I do, p.15
I Do, page 15
The events of the day had unwound again in her head. She thought she’d done okay at the rehearsal. Standing in front of George, holding Tarryn’s hand. The dance. The kiss. The kiss. Allie set her fingers to her lips, reliving it. Tarryn had kissed her as if she meant it. And Allie had been there all the way, falling into Tarryn and her lips and the feel of her under her hands.
If anything, it had been Tarryn who was uncomfortable at the rehearsal. Was it just the whole wedding thing? Or was it Allie?
And that was the question, one she’d have to find an answer to when next she saw Tarryn.
Which was now. Or the now that started in five minutes. Allie swung the car into Tarryn’s potholed driveway and wiggled her fingers at the alpacas staring at her over the fence. Surely, on the drive to Byron she could find out what was bothering Tarryn and hopefully reassure her.
Tarryn must have heard the car, as she was waiting outside her shouse. She jumped into the passenger seat and set her bag on the back seat. “Hi.” A small smile.
Good. If Tarryn was smiling, things couldn’t be too bad.
“Hi yourself.” She tapped her fingers on the wheel. “I’m going to stop for coffee and a brekky wrap from Kirra as we head out. I rang through the order before I left—Kirra said you ate the same, so I got you one as well.”
Tarryn’s white teeth flashed. “Thanks. I’ve had a piece of toast, but a brekky wrap will be good.”
Allie pulled up outside Kirra’s Kafé. “They’re paid for. Would you mind collecting them?”
Tarryn was back in a minute and set the coffees in the cupholders as Allie pulled away. “I’ll wait until you’re on the main road before giving you the wrap.” She waved at the local policeman with a speed gun hiding behind a bush.
“Good idea.”
Tarryn unwrapped her wrap and took a huge bite.
Allie tried to concentrate on the road and not on how Tarryn wiped a speck of barbecue sauce from her mouth with her little finger. Concentrate!
“These are so good. Soft wrap, double bacon, free-range egg, crispy potato. And Kirra has to deal with idiots who complain they’re not as cheap as that big chain we all know on the highway. There’s no comparison.”
Allie turned onto the main road, and once she was up to speed held out her hand. “I agree. But maybe I need to check again. Just in case Kirra’s cooking has slipped.”
Tarryn handed over the wrap. “No chance of that.”
Even after driving it for a couple of weeks, Sophie’s SUV still felt unfamiliar. It was too big, too lumbering, and it swayed alarmingly on corners, but on the highway, it felt safe enough. She bit into the wrap. “Just as good as I remember.”
Tarryn finished hers and chased it with a sip of coffee. She balled the wrapper into a tight shape, squashing it between finger and thumb. “Can I ask you something?”
She gripped the steering wheel and flicked Tarryn a glance. “Sure. Is everything okay?” Was Tarryn about to say she was uncomfortable with Allie’s kisses? It was a workplace situation after all, and she may have felt pressured. Coldness seeped into her chest. Please, not that. Not with Sophie’s business on the line.
“I’m sure you don’t need another complaint from me about this whole fake wedding thing.” Tarryn sighed. “So I won’t give you one. I just have an awkward question I shouldn’t ask, but I’m not the sort of person who can wait and see. I need to know.”
Allie fixed her stare on the road ahead, and her grip tightened on the steering wheel enough that her knuckles went white. Not good for vehicle control. She made a conscious effort to relax. As long as Tarryn didn’t start talking about workplace coercion, she could get through this. And she had wanted to find out Tarryn’s problem. She just hadn’t expected her to raise it in the first fifteen minutes. “What do you need to know?”
“The kiss. I’m wondering…” She rested her arm on the sill and turned to face Allie. “That is… I don’t know where I stand with you. We were getting along, then you got all salty about organisation, and then you kissed the hell out of me to the stars and back. I remember you said it’s been a while since you kissed anyone, and I know we were acting in a way, pretending for the fake wedding, but… Hell, Sophie. That kiss was dynamite. To me, it seemed…real. As if you wanted to take things further. And if you were anyone else, I’d be upping my seduction game, but I don’t want to step out of line here. I don’t give a rat’s arse you’re supposedly my boss. You’re not really, not in any lasting way, and you’ll be back in Sydney in a few days. So did I read this right?”
