The Boy and the Bridesmaid Read online

  PRAISE FOR KATEY LOVELL

  ‘Magical and sparkly short stories, highly recommended’

  Sky’s Book Corner

  ‘I’m so glad I picked this up, it’s gorgeous!’

  Rather Too Fond of Books

  ‘Swooning all the way through’

  Reviewed the Book

  ‘An absolutely wonderful debut’

  Little Northern Soul

  ‘Quirky, cute and utterly romantic’

  Bestselling author Rebecca Raisin

  ‘Sweet, romantic, perfectly formed coffee break reads. I loved them’

  Bestselling author Carmel Harrington

  The Boy and the Bridesmaid

  The Meet Cute Series

  KATEY LOVELL

  A division of HarperCollinsPublishers

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  HarperImpulse an imprint of

  HarperCollinsPublishers

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2016

  Copyright © Katey Lovell 2016

  Cover images © Shutterstock.com

  Cover design by Books Covered

  Katey Lovell asserts the moral right to

  be identified as the author of this work

  A catalogue record for this book

  is available from the British Library

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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  and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

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  Ebook Edition © June 2016 ISBN: 9780008166663

  Version 2016-05-09

  For Andrea Seymour, my one and only godsister

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Praise for Katey Lovell

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  The Meet Cute Series

  The Boy and the Bridesmaid

  Also by Katey Lovell

  Katey Lovell

  About the Publisher

  About HarperImpulse

  The Meet Cute Series

  The Boy in the Bookshop

  The Boy at the Beach

  The Boy at the Bakery

  The Boy on the Bus

  The Boy with the Board

  The Boy with the Boxes

  The Boy at the BBQ

  The Boy under the Mistletoe

  The Boy and the Bridesmaid

  The Boy and the Bridesmaid

  Maria wished she’d been more prepared. She should have known her emotions would get the better of her, after all, weddings are notoriously tear-jerking events. Snuffling inelegantly into her napkin, she silently apologised to the hotel staff for sullying their table linen.

  She didn’t used to be like this, crying at the drop of a hat. Now the smallest of things could bring a tear to her eye. She’d even cried at EastEnders the other night. Anxiety had changed her; not just the crying, but the panic attacks where she could hardly breathe, the feeling of a hole through the centre of her body, as though she were an apple that had been cored, the difficulty to remain focussed even if things interested her.

  She was distracted now. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the band setting up. They were behind the white drape which acted as a partition, but being placed at the end of the top table she could see right around it.

  There were four guys in all. One of them, Harrison, she recognised as her cousin Lucy’s boyfriend. He was one of those hipster sorts who wore skin-tight jeans with a plain white t-shirt. James Dean cool. She’d only met him the once, but he’d seemed nice enough and obviously cared for Lucy. Then there was a brown haired guy shifting the speakers, and struggling by the look of it. He beckoned to one of his bandmates, a short redhead who looked a bit like Ed Sheeran, to give him a hand.

  But it was the boy at the front fiddling with the mic stand who’d grabbed her attention. His skin was smooth and dark, his hair cropped short to his head. He had the faintest hint of stubble covering his angular jawline and his eyes were fixed with concentration on the job in hand.

  Maria had never seen anyone so handsome before, at least, not in real life. If he’d been in the magazines she and Helena had squandered their pocket money on in their early teens, she’d have definitely made room for him on her section of the bedroom wall. He wouldn’t have looked out of place next to the David Beckham posters that had doubled as wallpaper in the room the sisters had shared.

  Forcing herself to concentrate, Maria listened as her sister’s new husband Ashton continued his speech. He’d already thanked the bridesmaids for ensuring Helena stayed calm in the lead up to the big day and for being not just sisters to the bride, but friends too. That was what had set Maria off crying originally, and as she’d looked across at Betsy (who wasn’t her and Helena’s biological sister but was actually their Mum’s goddaughter) she’d been pleased to notice she wasn’t the only one moved by Ashton’s words. Betsy might not be a blood relative, but the girls had always referred to each other as godsisters, and they’d always been exceptionally close.

  “We’re fortunate to have extremely talented and generous friends who’ve offered their time and talent to ensuring me and my wife—“

  Whoops and cheers went up from the guests at this. Helena’s face flushed at the thought of being Mrs Miller and the groom flashed his perfect Californian smile, full of pride.

  “My wife and I have the most perfect day imaginable,” he continued. “There are a few more people I must thank before we eat. Helena’s oldest friend Chelsea and her Mum, Michelle have done a brilliant job with the flowers. All the centrepieces, the bouquets, the buttonholes – that’s their handiwork, and I’m sure you’ll agree it’s brought some colour to the proceedings.” The vivid gerberas in shades of sunshine yellow, cerise pink and radiant orange were certainly eye-catching. “So massive thanks to them and all the team at The Rose Bowl for their hard work. And speaking of hard work, we’ve got to mention Rosie’s efforts. The bunting that’s strung up is the result of hours of her handiwork, and I’m sure you’ll agree it’s absolutely perfect.” Everyone looked upwards, taking in the floral triangles hung from the beams in the converted barn.

