SIX
Six
With Emma’s heartfelt speech still ringing in her ears, Bel arrived at Glentoberon and parked, carefully wiggling out of the driver’s seat in her tight dress and taking one last glance in the side mirror to make sure everything was still in place.
On a normal visit, she rarely entered through the front door, but tonight, everything was lit up and the front of the house glowed with a welcoming light.
The old house was grand—there was no other word for it. It boasted a wide, tiled verandah that circled the lower floor of the house, and a covered balcony on top that led out from the bedrooms on the second storey.
She walked into the huge open foyer, admiring the sweeping staircase leading to the second floor.
There was an audible gasp to her left and Bel turned to find her aunt blinking at her. ‘Bel, you look … so different,’ she said, forcibly regaining her composure.
‘Hello, Aunt Lois. Yes, it was time for a bit of a change.’
‘Well after time,’ Lois corrected, lifting her eyebrows pointedly. ‘It’s a big improvement.’
Gee, thanks , Bel thought, inwardly rolling her eyes as she followed her aunt into the enormous sitting room to the left of the foyer and took a moment to appreciate how beautiful it looked. The whole house had been repainted, and the sitting room had undergone a massive facelift—much like herself. There was a feature wall with delicate pale blue flowers on one side and the furniture had all been reupholstered in varying shades of blues, creams, whites and yellows. A small table was loaded up with nibblies and a bar stretched along the back of the enormous room.
‘You made it! I knew that dress would be perfect on you!’ Larkin squealed, coming across to greet her.
‘Thank you for the lend. You were a lifesaver.’
‘Keep it. I never really liked it on me. Come and meet everyone,’ she said, pulling Bel along behind her. ‘Everyone, this is my cousin, Bel. Bel, this is Gigi and Niki. And Tristan’s groomsmen, Henry, Oliver, Elijah, Leo and Tate. And you know Kelly and Lisa, of course.’
Bel registered how disconcertingly similar they all dressed and spoke, even if they were set apart by different hair colours and heights. They all had the same perfectly white straight teeth and well-manicured hands. Bel swallowed nervously as her eyes fell on Tate. Was it possible he’d somehow gotten even more handsome in the past few days?
‘Bel?’ Larkin said, making her jump guiltily.
‘Sorry?’ she stammered slightly.
‘What would you like to drink?’
‘Oh. Um … whatever. Wine? Anything is fine.’
‘Look at that, an easily pleased woman. Who knew they existed?’ said Leo, a tall blond-haired variant, as he left to get Bel her drink.
‘How have you managed to keep this little gem a secret for so long, Larkin?’ Elijah asked as his gaze shifted from Bel’s face to her chest.
‘Bel rarely comes to the city, despite my best attempts to drag her there,’ Larkin said.
‘You really should come and visit. I’d be more than happy to show you around,’ Elijah continued. Bel suppressed a frown. He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact he was ogling her.
‘Here you go,’ Leo said, cutting in smoothly. He stepped closer to hand her the drink, brushing his arm against the side of her breast.
Surely that hadn’t been on purpose? It was hard to tell. She held her glass awkwardly and took a sip, looking around for a seat somewhere quieter, but the men were still trying to make small talk.
‘So, you’re a Buckley too?’ Henry said. Bel tried not to shift uncomfortably under the weight of their sudden interest. This was the exact reason she preferred to be at the back of the room, ignored.
‘Yep.’
‘Did you grow up here at Glentoberon?’
‘Ah, no. I lived in town.’
‘So not a farm girl like Larkin, then?’ Oliver said.
Bel was grateful she hadn’t taken another sip of her wine or she would have spat it all over the front of Oliver’s shirt. Larkin was about as far removed from being a farm girl as you could get. ‘No.’
‘What a shame. I have a thing for country girls.’
‘Since when?’ Niki asked, sidling up to Oliver and sliding an arm through his.
‘Since arriving.’
‘I doubt you’d know one end of a cow from another,’ she teased.
‘It’s not the cows I’m interested in.’
‘It’s more sheep,’ Bel found herself saying. She glanced around and noticed Tate had joined the little group and was watching her with a faint grin.
‘Excuse me?’ Oliver said while the others chuckled and made rude remarks about his being overly affectionate with sheep. ‘What, because my parents are from New Zealand? Is that what you’re trying to say?’