Allie dragged a slow breath through her open mouth. The simple answer was yes, Tarryn had read her right, and they should forget going to look at wedding clothes and instead do a U-turn back to Quandong and find somewhere private with a bed.
Her mind fizzed. Was that what she wanted? The answer settled into her head like soft spring rain: yes, it was. But that didn’t mean she would act on it. Flings weren’t her thing, and that’s all it would be with Tarryn. This time next week, she’d be back in Sydney, caring for Sophie, trying to pick up the pieces of her professional life and find herself a new job. She didn’t need any distractions, not even Tarryn-shaped ones. Even if she did have gorgeous skin that made Allie’s fingers itch to touch, even if her metal-grey curls were a striking frame for her expressive, handsome face. No. There was only one answer she could give.
She flashed Tarryn a quick smile and returned her stare to the road. “It was acting. Trying to make it look real. After all, we want people to believe in the romance of love. A stilted peck on the lips wouldn’t give that impression. We want them to sigh and melt inside and wish they, too, could have part of the romance we’re portraying.” She flexed her fingers on the wheel. “Sure, I enjoyed the kiss—who wouldn’t? You’re a great kisser. But I’m not up for a fling, Tarryn.”
Tarryn was silent for a moment. “Pity. We could have had a lot of fun together in the last few days.”
“Maybe. But it’s not what I’m looking for. Let’s keep the kisses for the festival.” She looked across in time to see Tarryn’s lips twitch into a smile.
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Allie let the silence stand for a moment, then said, “And while we’re checking in on each other, I wanted to ask if you’re okay too. You didn’t seem too comfortable at the rehearsal yesterday.”
“I wasn’t.” Tarryn lifted a shoulder. “But I’ll get through it. I’ve committed, Sophie, and once I’ve done that, I don’t go back on my word. I hope I’ll be better on the day.”
Allie nodded. “We’ll get through this together.”
* * *
Tarryn eyed the dresses the wedding hire assistant was showing them. Sure, they were lovely, if that’s what you wanted. Sure, they were everything most brides would dream of: everything from elegant gowns to sexy skin-revealing sheaths to fun and flirty. But although Sophie was oohing and aahing, Tarryn’s request to see something with pants, a tux or a suit, had so far been ignored.
Sophie picked up a couple of the fun-and-flirty dresses. “I’m going to try these. Have you seen anything you like?”
“Not yet. I think I’ll look at the male side.”
“I’m sorry,” the assistant said. “I know you asked for something with pants—like we have in our brochure—but we’ve had a run on those clothes, and there’s very little left in stock. People are definitely moving away from traditional.”
Tarryn went over to the other side of the store and started browsing the racks of suits. She pulled out an aubergine-coloured one and held it up. Too drab? She set it to one side and kept browsing.
The assistant hovered. “We have white suits.”
Tarryn stifled a gasp of horror. She’d look like a drug lord. “Sophie’s looking at colours—it would be better if I stayed away from white as well.”
“Fair enough.” The assistant tapped her collarbone as she thought. “Your girlfriend’s trying on pink hues. Do you want to match?”
“That might be hard.” She suppressed a shudder at the thought of matchy-matchy outfits and she and Sophie looking as sickeningly cute as the Bobbsey twins. “We thought of matching shoes—red hi-tops or something, but I don’t think we need anything past that.”
“How about silver-grey?” At Tarryn’s nod, the assistant darted off, returning a minute later with a silver-grey pants suit. The narrow leg pants and boxy jacket had a subtle shimmer under the lights. “There’s a tiny rip in the back of the pants.” The assistant gave a quick grin. “The last hirer wasn’t exactly the size twelve she claimed to be. It’s awaiting repair, hence it’s not on the rack. See what you think. I reckon we could patch the tear easily enough.”
Tarryn tilted her head and considered the suit. It was elegantly androgynous, classy without being trashy. With a white shirt, red sneakers, and some sort of rainbow tie or scarf, it would also be fun. “It’s good. Let me try it on.” She took the clothes and hung them over her forearm.
