Chapter 13
In all his years of knowing Emma-Jane Bennett, never in Jordan’s wildest dreams had he imagined walking into a supermarket and seeing her face splashed across the cover of a weekly women’s magazine.
And certainly not pictured in a restaurant with one of Australia’s richest men looking like he wanted to devour her. Seriously?
Hurt creased his chest as he picked up the magazine and flicked through a couple of pages to the article. ERIC CHURCHILL AND HIS MYSTERY brUNETTE, screamed the headline.
And sure enough, the article didn’t hold much information apart from that, certainly no details about EJ, which was probably something to be thankful for.
He guessed this was from her Dream Match appointment with Eric when he’d been too sick to attend, so that was something at least. But it didn’t change the savage pang of jealousy he felt.
They certainly looked very cosy in that picture.
EJ had called him on her journey home, saying the meeting had gone very well.
He hadn’t realised it had gone so well that people were now speculating even more that it was a date.
He was tempted to call her again, to see if she knew about the magazine cover, but then figured if she hadn’t yet, it might freak her out.
Then figured if she walked into a supermarket and saw her face on a magazine cover, that might freak her out even more.
So he did what any best friend would do and called her.
“You’ve reached EJ. Please leave a message.”
“Hey, EJ, it’s only me. Just thought I’d give you a heads-up that your face is on a magazine cover. Call me.”
He hung up, then wondered if that sounded too bossy. Not that he cared right now. She was an adult, but he was her best friend. He was only looking after her, caring about her best interests. The same couldn’t be said about every man she knew.
The house was quiet, apart from the washing machine. Aidan and Ben were at the footy, and James was out with his soon-to-be in-laws.
James and Rachael’s wedding was drawing closer, and as ever, Jordan had asked EJ to be his date, just as she’d always asked him whenever a plus-one was required.
Neither of them had ever really dated, so their pact to be each other’s dates had always worked well.
Until now. Would she even still want to come with him now that she was dining with the rich and famous?
He was deep in weekend washing duties when she finally returned his call.
“You didn’t answer.”
“Oh, sorry. I was out.”
“At the gym?” He didn’t want to sound like a jealous boyfriend. He really didn’t. But he also couldn’t live with the panic of not knowing what was going on.
“Yes. Then I went out for a quick drink. A smoothie, actually, so don’t get too worried.”
“How worried should I be?” He was only half joking.
Her laughter sounded strained. “Not worried at all.”
He wanted to ask who she had gone with. Like, he really wanted to know. But any gracious words felt stalled in his throat. “So, um, who did you go with?” He closed his eyes. Please don’t say Eric. Please don’t say—
“Actually, I happened to bump into Gwen.”
Oh, thank God.
“So I went with her.” A beat. “And Eric.”
He gritted his teeth. “Seriously?”
She laughed. “I know. What were the chances? I felt like it was a good chance to touch base and see where things were at with the proposal.”
“You did, did you?” As soon as the snarky words slipped out, he wanted to slap himself for his lack of subtlety.
“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Not nothing. Spill.”
He bit back a sigh and did his best to explain. “It’s just that it seems a little convenient for him to keep popping up.”
“That’s what I wondered too, but I figured it doesn’t matter too much, seeing we are trying to get this across the line.”
But it did matter. Because if Eric had wrong motives, then this wouldn’t end well. Couldn’t end well.
“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?” Suspicion loaded each word.
Quick, he needed something else. “Look, I needed to check in regarding James’ wedding. Are you still okay for that?”
“Sure.”
“There’s a rehearsal dinner you’re invited to.”
“When’s that?”
“This Friday night.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? That doesn’t sound promising.”
“It’s just that I told Gwen I’d have dinner with her this Friday. I’m sorry. I must’ve forgotten or something.”
“It was a last-minute thing,” he mumbled. He really hoped Eric wouldn’t take it upon himself to attend the dinner with Gwen as well. “You can still make the wedding, can’t you?”
“What’s the date again?”
“The Saturday the following weekend.” He closed his eyes, praying she could. He didn’t know why it felt so important, except that it felt a little like a competition between them. David versus Goliath. Naturally, Jordan was David.
“It’s locked in.”
