Chapter 1

Paisley

“What are you doing here?”

“Flora sent me.”

I scan the area as if my sister is suddenly going to appear, like she’ll jump out and tell me this is some huge practical joke. She doesn’t, and I’m instantly pissed at her for not doing so, for the fact this might actually be serious, and I’m stuck with the most unreliable person on the planet to help get my sister’s wedding back on track.

I know, I know, I shouldn’t be mad at her. She didn’t ask to be stranded in a hotel room a thousand miles away with no way home, and it’s not her fault some damn volcano chose this exact week to erupt after being dormant for two hundred years. But him, if she sent him, he is her fault. And that I can be mad at. Because she knows how I feel about Jack Parker.

Which is exactly why she wouldn’t send him. She just wouldn’t.

“I don’t think my sister would want you anywhere near me,” I say, confident in our sisterly bond.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Paisley. Elliot suggested you might need some help, and me being the best man, Flora said it seemed I was the best man for the job. You see what I did there?”

I ignore the dodgy joke completely. “There’s no way Flora said that. At all.”

“She said it made sense, that it would be good for us to catch up.”

“She said what?”

“That it—”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time.”

This is not happening. I can’t fix things with this idiot by my side, he’s going to make everything twice as hard. If not more. I press my fingers into my eyes, massage my temples, and wonder how I ended up here.

Actually, I know how I ended up here. My sister called early yesterday morning, peered out from my phone screen, all puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, sobbed for nearly ten whole minutes before she managed to get out what had happened. I knew it was bad from the number of tissues strewn all over the stunning hotel room backdrop, but I hadn’t realised it would lead me here.

“It’s gone, it’s all gone,” she’d wailed, eventually finding her words.

And there were a lot of them. She’d had several calls while on her pre-wedding mini-break, each making it less relaxing than the last. The florist, the caterer, the venue, the band. Of course, I blindly promised her everything would be okay.

I just hope I’ve not made promises I can’t keep. It really has all gone to shit. So many things have gone unbelievably wrong, that to be honest, there’s not really a wedding left, let alone one that’s meant to happen in a week.

But she sent a mayday to me and her three best friends, and apparently only I could be bothered. Which I’ll be having words with them about when I see them next. Okay, so Maria is eight months pregnant, but the other two – laziness personified. They’re her best friends, so why am I the only one standing here with this idiot?

I refuse to let my baby sister’s wedding day be ruined. I’d do anything for her. Sadly, that seems to involve working with the man who let me down in the biggest way possible back in college. Except, it doesn’t. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to.

“You’re not helping me plan this wedding,” I state, spinning on my heel and strutting off across the large hall.

“I think you mean re-plan this wedding,” he calls.

I stop at the door. “You’ve not changed at all.”

“How would you know? You got out of this town as soon as you could,” he says as he wanders casually toward me, all dark jeans and crisp white shirt. He’s completely relaxed, no rush, no hurry, no urgency in his gait whatsoever. He’d be completely useless to me.

“And you’re still a dickhead. All the ability and none of the follow through, wasn’t that what all your school reports said growing up? Guess that’s still true.”

“You think I’m smart?”

“A smart arse, maybe,” I reply, frustration bubbling.

“It’s okay, you can admit I’m intelligent.”

“If you’d listened, I said that’s what your school reports said. Your intellect has never been called into question, it’s just the twattishness that goes along with it I object to.”

“You know that’s not a word, right?”

“What are you, the dictionary police?”

“Maybe. Wanna see my handcuffs?”

I can’t listen to him anymore, can’t look at him either. Whenever I do, memories rush in, wave after wave flooding my mind.

“I need to find a new venue and standing here doing this with you isn’t getting Flora the wedding she deserves.”

“Elliott filled me in on what’s happened, said you were coming here today. Let me help. Please.”

“Jack, go home.”

“I’ll do you a deal,” he says, moving in close. “If I can find you a venue in one phone call, you let me help with the rest of it.”

I wish he wouldn’t stand so close, all dark lashes over emerald eyes and effortless cool with leather jacket hooked over his shoulder.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Really? And what’s this, the fourth, fifth place you’ve tried?”

Anxiety pounds in my chest. Fifth? If only. “Eleventh,” I admit quietly.

“Then let me help. One phone call, that’s all. If I fail, if you’re not happy, I walk away, and you can plan this all on your own. I’ll even drive you back to Flora and Elliot’s. That’s where you’re staying, right?”

He’ll never find somewhere in one call. And it has to be a specific date – May Day. The day her and Elliot had their first date two years ago.

“Fine,” I say with a shake of my head, disbelief at letting him be involved.

“Perfect. Come on.”

He pulls out his phone, slips past me, and heads outside. I glance back across the hall before I follow him. High ceilings and marble floors, the picture of elegance. It really would have been perfect. This was the last venue on my list though, nothing else like this exists within the area we need.

Stepping outside, I see Jack pacing the pavement at the bottom of the stone steps. Animated, he chatters into his phone, reminds me of the Jack I knew years ago, friendly, personable, the Jack he was before it all changed. Before he changed. The odd word drifts up to meet me and I try to listen, but there’s a lawnmower rumbling somewhere, a crow too, cawing and squawking, and I just can’t tune my ears to what he’s saying.

Just five minutes later and he bounds back up the steps to where I’ve now taken a seat.

He looks remarkably pleased with himself. “Right, we’re going to view somewhere.”

We are? I’m instantly suspicious it’s going to be some dodgy venue in the arse-end of nowhere. This is Jack, after all.

“I’ll call a cab, where are we going?”

“I’ve got a car, and anyway, it’s a surprise.”

Do I want to get in a car with the man who broke my heart? Not really. But Flora and her wedding is more important than me right now. Suck it up Paisley.