A curtain rustled, and Sophie stepped out. She smoothed her palms down the front of her thighs and lifted her chin. “What do you think?”
The dress was simple: a low V neckline that showed a hint of breast, cap sleeves, and a fitted bodice. The skirt flared and fell to just above Sophie’s knee, showing a hint of toned thigh. The dress bled from the palest of pinks at the neckline down to a deep red at the hem. It was eye-catching, it was fun, it was definitely flirty…and best of all, Sophie looked amazing in it. Tarryn’s eyes drifted from her pale arms over the tops of her breasts, down past the indent of her waist to where the skirt ended in a froth of material.
“Wow.” A low burn started in Tarryn’s belly. Sophie was lovely in a girl-next-door, cute sort of way normally. Barefoot and dressed in an unconventional wedding dress, she was stunning.
“Do you like it?” Sophie asked. Her voice had a breathy, uncertain quality it didn’t normally hold.
“I do.”
Sophie’s lips twitched. “That sounds like a wedding vow. I’ll take it as a sign. So, then, if you can find something you like that complements this, we’re home and hosed. Is that what you’re considering?” Her gaze fixed on the suit hanging on Tarryn’s arm.
“Yes. I was just about to try it on.”
“Don’t let me stop you. Unless you need a hand?” She winked.
“I’ll be fine.” Tarryn went into the cubicle Sophie had vacated. She hung the suit on the hook, and, for a moment, she sat, her palms pressed to her cheeks. Sophie had turned her heart upside down, and she struggled for composure. How strange that such a baffling woman could do that. Tarryn took a deep breath. It was just a reaction to seeing her look so gorgeous in such a fun dress, that was all. She’d be fine in a minute.
When her breathing had returned to normal, she stripped her pants, leaving her T-shirt, and donned the silver-grey suit. The pants fit well, clinging to her hips and upper thighs, then falling to the floor in a tapered style. She twisted around to see the rear in the mirror. Yes, a good fit all right. The small tear the assistant had mentioned was barely noticeable. She tugged at the jacket. It didn’t sit right; her shoulders were too wide. Maybe she could get away with just the white shirt.
She left the changing room and, for a second, enjoyed the sight of Sophie in front of the full-length mirror, checking her rear view. Oh yes. Nice.
The assistant hummed. “That jacket is no good on you.” She scurried off.
Sophie turned and her gaze raked Tarryn from head to toe. “I agree about the jacket, but the rest. Wow, the rest is gorgeous.” She came over and hooked her arm through Tarryn’s and turned them both to face the mirror. “We look good together.”
“We do.”
Their gazes collided in the mirror. Tarryn studied how their bodies fit together, Sophie shorter than her, her pale skin looking almost ethereal against the soft pink of the upper part of the dress. And herself… The silver-grey looked good against the darker grey of her hair, and the slight shimmer of her suit set off her olive skin. For a moment, she wished she could stand there for longer, her arm through Sophie’s, their bodies touching hip to hip, arm to arm. She glanced at Sophie’s face. Her lips were parted, and she wore a wistful expression, as if she were far away. Dreaming about a real wedding in her future, maybe?
Sophie’s gaze slid away. “It looks like we’ve found our outfits.”
The assistant returned, a rose-pink waistcoat in her hands. “Try this.” She thrust it at Tarryn.
It fitted perfectly, and the hue matched a shade in Sophie’s dress.
“It looks like we’re done.” Sophie cleared her throat and smiled at the assistant. “Can we take them now?”
“If you can wait a few minutes, I’ll fix that tear in the pants. Pass them out to me when you change.”
Tarryn nodded and headed for the cubicle at the exact same time as Sophie.
“You first.” Sophie brushed the hair from her eyes.
Tarryn changed back into her jeans and handed the pants to the assistant.
Outside the cubicle, she sat on a cream-coloured bench and tried to regroup her thoughts. Her pulse pounded, her palms oozed sweat, and her guts were twisting themselves into nervous knots. She knew the reason: Sophie. Adorable, beautiful Sophie dressed in an ethereal wedding dress of silk. Sophie, who, despite what she’d said earlier, looked at Tarryn as if she wanted to kiss her.
