Blind Dates and Other Disasters: The Wedding Wish. Элли Блейк
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slapped Ben on the back and grinned at his friend. But this time his smile was radiant with good humour.
Holly took her time fetching the food, and so gladly missed several minutes of chit-chat. That meant they were several minutes closer to the end of the night. Beth had just finished telling about the guitar lessons she was taking so she could play for her baby when Jacob informed the table at large that his younger sister was engaged.
‘So that’s why you’re here,’ Beth said. ‘I knew it had to be more than just the temptation of my roast lamb. Have you met her fiancé?’
‘I have. On Sunday. Nice guy,’ Jacob said. ‘This will be his second time around.’
‘Divorced?’ Beth asked.
‘A widower.’
‘Oh. Poor man. So he’s older than Ana?’
‘A good bit.’
‘Doesn’t surprise me, really, considering.’ Beth brought her fingers to her temples and started to rub. ‘Now, let me guess, knowing Ana, I bet he is in a caring profession. He’s a … vet?’
‘A triage nurse.’
Beth grinned. ‘Oh, how perfect.’ ‘It would take someone with that sort of temperament to look after our Ana. She’s quite a handful.’ ‘You would know.’ ‘No comment.’
Holly could tell there was some serious subtext to Beth’s comments. She was intrigued despite herself, but her desire to stay invisible outweighed her curiosity so she let the conversation continue over her head.
‘Anyway, good on him for taking her on,’ Jacob said. ‘I guess some people just like to be married.’
Holly stopped chewing and her cutlery stilled in her hand. Did he seriously just say what I think he said?
Ben coughed and she hoped he was choking on his potato. Beth’s face, on the other hand, was all innocence. Perhaps Holly had misread the matter and Jacob was really talking about his sister, and not about her.
‘Holly, could you please pass the broccoli?’ Jacob asked.
Holly jumped in her seat at the call of her name. Her frazzled nerves were drawn as tight as Beth’s new guitar strings. As she passed the bowl she locked eyes with the man across the table. He smiled bringing out his oh, so charming dimples.
He’s the anti-husband, she reminded herself, distant and indifferent. And his admittedly appealing dimples are, well, irrelevant.
‘Holly did the vegetables tonight, Jacob,’ Beth said. ‘She’s a whiz with a steamer.’
Holly happily let go of the eye contact as she let go of the plate, and then shot Beth a quick yet entirely humourless smile.
‘Anyway,’ Jacob began again, ‘Ana and Michael have known each other six months, been engaged for a week and are already talking kids.’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful,’ Beth said.
‘I’m all for short engagements,’ Jacob said. ‘She found someone like-minded, at the same point in his life, with the same goals and desires, and snapped him up. It was the smart thing to do.’
Was he serious? Holly had her reasons for embarking on her husband hunt, but what would Mr Standoffish be doing on a blind date with a woman he knew was after marriage? It made no sense. And, worse, it laughed in the face of her theory.
And who on earth was this guy? Ben had conveniently not let on what he did for the company. Maybe because Lincoln Holdings only kept him on in sympathy for some shocking flaw he hid under his cool good looks. Well, apart from the obvious personality defects Holly had already been subjected to.
To make matters worse, what if he eventually recognised her and let on that he was the guy on the street, the guy Beth knew had started her off on this crusade? If Beth knew, she would never let up about signs and primes and all sorts of gibberish. Holly was certain nothing bar that revelation could make this night more unbearable.
‘I want kids, you know,’ Jacob practically cooed. ‘At least eight. No, eleven—a whole soccer team. So I should probably get started as soon as possible.’
Holly barely contained her groan. She lay down her cutlery, unable to 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.