33. Carpenter-boy #2
I didn’t know what was funny about Mike barging into his sister’s bridesmaid’s dress fitting to bark out orders, but clearly, everyone had lost their minds.
“I know way more about Vicky’s clothing preferences than you. Do you think for one minute I’d let her feel uncomfortable?” Lottie said.
“Run along, love,” Hetty said with a dismissive wave to her son. “You’re in the way here.”
Mike harrumphed but did as his mum said.
“I’m really sorry, Lucy,” I muttered, my face feeling like it was on fire.
“No, don’t apologise for my brother.” Lucy’s smile was wide now and she was bouncing on her toes with excitement. “I know first-hand how protective he can be. I’m just so happy you guys are finally working things out.”
I didn’t have a chance to correct her. In fact, I didn’t really have a chance to do much of anything other than try on dresses.
We settled on a soft satin dress with hidden seams, and magically, no labels. It wasn’t too dissimilar to the nighties I already wore, so I knew I’d be able to tolerate it—I’d probably even be able to sleep in it, it was so comfortable.
With outfits sorted, everyone decided to go to The Badger’s Sett for a post-fitting drink, and despite me feeling like I was at the end of my tolerance for Mike exposure, it was made clear that I was coming too.
Now, I blame what happened at the pub on my being slightly overwhelmed by the general situation.
This included hearing Lucy calling me one of her best friends, having Mike touch me when I’d been dreaming about him every night and longing to touch him so much I’d felt like I was coming out of my skin, and the glass of champagne I’d already had at the dress fitting.
The low-level fury I felt when Mike was cornered on his way to the bar almost scared me.
I recognised Olivia—she was a family friend of the Hardings, equally posh, very beautiful and extremely charming. Her family lived on an estate in a neighbouring village, so it wasn’t that unusual for her to be in the pub.
When she turned her considerable charm on Mike, I froze, bracing for him to smile at her, for him to see the possibility of an actual functioning partner for him, rather than someone who needed a carer.
“Ugh.” Lucy huffed when she saw me glowering at them from our table. “She’s been after Mike for a while. Just ignore her, Vics.”
But I couldn’t ignore her. I couldn’t look away.
But instead of leaning into her and smiling at her, Mike stiffened.
When she put her hand on his chest, the expression that crossed his face was one I actually recognised.
I’m not that good with facial expressions—a lot of them are tricky for me to interpret—but I could almost feel the emotion behind this one. Maybe because I’d felt it so often myself when someone I didn’t want near me touched me. It was a feeling of horror mixed with disgust and claustrophobia.
I stood up from my seat so suddenly that it scraped back behind me with a sharp sound.
“Vics?” Lottie asked, looking between me and Mike with some growing alarm. “I don’t think…”
I didn’t stay to hear the rest of what she had to say. I was weaving my way to the bar. My only plan was to get that woman’s hands off Mike. I had to brace myself to squeeze through the crowd, not wanting to be so near these people, but I couldn’t get his expression out of my head.
“Olivia, I’m sorry,” I heard him say as I got closer. “I’ve tried to be nice about this, but I’m not interested.”
“Come on, carpenter-boy,” Olivia purred, and I stiffened.
Carpenter-boy? Who the hell did she think she was?
“What’s the problem?” Her hand was moving from his chest down to his crotch, and I was done.
“Stop touching him!” I shouted, and the low-level noise of the pub quietened around us. “He… he doesn’t want you touching him.”
Olivia gave me a withering look, but she did take her hands off Mike.
I let out a sharp breath of relief.
“Bloody hell. Chill, would you?” she said, holding her hands up in surrender. “Didn’t know you were still slumming it.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Slumming it?”
She shrugged. “I thought you dumped him. If you don’t want your bit of rough long term, you should let the rest of us have a go.”
“He’s not a bit of rough,” I said. “He’s kind, honourable, beautiful, loyal, and intelligent.
He makes me laugh, which is not always an easy thing to do.
He’s the best man I’ve ever met in my life .
And he doesn’t deserve the way you’ve put your hands on him without his consent.
” I shook my head jerkily from side to side.
“He doesn’t deserve being called carpenter-boy when he’s a skilled artist.”
“Woah.” Olivia backed off with her hands in the air. “Calm the fuck down. Keep your blue-collar bit of stuff.”
“You shouldn’t call him?—”
“Hey, hey.” Mike’s soft, amused voice cut me off, and suddenly, my view of Olivia was blocked by his big body.
I blinked up at him. Why was he smiling?
“I think she gets the message, love.”
“She shouldn’t speak to you that way,” I said, my voice tight as Olivia stalked off to the other side of the bar.
“Okay,” he said, still smiling.
I shook my head. “And she shouldn’t touch you if you don’t want her to touch you.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m okay, I promise.” He stepped into my space and reached for my hands, which I realised were clenched into tight fists. “You can stand down, love.”
I let out a breath in a huff, still not ready to let go of my anger completely.
“Let’s go back to the table, okay?” He steered me back to the others with that hand on my lower back again.
“Why are you all smiling?” I asked.