How was she going to get through the next couple of days without making a fool of herself?
Chapter 17
“The first day of the Gay Bells Festival went fine. Honestly, would I lie to you?” Allie propped her back against the headboard and rested the phone on her knee. “There are a lot of visitors in town, all the accommodation is fully booked. The first day of the wedding fair was very busy, and the local food showcase dinner is at capacity.”
“No disasters?” Sophie asked. “Not that I’m expecting them—you’ve done a great job, Al. But something always goes wrong. Something breaks, someone crucial doesn’t show. My money’s on Kirra throwing a hissy fit at Phyll’s bossiness and storming out.”
“All’s peaceful—so far. Phyll is too busy with the wedding fair to pester Kirra, and Kirra’s caught up with the minutiae of the parade. Many of the entrants are coming to her with requests for positioning.”
“What, they all want to be up front?”
Allie laughed. “Mostly it’s who they don’t want to be next to. The Irish dancers have to be ahead of the rainbow dogs so they don’t step in dog poop. The real estate crowd can’t be anywhere near the float from the hardware store as the business owners are enemies—the real estate owner’s grandmother ran off with the hardware store’s grandfather in about 1940, and they still don’t speak.”
Sophie snorted. “Still? That takes commitment in a small town.”
“Kirra’s handling it like a pro, but she’s come up the last three nights to guzzle wine and vent.”
“So, no real drama today, then.” Sophie sighed. “That’s amazing.”
“Don’t get too complacent. Tomorrow will be the real test.” Nerves leaped in Allie’s insides like Irish dancers avoiding dog poop.
“What are you most worried about?”
“The parade. Tarryn and I will have to get ready for the fake wedding, and that leaves the final parade organisation to Kirra—who’s on a float herself—and Phyll, who’ll have just come from the wedding catwalk. It’s cutting it fine. Garrett and Will have offered to help as much as they can, but they’re busy too.”
“I’m not too worried about that. The town people voted you and Tarryn as the fake couple. They knew it would be difficult, but they did it anyway. They must think you can do it.”
“I’ll strike hoping you’re okay with it off my angst list, then. That leaves quite a few things to worry about. Thirty-two at last count.”
“What’s the top one?”
Allie adjusted her position and repositioned the phone when it fell onto the quilt. “Honestly? ‘Marrying’ Tarryn. I keep telling myself it’s just a job, just acting, no worse than playing a von Trapp kid in the Sound of Music in the school play. But I was more relaxed before my dental surgery.”
“Is Tarryn the problem? Is she still giving you grief about how marriage doesn’t belong in queer communities?”
“She seems accepting of her role now. She wants the town to do well from this festival. No, I’m…” How to explain that Tarryn was stirring all sorts of things in her that were best left alone? How to find the words to say that, for her, marriage was a bit more serious than prancing around in a pretty frock.
“Has she kissed you again?” Sophie’s voice hummed low in her ear.
“Yes. And I kissed her.”
“Is that’s what worrying you?”
“Partly. I like her kisses. A lot, if I’m honest, but of course it can’t go anywhere.”
“Because she’s a woman?”
“No!” Allie’s voice was louder than she would have liked. “I’ve accepted I’m…well, I don’t know what I am, but I’m not straight. Because she lives here, and I live in Sydney, and even if we both lived in the same place, I don’t know if I want more. I certainly don’t know if she does.”
“Does it have to go anywhere?” Sophie asked. “Can’t you just have a great fling with a hot woman? You can do your soul-searching back in Sydney.”
“It’s the deception. She thinks I’m you—a lesbian event planner. It would feel very wrong to go into even a fling with that lie between us.”
“I get it. You’re such an honest person—that’s why the whole Kirkland thing is such a bitch. Al, if it gets to that point with Tarryn and you want to own up to who you really are, then do so. Don’t hold back on my account. By then, the festival will be over, and hopefully it’ll be a success, so with luck, no one will hold it against us.”
