The Wedding Wish. Ally Blake
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stomach another bite.
Beth gave a painfully obvious nod towards Holly before asking, ‘Do you have someone in mind to bear this football team for you?’
Holly glared ferociously at her friend, who refused to meet her eye.
‘Not as such,’ Jacob said, picking up a stem of broccoli on the end of his fork and twirling it before his eyes. ‘But she would have to be a good cook. Though I would hope that she did not enjoy her own cooking so much that she not be able to keep her figure after the kids are born.’
What? Was this guy for real?
Jacob had trouble keeping the smile from his voice. Ben had his head buried in his hands, Beth’s eyes were widening in shock with each absurd statement, and the lovely Holly was slumping lower and lower in her chair.
‘Ben and I talked about this today. Didn’t we, Ben?’ Jacob casually cracked a knuckle or two as if to say, Your choice: shouting and hitting or go with the flow. Ben smiled ruefully and nodded.
‘Constantly, mate. Hardly got any work done, we were so busy talking about kids.’
But Jacob wasn’t finished yet—
‘And I do like blondes. If I were to marry a brunette I would ask that she dye her hair. I mean, if she really cared for my feelings she would do that, wouldn’t you think?’
Jacob revelled in the stunned silence that met his latest words. Got ’em!
‘So, Holly, how about you?’
‘Excuse me?’ Holly squeaked.
‘How many kids do you want?’ Jacob asked.
Holly darted a hunted gaze to her friends but found no help from their corner. Ben was finding his cutlery very interesting whilst Beth still stared at Jacob, her eyes bright with astonishment.
‘Umm…kids?’ she said. ‘I haven’t really thought about it.’
‘No? I’m surprised at that.’
‘Surprised?’ Her voice was still an octave too high and barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat.
‘Don’t all women think of these things? How many and what you would name them all?’
‘I guess,’ Holly admitted whilst wishing she could dissolve into the floor.
‘And haven’t you had a distinct idea of the man you would one day marry?’
And then he smiled. From ear to ear. Adorably overlapping teeth, charming dimples and enough charisma to knock her socks off. If he had held up a big sign with an arrow pointing to himself it would not have been more obvious. He seemed so ripe he probably kept his grandmother’s ring in the top pocket of his jacket every day…just in case.
She swallowed hard. Her brow was furrowed so tight it was giving her a headache. She knew her terrible poker face would be showing all the signs of the strain she felt. She could feel hot red blotches forming on her neck and cheeks. But she had no idea how to extricate herself from this nightmare.
Then suddenly Jacob’s bright eyes narrowed, seemingly looking deeper and deeper into her own until she was sure she saw a softening. A melting. The impenetrable myriad hazel flecks in his gaze grew deep and kind and sad. For a flicker she sensed an apology, as real as if he had said it aloud.
And although she would have thought it impossible, it made her knees feel weaker than they had all night.
He had done enough. He had proven his point. After this performance, Ben and Beth would not dare to set him up on this kind of date again. And that was all he wanted from the night. So he changed tack.
‘How about you, Beth? Did you think you’d end up with someone soft and fuzzy like young Benny boy?’
As Beth proceeded to regale the group with tales of numerous dream boys from her teens Jacob watched as Holly slowly relaxed.
Her natural colour had returned and he noticed again what an attractive woman she was—and just his taste. Not too tall, graceful, curvaceous, vivacious. And he had been lying earlier to rile her. He had never been one of those men who preferred blondes. Her lustrous, thick dark hair beguiled him. He found himself wanting to release it from its confining pins and feel its lush abundance sliding through his fingers.
With her head cocked, listening to Beth’s funny stories, she surreptitiously picked up stray slivers of carrot and brought them to her mouth, daintily sucking them in with a swift sip. And each time she gave the tips of her fingers an unhurried lick, savouring the slight drops of honey. And Jacob was mesmerized. It was all he could do to stop himself from licking his own lips, she made it look so good.
‘Don’t you remember Gary Phelps, Holly?’ Beth asked, snapping Jacob back to the conversation at hand. Holly even managed a small laugh. It was a pretty sound. Light and unselfconscious.
‘He was so horrid, Beth.’ Holly grimaced, but her voice had returned to a more normal timbre.
‘He was not. He was lovely.’
‘He was five feet tall and never washed his hair. I never knew what you saw in him.’
‘Just because he wasn’t tall, dark and handsome like every boy you ever had a crush on didn’t mean he couldn’t be attractive to someone else. Namely me. And what a kisser.’
Holly flicked a sudden glance Jacob’s way. If he had blinked, he would have missed it, but he had caught its full measure. It was a look brimming with suppressed attraction. He should have jumped from his seat and run for his life. But he didn’t.
She had bruised his ego enough with her indifference towards his business practices. So he intended to soak up every bit of positive attention she was willing to send his way. Just to even the scales. That was all.
‘Hey,’ Ben called out, feigning a broken heart. ‘You do realise your husband and the father of your soon to be child is sitting here having to listen to these stories of young love which do not involve him.’
‘Yes, darling but you have to remember that, out of this long line of dreamboats, I chose you.’
‘Very true.’ Ben beamed lovingly at his wife.
Under the mask of laughing along with them, Jacob stole a cheerful glance over Holly, and he found her leaning her chin on her palm, watching Ben and Beth with a smile of pure joy splashed across her lovely face. Her expression was so tender it was luminous. And in that moment he thought he understood her. It did not seem so very strange to want what Ben and Beth had.
Jacob felt a sudden tightening in his chest. Not good. He needed time out. He pushed his chair back and stood up.
‘Excuse me, folks. I have to powder my nose.’
As soon as Jacob left Beth leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, ‘What on earth is with him tonight, Ben? All that talk of babies and blondes, that wasn’t like the Jacob Lincoln of old.’
‘Lincoln?’ Holly mimicked Beth’s strained whisper, as it was the only way she could stop herself from shouting. ‘He’s Jacob Lincoln? As in your boss, Link? As in Lincoln Holdings Lincoln?’
Ben flinched. ‘Ah, yes. He’s one and the same.’
‘What on earth is he doing here? You told me he lived in…New Orleans or some such place.’ And he was supposed to be balding, with a paunch and liver spots. Not…well, not so manifestly the opposite.
‘He did,’ Ben said. ‘Then without telling a soul he moved back to Melbourne a couple of days ago.’
That first morning, standing on the corner, armfuls of luggage, faint accent. Holly dropped her face into her palms.
‘That means I told him how little I thought of his boxing idea, not at the time realising that it was his idea, then accused him of going to the wrong bathroom, not at the time realising it was his bathroom. He’s really Jacob