  “I might get my girlfriend back now!” Rosie’s boyfriend Connor heckled good-naturedly.

  Maria laughed. Rosie had always been a creative type, even as a child, so it was no surprise she’d gone into the arts. Maria had fond memories of the pair of them threading brightly painted tubes of penne pasta onto shoelaces to use as necklaces when they’d been childhood neighbours.

  “Anyone who knows me knows food is definitely one of my favourite things and you’re in for a treat when the wedding breakfast is served. Marwan was one of the first people I met when I came to visit Helena here in the UK, and his Dad’s restaurant serves the best food from all over the world. You’ll see what I mean very soon. Thanks for
being a friend Marwan, and for the recommendation.”

  Marwan smiled shyly, pleased at his part in the day. He’d liked Ashton from the off; although they couldn’t have been more different in terms of looks or personality something had clicked between the two of them. Ashton and Helena had started dating just a month before Marwan and his girlfriend Jade.

  “Our cake over there,” Ashton continued, gesturing to the three tiered sponge in the corner of the marquee, “was made by Thornfields Bakery. It’s exactly what we’d asked for, and I’m exceptionally grateful to Cole for allowing me to use his staff discount – I never realised cakes could be so expensive!”

  He winked, and all the women swooned. Ashton had that effect on women.

  Cole held his hand up and nodded a playful bow, and his fiancée Lily wrestled his hand down, embarrassed.

  “And later this evening we’re lucky enough to have a live band, The Jetsons, playing. Be gentle with them, especially Harrison,” he joked. He noticed Helena’s cousin Lucy scowling at him from behind her champagne flute, and quickly redeemed himself. “But seriously, they’re awesome, and I’m sure they’ll get everyone dancing. After the band have finished we’ve got Toby, a professional DJ, doing a set for us. He’s normally somewhere sunnier than Yorkshire at this time of year, although we’ve been blessed by blue sky today. We’ve got glow sticks and finger lights for the kids, and anyone else who wants them when that part of the party kicks off.”

  Maria laughed. Helena had always been more into Girls Aloud than dance music, but Ashton enjoyed letting his wild blonde waves down on the dance floor. By splitting the entertainment into two halves the evening do had something for both the bride and the groom, the perfect balance of traditional wedding classics from the band and dance music later on.

  “I can see the kitchen signalling food is ready to be served, so I won’t keep you any longer, other than to say there are people we wish were able to be here with us today who we know would be so thrilled to share in our wedding day.”

  Tears pricked Maria’s eyes once more.

  Mum. Her gorgeous Mum.

  It had been almost two years since she’d died, knocked down by a hit and run driver on Helena’s eighteenth birthday, but it still hurt so much. She’d always loved a celebration, and Maria knew she would have revelled in arranging the perfect wedding celebration for her youngest daughter.

  “So may I ask now that we all raise our glasses to absent friends.”

  “To absent friends,” murmured the guests.

  Maria felt a lump rise in her throat. Whilst she was over the moon for Helena, she couldn’t help but feel left behind. Her little sister was a married woman, moving to California and starting a new life with Ashton as soon as the paperwork went through. And Maria? She’d still be here in Yorkshire. Twenty two years old and playing gooseberry to her Dad and stepmum. It was hardly enviable.

  As she dug her spoon into the flesh of the melon that had been placed in front of her, Maria’s eyes were drawn back to the band, who’d almost finished setting up. That singer, he was beautiful. Everything about him was in high definition – large almond-shaped eyes, a jawline chiselled to perfection peppered with a sprinkling of stubble. And his physique, it was everything that she loved. Not too tall (because Maria herself was only five foot three and she looked ridiculous stood next to anyone over six foot) and athletic. His arms were defined as though he worked out, muscular without being beefy.

  Yes, she was very much looking forward to watching the band later in the evening.

  *

  “Hasn’t it been brilliant?” Helena gushed, throwing her arms around her sister. The full satin skirt of her wedding dress made hugging difficult, it was that huge. “I can’t believe I’m a married woman!”

  Maria laughed. “I know. Mrs Miller! It’s going to take some getting used to. But I’m so pleased for you, Nel,” she said, reverting to the nickname Helena had answered to as a child. “Ashton is perfect for you. He’s so chilled out, nothing stresses him. And everyone can see how much he loves you.”

  As though on cue Ashton looked across at his new wife, blowing a kiss before returning to his conversation with Toby and his girlfriend Lauren. Maria had known Toby for years, they’d both spent far too much time at the local ice rink during their teenage years, but it was the first time they’d met Lauren. She was bubbly and vibrant, and reminded Maria of a bottle of champagne just before the cork popped. It was as though everything inside her was bursting out, through her words, her actions, her demeanour. Maria couldn’t help but wish she was that outgoing, rather than nervous of the mass of people.

