CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE – SYLVIE #2
“Then they’re all yours.” He touched his lips to mine, then slid his hands down and linked our fingers. “And since you’re a part of it now, you can help me wrap my Christmas presents.”
I sighed when he pulled me away from the desk. “There’s always a catch with you.”
***
“Do you never close your curtains?” I mumbled, pulling the covers over my face as sunlight filtered in through the monstrous gap between the drapes.
“Every night,” Thomas said, finally pulling them together. “But I was a bit too busy last night.”
I grunted and rolled over, peeking out from above the top of the duvet. “Why are you up and dressed so early?”
“Early?” He raised his eyebrows. “It’s almost nine.”
“Nine? In the morning?” I shot up to sitting, and the covers fell to my lap, exposing my bare chest.
Thomas’ gaze dropped.
I grabbed the quilt and tucked it around myself, cutting off his line of sight. “I have a shit ton of things to do today. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because dying by your hand isn’t on my own to-do list?” He smirked and pulled a jumper over his head. “Did you drive here yesterday or come back with Mum?”
I yawned and stretched my arms out in front of me, stopping halfway before I exposed myself again. “I drove. Where are my clothes?”
He gathered some pyjamas from the chair and tossed them next to me on the bed. “Wear these for now. Mum left not long ago, so I think she’s heading to your house to get your stuff.”
“I can’t. I have a video call with a client in half an hour. I’ll just put on what I wore yesterday.” I jumped out of bed and hunted my clothes down from the other side of the room. The thought of putting on dirty underwear made me wince, but that was what I got for not going home.
At least I had my laptop with me.
One of the perks of never going anywhere without it.
“You can use my office if you want. Nobody will bother you there.”
I paused. “Thanks, but I was just going to sit out of the way.”
“What, in the kitchen? With Danny running in and out of there like a little hooligan? School’s out now, you know.”
Ah.
Yeah.
That would get in the way somewhat.
“Then, if you don’t mind, I’ll take over your office for a while this morning.”
Thomas grinned. “If I minded, I wouldn’t have offered it.” He walked over to me and kissed the side of my head. “I have to run. We have a load of coal deliveries to make today. Try not to kill your sister if you have to speak to her.”
“I’m not making any promises,” I replied, tugging up my jeans. “She’s just about exhausted my goodwill. I feel myself creeping scarily into your little Ebenezer Scrooge territory thanks to all her nonsense.”
“Until you see a Christmas tree with twinkling lights, and you’ll be right as rain again.”
Well, yes.
Twinkly lights did tend to have that effect on me.
“That’s just part of my charm.” I flipped my hair over my shoulders and sank my fingers into it. They snagged on endless knots, and I groaned, desperately tugging at them to release them without any luck.
Thomas handed me a brush.
“Where did that come from?” I asked, staring at it.
“A factory, probably.” He grinned, and it widened when I met his gaze with a flat stare. “Tough crowd.”
“Tom?”
“Yes?”
“Go to work.”
He laughed, put the brush in my hand, and kissed my forehead once more. “I’ll see you later. Again, try not to kill your bride, all right?”
“You can say that fifty times and I’m still not promising anything.” I turned to the mirror and set about brushing the knots from my hair. “But if the worst does happen, I’ll be calling you to come and bail me out.”
“Noted. I’ll make sure there’s money ready to save you.”
I caught a flash of his grin in the mirror before he disappeared out of the door, leaving me to battle my mane on my own.
I tugged the brush through one last tangle and sighed, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
There was no denying it—I looked exhausted. Which was fitting, considering that was exactly how I felt, but this wedding had truly drained me in ways I never had expected. Ways I’d never experienced before.
I guess this was why my first boss told me she’d never plan a wedding for anyone close to her.
This would be the first and last time, that was for sure.
My phone pinged from the bedside table, and I sat down on the edge of the bed as I grabbed it. Two unread messages from Julian were the top notification, and I unlocked my phone so I could see what he wanted.
JULIAN: 1: Decorations ordered. Mum is collecting them tomorrow and putting them in your grandfather’s garage before 2pm. 2: Our first dance will be Unbreakable by Westlife. 3: I told your aunt it’s too late to change the seating plan so she can either suck it up or not come at all.
JULIAN: 4: Nana went on a bit of a rampage and gave both Hazel and your mum the biggest bollocking I’ve ever seen. Even I apologised, and I haven’t done anything wrong.
A huge laugh bubbled out of me, and I collapsed back onto the bed, throwing my arm over my eyes. I could only picture him sitting on the sofa sheepishly, constantly saying sorry for things he hadn’t done and would never do.
And finally.
The information I needed.
ME: Thank you. I appreciate that.
JULIAN: If you need anything, call me instead of Hazel. Are you doing ok?
ME: Yeah. I’m going to stay at Castleton Manor until the 23rd. Is Hazel all right?
JULIAN: She had a bit of a fit last night after Nana’s rant, but she came around pretty quickly when she realised I wasn’t siding with her.
ME: You didn’t argue, did you?
JULIAN: No. Even she gives in when she realises she’s wrong, you know?
ME: Not in my experience.
JULIAN: Well, she does. She just wants to know if you’re still spending the night before the wedding with her.
I sighed.
ME: Of course, I am.
JULIAN: That’s what I told her.
JULIAN: But for now, it might be best you don’t speak unless absolutely necessary.
I sat up and stared at my screen. He was right. I knew he was right. Heck, that’s what I wanted to do, but this was supposed to be a magical time with my baby sister right before she got married.
Still… Sometimes, the hard decisions were the best ones.
ME: I’ll forward you a copy of her appointment schedule for the next few days. Amy will be fine handling the MOH duties while I’m planning. We had this figured out anyway.
JULIAN: Got it. Are you sure you’re all right?
ME: Perfectly fine.
And I was. Or I would be.
Every wedding had its dramas. There was no such thing as a perfect wedding. Something went wrong every single time, and god only knew that Hazel and Julian’s day had had more than their fair share of fuck ups already.
What else could possibly—
Actually, scratch that.
I wasn’t even going to ask.
I knew far, far better than to so blatantly tempt fate.