‘What? No,’ Bel stammered. How the hell was she supposed to know where his parents had come from? ‘I meant, out here, it’s more sheep than cattle.’
Oliver flounced away, taking Niki with him. It seemed Bel had unintentionally made fun of poor Oliver on a touchy subject.
‘That’s hilarious, Bel,’ Elijah said, still chuckling.
‘I didn’t mean …’ she started to explain, but he’d walked away.
‘He’ll be fine,’ Tate said lightly. ‘The sheep thing’s been a bit of an ongoing in-joke. Don’t worry about it. So, you’re the Bel that Larkin’s been talking about.’
Bel lifted a dubious eyebrow. She couldn’t think of any situation where Larkin would have been talking about her.
‘We went on a bit of a tour of the area earlier and she mentioned her cousin Bel in a number of stories.’
Bel smiled at that, although she would be surprised if Larkin had told any of these people the more normal childhood things they’d gotten up to. When Larkin would come into town to stay at Gran’s, she’d always reverted back to an ordinary country kid who liked going to the public pool to cool off and staying up late with Bel, giggling and planning their futures when they were supposed to be asleep.
‘That’s me,’ she said.
‘It’s nice to meet you,’ he said.
Bel went to remind him that they’d already met but was interrupted when Gigi walked up and placed a hand on Tate’s arm, looking up at him with sultry eyes. ‘My drink’s empty.’
Bel resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the simpering female. It was so blatantly coy, surely men saw right through it?
‘Then allow me to remedy the situation. I’ll be right back,’ he said, taking Gigi’s empty champagne flute and turning away. He had the same suave, sophisticated air about him that Jax was famous for, and Bel found herself catching her breath.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Gigi said quickly, leaving Bel to stand by herself, feeling more than a little self-conscious. Thankfully, dinner was announced and the crowd began to migrate into the dining room. Much to her delight, as she carefully eased into her seat, Tate appeared beside her. She sent him a nervous smile, silently praying she wouldn’t make a fool of herself.
She’d sat in this room on numerous occasions growing up, mostly for important events like Christmas dinner and birthday celebrations. It was everything a stately Edwardian manor house dining room should be—opulent and rather posh. She’d always felt intimidated by the regal-looking room, but tonight, she was distracted by the man sitting beside her. They weren’t touching, but she swore she could feel his warmth radiating. She listened to the stories being told around the table—none of them having any great meaning to her, as they all related to places and people she didn’t know, but she wasn’t bored in the slightest. She was overly aware of every move Tate made. The tapping of a lean finger on the table, the shifting of his body in his chair, a shuffle of his foot. Her gaze fell to the delicate way he held the shiny silver cutlery in his large hands.
‘Bel?’
She jumped, startled from her thoughts as she blinked up at her cousin.
‘You okay?’ Larkin asked, staring at her with no small degree of concern.
‘Yep. I’m fine. Everything’s fine,’ she stammered, scooting her chair back.
‘We’re all heading into the drawing room. You coming?’
‘Absolutely.’ Bel spoke with forced cheer to cover the fact she’d been lost in rather steamy thoughts.
Larkin hooked her arm through Bel’s as they left the dining room. ‘I know this is a lot,’ she said, lowering her voice, ‘but I really am glad you’re part of all this. It means a lot to me.’
It was easy to forget Larkin’s bridezilla tendencies in these moments, when Bel caught glimpses of the person she knew her cousin was deep down. ‘It’s going to be a beautiful wedding and you will be an utterly stunning bride.’
‘Oh, I know,’ Larkin said lightly.
Annnnnnnd now it’s gone.
A dessert buffet had been laid out, and Bel collected a plate and served herself a piece of pavlova. She carried it past the other bridesmaids, holding her head high as she ignored the pursed lips. She fitted into her dress. If they were worried about eating for the next few days, then that was on them.
Bel sat on the sofa, eating her dessert and ignoring the fact she was once again left hanging like a shag on a rock as the others laughed, drank and danced around her. As she reached to place her empty plate on the table, Bel suddenly felt something snap. Oh no.
She forced herself not to instantly grab hold of the top of the dress and risk drawing attention. Stupid silicon thingies. She could feel her right boob slowly beginning to slide downwards, the sticky cup surrendering what little support it had been giving.