  “I’m just so happy. It’s been a wonderful, wonderful day. Thank you for everything, you’re the best sister a girl could ask for.”

  “Don’t start me off again!” Maria answered, fanning her hands in front of her eyes in an attempt to stem the tears. “I’ve been a blubbering wreck all day.”

  “Well, I’m throwing my bouquet soon, and although I shouldn’t say it, I’m hoping you catch it. I’m enjoying flouncing around in this dress so much that I quite fancy being a bridesmaid soon.” Helena swished the marshmallow cloud of the dress, giggling at the absurdity of it.

  Maria snorted. “If you want to be a bridesmaid, you’d be better aiming at one of your friends. They’re all loved up and far closer to marriage than I am. Chelsea and her fella look like they’re in it for the long haul. You’d be better tapping up her than me. I’ve been single over two years now, it’s getting ridiculous.”

  “Do something about it then,” smiled Helena, as though it were that easy. “You’re too guarded. Sometimes you’ve got to take a risk. Remember what Mum always said? ‘Life is for living’. I saw you ogling the singer from the band, it was obvious you like him. Look, he’s sat at the bar with Harrison and Lucy. Go and have a drink with them. What have you got to lose?”

  Maria was horrified by the suggestion. “No way! I can’t even remember how to flirt, it’s been that long.”

  “I was talking to him earlier, he’s really friendly,” Helena encouraged. “His name’s Jake. Go on, don’t be such a wuss.”

  Maria could tell her sister wasn’t going to let it go. Once she got an idea in her head she could be most persistent.

  “Ok, ok, if it stops you nagging. You’ve only been married five hours and already you’re turning into one of those old married women who think being single is the worst thing in the world.”

  “I don’t think that at all. I just want you to find someone who brings back your sparkle, like Ash has to me.”

  “And I do want that, I do. I don’t have the energy for it.”

  “It’s a conversation Maria, not a marathon. You don’t need energy. Now go, before you make a bride do something she’ll regret!”

  Taking a deep breath, Maria walked towards the bar area. Music was playing through the speakers and the rhythmic beat pulsated through her body, synchronised with her heart.

  And there was the singer, Jake, right in front of her. He had his back to her, his shoulder blades pronounced under the white cotton of his t-shirt.

  She could feel every nerve ending tingling, the first sign that she was going to have a panic attack. Cursing her anxiety she walked on past, hurriedly heading to the large conservatory. If she got away from the crowds and used her techniques, maybe she’d be able to stop it happening.

  It was more peaceful in the conservatory, and Maria felt she could finally stop. It had been a full on day, emotions were running high and she needed time out before her head exploded.

  Sinking down into a wicker tub chair she closed her eyes, absorbing the sounds around her. Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth her head already felt clearer, the panic subsiding.

  She’d learnt the mindfulness technique from her bereavement counsellor, and although she’d have thought it ridiculous before, she couldn’t deny that it worked. She felt instantly calmer. Opening her eyes, she could see the stars through the glass roof
overhead, nature’s fairy lights twinkling magically above her.

  “Hey,” came an unfamiliar voice. Maria turned quickly and was shocked to discover Jake sat in the chair beside her. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “Erm, no.” He hadn’t interrupted, but Maria couldn’t shrug off her embarrassment at being found hiding out at her own sister’s wedding, trying to remember how to breathe because her social anxiety had got the better of her.

  “It helps, doesn’t it? The meditation. I do it before every performance or I get so worked up that I forget the words. The other lads take the piss, but it’s the only thing that help.” He smiled, his teeth sparkling white against his dark skin.

  “I didn’t used to be like it,” Maria blurted. “But I don’t like crowds now, they make me feel claustrophobic. So a huge wedding like this…it’s terrifying.”

  “I wouldn’t have known, you’ve looked so calm all day. I noticed you earlier, when we were setting up. You didn’t seem fazed being sat at the top table with all those eyes on you.”

  “That was different. All I had to do was sit there. Everyone was listening to the speeches, so no one was looking at me.”

  “I was,” he replied, holding her gaze.

  Maria laughed nervously, unsure how to respond.

  “Seriously. And when we were doing the set I kept looking out for you on the dance floor, but you were sat right at the back. It was pretty distracting.”

  Maria blushed. She had been sat at the back, quietly watching whilst everyone else sang along to the classic rock songs.

  “You’ve got a great voice,” she said finally. “Really gravelly.”

  “Thanks. I’ve been singing in bands for the last three years, but this one seems to be taking off. We’re getting more bookings now, only local but it’s better than nothing. You should come and see us sometime, at a smaller gig. We’re playing The King’s Head next Thursday. It’s always quiet on a weeknight, if you fancy it?”