Cutting it Neat for the Wedding (The Glenbriar #9)

Chapter One

Hayley

October

H ayley McBride took the steps to her brother’s flat two at a time. Running late was nothing new for her, but if that grumpy friend of Finlay’s was there, then she didn’t want to appear anything but the pinnacle of perfection. Heaven forbid she lost the right to throw stones, which she would if her own glass house came clattering down around her. And throwing stones was about all she wanted to do when it came to Oliver Wright.

She pushed open the door using the bags looped over her arms and burst into the hallway. One bag slipped, and she did a quick save, grabbing a tub of olives before they toppled out and splattered across Finlay’s perfect cream carpet.

‘Hello!’ she called, giving the bags a shake so their contents were safely inside. At the end of the hall was the bright living room, lined with large windows overlooking the River Briar. Even from here, she saw the water beyond, raging with autumn rain, threatening to burst its banks close to the riverside path.

‘Come through,’ Finlay said.

Hayley peeked around the open door, hoping to see only her brother and her friend Genevieve. Yes, just them, please! She held her breath, relaxing a little when she saw Finlay on the sofa, hand in hand with Genevieve. Phew. Oh, and look at them! How lovely for her friend and her brother to be so happy. A rush of warmth flooded through her. She’d love to stand here all day and smile goofy smiles at them, but a shuffling sound on the opposite side of the room yanked her attention from the idyllic scene. Slowly her focus shifted to the armchair in the corner.

A man, dressed in a black suit that would have fit in well at a funeral, sat there, slow-tapping the arm. His dark hair matched his attire perfectly and his thick eyebrows were knitted in the middle of his furrowed brow. Why did he always scowl? It could be one of the handsomest faces ever to bless planet Earth if it weren’t for that ugly frown. And what was with the expression of distaste plastered across it from ear to ear? Had he trod on dog poo on the way up? As if hearing her thoughts, a little French bulldog peeked up from a basket in the corner. Spotting Hayley, she leapt out of the bed and bolted across to greet her.

‘Hi, Mitzi.’ Hayley gave Genevieve and Finlay’s dog a one-handed pat, still keeping a tight hold on the shopping bags. When she straightened up, she caught sight of the grouch in the corner again. His jaw appeared even stiffer than before.

Hayley raised her eyes to the mirror, flicked her long hair over her shoulder, and took a deep breath. ‘And hey, everyone else.’ She swooped down on Finlay and Genevieve, giving them both one-armed hugs and kisses on the cheek. ‘How are we?’ Taking an empty chair, she briefly glanced at Mr grumpy face. He stared forward, seeming intent on taking in the view and determined not to notice her arrival.

‘Great,’ Genevieve said.

‘Look what I brought for dinner.’ Hayley lifted a bag from the floor as Mitzi sniffed around them. ‘Don’t worry, I have some treats for you too, but I’ve also got human goodies.’

She kept her focus on Mitzi, making sure her eyes didn’t stray anywhere near the grump, sometimes known as Oliver Wright, frequently as Mr always-thinks-he’s Wright, and usually as Mr Wright-pain-in-the-arse, but she sensed him bristle. She always thought it strange he didn’t have a girlfriend, but maybe it was just as well. His potential partners had dodged a bullet.

‘Ooh, what have you brought?’ Genevieve asked.

‘Loads from the deli – I love it there – and a few other things to celebrate the engagement of the year.’

‘You mean us?’ Finlay said.

‘Obviously. Who else would I mean?’

‘I thought maybe one of your favourite TV reality show people got engaged and this is the bulk-buy popcorn so we can watch as it goes south from now on.’

‘Ha ha, no,’ she said. ‘Of course I mean you, you dafty.’

Oliver was now giving off vibes so bristly he may as well have transformed into a hedgehog, or maybe a bear-sized porcupine. Hayley ignored him and dived into the bag.

‘Oh wait,’ Finlay said. ‘It’s not the fourth sandwich toaster or a George Foreman grill, is it?’

‘No, this isn’t the nineteen-eighties,’ she groaned. ‘We have some Freixenet prosecco; just look at that bottle.’ She held it up, so the light bounced off the cut glass surface.

‘Not sure prosecco is good for us,’ Finlay said, and Genevieve smirked at him. Hayley chuckled, knowing full well Finlay had initially proposed after a few too many glasses of the stuff. But that was all water under the bridge now and they were going to be the most amazing bride and groom ever.

‘It’s not good for anyone,’ Oliver muttered. ‘It’s full of sulphur dioxide, which can give you all sorts of breathing issues and indigestion.’