This is not happening. She had to get to the bathroom to try to salvage the situation, but she didn’t want to stand up and make things worse.
‘Is everything okay?’ Bel looked up into a pair of curious blue eyes.
Her gaze roamed across Tate’s broad face and perfectly sculptured cheekbones. Christ, he is beautiful.
‘Bel?’ he asked, sounding slightly more concerned. It was enough to snap her from her trance.
‘I’m fine … I just—’ Do not tell this man that your bra has given out under the weight of your stupid boobs . ‘—have a slight wardrobe malfunction situation.’
‘I see,’ he said, lifting an eyebrow slightly as his eyes briefly dropped to where she held her arms protectively across her chest. ‘Come with me.’ He put a hand out and helped her to her feet, before wrapping an arm around her waist and tucking her close to his side as he led her across the room, to where two other couples were dancing. Tate pulled her in against his body and Bel automatically placed her arm around him and her hand into his, her chest now firmly pressed against his, effectively hiding her torso from the others.
Her previous discomfort was immediately replaced by a sizzling sensation of heat where their bodies connected, and she forgot all about her earlier dilemma. She was in Jax’s freaking arms! No, she quickly amended, Tate, not Jax. This wasn’t some fictional hero from a book. This was an actual, warm blooded, real man. And he was holding her in his arms, moving her across the floor as they swayed to the gentle, romantic music playing on the stereo. All of a sudden, they were close to the doorway and then, before she knew it, Tate was releasing her to walk swiftly down the hallway to a powder room. ‘There you go,’ he said, as she continued to stare up at him, too unable to snap out of the fairytale moment to immediately register where they now were.
‘Oh,’ she mananged. ‘Thank you.’
‘Do you want me to wait out here for you?’
‘Oh. Um, no, thank you. I should be fine.’ She was not fine. Her heart was pounding like she’d run a marathon and her legs felt decidedly jelly-like. Already she missed the warmth of his body.
‘I’ll see you back in the drawing room, then,’ he said and bowed his head slightly. He actually bowed his freaking head, like some rakish hero from a Victorian romance.
Bel closed the door of the powder room and leaned her back against it, closing her eyes as she felt an idiotic grin fill her face. He was everything her foolish romantic heart could ever dream of, and he was real .
She opened her eyes and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were bright and her face was flushed. She still didn’t recognise the woman looking back at her with those well-shaped eyebrows and thick eyelashes that made her eyes seem extra big, an effect amplified by her lack of heavy glasses.
‘New me. New beginning,’ she repeated softly. She could do this. She could step into this new life and be someone else for the next few days. It wouldn’t last—reality would inevitably come crashing in—but, for right now, she could embrace the change and live out a fantasy, then have something to remember once it was all over.
She managed to fix the support issue, but she feared the solution would only be temporary and decided it wasn’t worth the risk of staying too much longer. The party was winding down when she returned anyway, with couples breaking off to talk quietly or dance.
Bel poured herself a coffee from the silver pot sitting on a warmer, then gave the assortment of pastries and after-dinner treats a cursory glance, selecting a dainty custard-filled tart with real flower petals scattered on top. She was trying to decide if she should pick them off when a now familiar voice spoke up from beside her.
‘Apparently they’re edible,’ Tate said quietly. He reached across her, took a number of the tarts and placed them on his plate. ‘I heard the caterer telling your aunt earlier.’
Bel glanced at the plate he was filling with sweets. ‘You must be the only one here who isn’t counting calories.’
‘Life’s too short to count calories.’ He nodded down at her own plate approvingly as she added another item. ‘I like a woman who isn’t afraid to eat.’
‘I love to eat,’ she said, sounding ridiculously eager, then bit down on the inside of her cheek. Just don’t talk! There was less chance of embarrassing herself that way.
‘I figured as much. You were the only woman at the table who cleaned her plate.’
Oh God. He’s been watching me eat? Has everyone else been doing the same thing?
‘Like I said, I appreciate a woman who isn’t afraid to eat more than a salad,’ he said, as though sensing her alarm.
‘I like to think that Uncle Stan’s sheep didn’t die for nothing,’ she quipped.
His chuckle sent a pleasant trickle of warmth down her spine. ‘Do you mind if I sit with you?’