“Good,” he said, as his entire being seemed to exhale in relief. “I think it’ll be fun. James and Rachael have been working hard to get all the details ready.”
She laughed. “I like how you pretend James has been working hard, when we both know who the real organiser is in that relationship.”
“It’s going to be a great day,” he promised.
“I’m sure.”
Two weekends later, his breath hitched as EJ walked into the stone church, followed by Harriet. She took a seat in the wooden pew, then looked at the front where he stood with the other groomsmen, smiling when he caught her gaze. She was beautiful.
Her dark blue dress made her eyes more luminous, her skin fairer, her lipstick a beacon to her face.
They hadn’t seen each other since he’d dropped in when she’d been sick, with last weekend’s showers putting a literal dampener on any Saturday morning run and this morning being far too busy.
Three weeks without EJ felt far too long.
He was best man but couldn’t wait to offload his partner, Rachael’s sister and matron of honour, to her husband so he could talk with the woman he wished to spend the rest of the day with. The rest of his life with.
He swallowed, trying to find moisture for his suddenly dry mouth, as the realisation swept across him.
Maybe it was wedding fever, but he couldn’t stand the thought of EJ with someone else.
And as vows were spoken and promises exchanged, he knew he could promise the same for EJ.
Because he had loved her in sickness and in health, for better or for worse. He’d been doing that all his life.
He ducked his head, forcing himself to focus, to fulfil his best man duties in handing over the rings, signing the register, and walking the matron of honour down the aisle before hundreds of photographs were taken.
His cheeks were sore by the time he finally could speak to the person he most wanted to. “Well, hello.”
She smiled. “Well, hello to you too.”
He took her hand and encouraged her to twirl. “Very nice.”
“Only very nice? I’ll have you know that this is a genuine Dolce you look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Her eyes met his, her smile wavering a little.
“What is it?” he asked quickly.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just you seem in a really good mood today.”
“That’s because I am. I’m here with you, and what can be better than that?”
Her shoulders dropped a little, as if she relaxed, her features settling into a more genuine smile too. His heart hammered. Was this the time, when romance was all around, to see if he could somehow nudge this relationship beyond the friend zone?
Her breath caught, and he followed her gaze to where someone he’d hoped never to see again stood, grinning like a Cheshire cat, his arm around a tall brunette. “Wow. I didn’t expect to see Neil here.”
“Good to see he’s moved on, right?”
“Right.” And a real relief to know he wouldn’t be pursuing EJ anymore.
EJ smiled at him, and again he felt the desire to tell her how he felt. To let her know she was his Miss Right, and hoped that one day she might consider him as her Mr. Right too. He opened his mouth—
“Hey, Jordan, are you ready?” Aidan called.
Darn. “Sorry, I’ve got to go take more photos at the park. But I’ll see you at the reception, right?”
“Sure. Harriet and I will be there.”
He nodded, excused himself, and prayed that he might finally get a chance to talk with her and share something of his heart.
It was funny being at a wedding reception as Jordan’s plus-one, but not really, as he had best man duties to fulfil, leaving her seated at this round table with Harriet and a bunch of Rachael’s cousins who were strangers.
She and Harriet talked shop about Dream Match a little, and then she found out a little more about this Marty Roberts person Harriet seemed fond of.
He was a local, a boilermaker, which wasn’t quite the kind of man she’d envisaged as suitable for someone as clever as Harriet.
And while she gently tried to say this, to point out other available men, Harriet seemed to think she and Marty were fine.
“Come on, EJ. If I’ve learned anything about relationships thanks to Dream Match, it’s that we’re not supposed to judge others on their looks or status, but to consider their character and hearts.”
“Well, yes.” But, she longed to say, you could do so much better than a boilermaker. Where was the ambition with that? What did boilermakers even do? Make boilers?
“Jordan looks really good tonight,” Harriet said, motioning to where the bride and groom were being joined on the dance floor by their wedding party.
“Yes.”
Jordan did look surprisingly handsome tonight.
She’d seen women looking at him, and felt the weirdest sense to fight them off.
Which wasn’t kind of her, she knew. He was her friend, but she didn’t have the right to scare off potential girlfriends.
When he’d looked at her so seriously before, she’d almost been tempted to ask if he had an interest in anyone.