What a party pooper! Hayley continued to smile, though she was grinding her teeth, and carried on like she hadn’t heard him.

‘Indigestion?’ Finlay said. ‘Do you mean it makes you burp or fa—’

‘I got a few bottles of it,’ Hayley cut in, and Genevieve slapped his leg, frowning. ‘You can stick them in the fridge. Even if we don’t drink them tonight, I’m sure you’ll use them. I expect you’ll have loads of people popping in and out.’

‘I suppose it’s almost Halloween,’ Finlay said. ‘We might get some posh guisers who only perform for prosecco.’

‘Well, if you’re offering prosecco,’ Hayley said. ‘I’ll dress up and come knocking on the door. Now, we also have…’ She pulled out some fresh sourdough loaves, olives, chutneys, cheese and cold meats, showing them one by one. ‘And these. I couldn’t resist.’ She held up a heart-shaped box of handmade chocolates.

‘Nice,’ Genevieve said. ‘But remember, I have a dress to fit into in six months.’

‘One or two won’t hurt.’

‘I’ll eat them if you don’t want them,’ Finlay said. ‘Shall we put this stuff in the kitchen before Mitzi runs off with the salami?’ He got up and lifted the bags, taking them over to the kitchen area, separated from the living area by a large kitchen island with barstools.

‘Thank you for offering to provide food,’ Genevieve said. ‘Much as I love cooking, it’s nice not to have to sometimes.’

‘No bother.’ Hayley sat back and clasped her hands, glancing around like an angelic schoolgirl. Oliver shifted in his seat, reclining to the corner furthest from her, despite already being on the other side of the room, and rubbed at his neck. Maybe he thought if he got too close, he’d get hives or something.

‘So… What was the special reason you invited us then?’ Hayley beamed at Finlay and Genevieve as he took his seat on the sofa again. Mitzi jumped up beside him, and he rested his hand on her. How sweet the way he’d taken to her, and the feeling was obviously mutual. She’d originally been Genevieve’s dog, but she looked very content as part of a bigger family. Hayley blinked. Was that why they’d invited her? Were they expecting? Being an aunty would be fun, but it seemed so quick. They hadn’t even had the wedding yet… But she was getting ahead of herself.

‘We wanted to ask you both something.’ Genevieve smiled at Hayley, then Oliver.

‘And it seemed fitting to have you both here at the same time.’ Finlay shifted his gaze between the two of them.

‘Yeah?’ Hayley frowned at Oliver. His fingers flexed on the arm of the chair, but he didn’t make eye contact. Did he know what was going on?

‘We’d like you to be our chief bridesmaid and best man.’ Genevieve grinned from ear to ear.

‘Exactly.’ Finlay squeezed her knee.

‘Aw wow, that’s amazing.’ Hayley jumped up from her seat and engulfed them in a hug again. ‘Of course I will. I’d love to.’

They laughed, patting her back, and Mitzi got to her feet, wagging her stubby little tail and panting.

When Hayley moved back to her seat, Finlay glanced over at Oliver. ‘What about you, mate?’

Oliver pulled a face that was possibly meant to be a smile but looked more like he’d sat on a pincushion. ‘Sure. If that’s what you want.’ He tapped the arm of the chair. ‘But wouldn’t you prefer your cousin, Aidan, to do it?’

‘I’m asking you,’ Finlay said. ‘Aidan’s too busy planning his own wedding and you’re my best buddy.’

Hayley held her eyeroll behind a shared smile with Genevieve. Her brother had chosen a great partner, but his taste in friends… Well, what exactly did they have in common? She wished he’d pick Aidan too, though she understood Finlay's reasons.

‘Then I’ll do it,’ Oliver said.

Finlay got to his feet. ‘Let’s crack open some of that prosecco and celebrate.’

‘I assume you want us to do some organising?’ Hayley clapped her hands together. ‘Hen nights, stags, stens, that kind of thing.’

‘I can’t imagine anyone better for the job,’ Genevieve said.

Hayley beamed, her imagination already running wild. Then her eyes landed on Oliver again. For the first time since she’d entered the room, he fully met her gaze. His dark irises were calm, but behind them she sensed a raging fire. How obvious was it that he didn’t want to do anything that might involve seeing her? What she’d done to inspire such disgust and irritation she wasn’t sure, but one thing was certain, she wouldn’t be letting his grumpy moods ruin her brother’s wedding – not to mention anything she was planning for in between.

Finlay handed her a glass of prosecco. She raised it in Oliver’s direction and winked. She was doing this thing with or without him.