Mind? She was practically jumping out of her skin at the prospect of having more time alone with him. ‘Of course not.’ I want to have your babies. The wayward thought made her start slightly, and she had to grip the coffee cup so as not to spill it. Christ, she hoped she hadn’t said that out loud. A swift glance at him didn’t detect any surprise or disgust on his beautiful face, so she assumed she hadn’t. Then again, maybe he was used to women offering to reproduce with him. ‘How are you finding Wessex?’ she asked. ‘I’m assuming it’s a lot quieter than Sydney?’
‘It’s a lot quieter than anywhere,’ he said drolly, ‘but I live in Perth.’
‘Really?’ Her heart took a nosedive. She’d assumed he’d travelled out from Sydney like the others. But Western Australia? There’d be no chance of ever bumping into him after the wedding. Bold of you to think this guy would ever see you again after the wedding, Perth or not .
‘Yeah. Been over there for the last three years. I love it. Have you ever been?’
‘No,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘You should. The landscape is like nothing you find on this side of the country.’
‘What do you do over there?’
‘I’m in the mining industry, primarily iron ore.’
‘You’re a miner?’
He flashed her a brief smile. ‘No, I’m more corporate. I deal in the business side of things.’
‘Oh.’ Dumb arse , she rebuked herself. As if those hands had ever dug in a freaking mine.
‘How do you know Tristan?’
‘We went to school together.’
That had put the question she’d wondered about to rest—his age. Tristan, she knew from Larkin, was almost thirty. Which made Tate the same age as her. Thank goodness for Larkin’s attraction to older men. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be a cougar quite yet.
‘So, you and Larkin are cousins?’
‘I know, it’s hard to believe. I’m the black sheep of the family.’
Tate sent her a strange look. ‘Black sheep? How so?’
‘I mean, Larkin is … well, Larkin . She’s got the looks and the talent … the ambition,’ Bel said. ‘And I’m just … me.’
‘You don’t think you’re as beautiful as Larkin?’
His question made her give him a double-take. ‘No.’
‘Seriously?’
Bel wanted to laugh at him, but he looked genuinely confused.
‘I don’t normally look like this,’ she said, swallowing hard.
‘How do you normally look?’ he asked with a teasing glint in his eye.
He didn’t recognise her. He had no idea she was the woman who’d served him and made an absolute idiot of herself that first day. Part of her was high-fiving at the realisation she now had a clean slate, but a small part of her was asking how he could not know. She hadn’t changed that much, surely?
She pushed the question away and decided to take the small win. He had no idea she was that fumbling, awkward woman. His only knowledge of her was here and now, in her new, albeit somewhat temporary, skin. She was a new woman, for all intents and purposes. She didn’t have to be lonely, romance-reading Bel. For a little while, she could be better-hair, nicer-clothes, more-worldly Bel instead.
She glanced at her watch and reality knocked on her door. It was almost midnight.
‘I have to go,’ she said, placing her empty plate on the table.
‘You’re not staying out here?’
‘No, I have my own place in town.’
‘It’s still early. You can’t stay and have a drink?’
‘I have to drive. But there’s still the practice dinner and the pre-wedding rehearsal and the pre-pre-wedding dinner.’ She smiled, rolling her eyes at the ridiculous number of social functions Larkin had scheduled.
‘I’ll walk you out,’ he said.
Bel said her goodnights to Larkin and her uncle and aunt, declining Larkin’s invitation to stay, and slipped out of the room just as a debate started up about climate change, distracting everyone.
They came to a stop by her car. ‘Thank you for your help earlier,’ Bel mumbled, feeling the heat beginning to creep its way up her throat.
‘Glad I could help,’ he said, sending her a grin that made her almost forget her name.
‘I better go.’ She turned just as he leaned forward, managing to bang her head against his chin. ‘Ouch!’
‘Sorry!’ They said it at the same time, as Bel rubbed her forehead. Jesus, is his jaw made of titanium?
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine. Goodnight,’ she said, opening her door quickly.
Had he been about to kiss her? You absolute moron! What if he had been? No, surely not. That would be …
She glanced in the rear-view mirror as she drove away. Tate was still standing, tall and broad-shouldered, watching her.
Oh. Dear. Lord.