but when it did, she lowered Tiffany to the carpet, and then turned to face her ex-husband. ‘You bought me the same perfume as your girlfriend’s?’

He had the good grace to look sprung.

Chapter Nineteen

Sunday, 9thJune – the day of the wedding

Matt blinked up at the bright sunlight flooding the car park and breathed a sigh of relief. No one wanted a soggy wedding day. The sky was a pale blue, the wind had disappeared and the rain had dried up, so the Hardy family had been able to congregate outside the Smugglers Bar, at the side of the hotel, for their formal photos ahead of the wedding ceremony in the afternoon. But however sunny and bright the weather was outside, there was still a storm raging of a different kind – namely, the unexpected arrival of his dad yesterday. Like they’d needed any further drama.

‘Can we have the two groomsmen either side of the groom, please,’ shouted the photographer, who was rapidly losing patience. She’d been trying unsuccessfully to capture shots all morning, and so far she’d been thwarted at every turn.

‘Have you told him to bugger off yet?’ Leah looked like a cast member from theKingsmanfilms, in her fitted tuxedo and polished brogue shoes. Her hair was scraped into a tight ponytail, which bobbed about as she subjected their father to evil stares across the car park. Whereas his sister normally looked ‘cute’, today she looked primed for a pub brawl involving poisoned umbrellas and spiked bowler hats.

Matt sucked in his breath and rebuttoned his tuxedo jacket, which had popped open again. He was already hot, and it was only ten a.m. ‘You know I haven’t.’

Leah gave him one of her looks. ‘He’s not wanted here. Look at our poor mother, she’s traumatised.’

Matt glanced over to where their mother was standing, with a glazed look on her drawn face. It was true. Despite her smart lilac outfit, and having her hair and make-up professionally done, she still looked like a woman who expected the world to implode at any moment.

In contrast, their dad was breezing about like the Godfather, bulging from the ill-fitting suit they’d managed to hire last minute from a shop in Launceston, and currently smoking a cigar.

It had taken all of Matt’s energies to keep his dad away from the formal meal last night, taking him into town for a beer and a curry on the pretence of wanting a catch-up. His real goal had been to persuade his dad to rethink attending the wedding, but when it became clear that Pete Hardy wasn’t to be dissuaded, Matt had accepted defeat, returned to the hotel and convinced his slightly drunk father to go bed, so as not to cause any further scandal.

This hadn’t stopped his half-brother Chris from banging on Matt’s bedroom door last night, accusing him of trying to sabotage his son’s wedding. Which was a bit rich, in Matt’s opinion, considering that Chris wasn’t happy about the wedding in the first place. His half-brother wasn’t above adopting double standards, it seemed.

‘You were supposed to make him leave,’ Leah said, still growling at him.

Matt wasn’t sure how he was the bad guy in all this, but that seemed par for the course these days. He wasn’t enjoying the situation any more than anyone else.

‘Can you look at the camera, please?’ the photographer yelled.

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