the champagne," Matt said with a grin as he grabbed the bottle and led the way.
James followed him and took a seat opposite Jess so he could keep an eye on the door. As they talked dates and venues, he let the conversation wash over him; he had nothing useful to add. Besides, he was far too busy watching the door to concentrate on what they were saying.
Rob joined them and then John. Some other friends of Matt's who James hadn't met turned up, as well as some women Emma knew who kept throwing not-so-subtle looks his way.
He was about to give up hope and see if he could slip out without anyone noticing when she walked in. And the sight of her made it more than worth the wait. Skinny jeans clung to her legs, and by the looks she received as she walked past, they showcased her arse spectacularly too. A white top showed off a hint of cleavage and the black bra she wore beneath it. Curled around her neck was a scarf that made him imagine all the uses he could put it to, and his dick twitched.
He started to stand as she reached their table, smiling up at her, until she glared and turned her back to him. What the fuck? What had he done to earn that look?
***
Vicky paused, her hand flat against the pub door. Taking in a deep breath, she told herself she could do this. James would very probably be in there. She hadn't spoken to him since that text. But he hadn't tried to contact her since, and well, she just didn't know how she felt. And to be honest, she was more bothered by the fact she'd had that same vision from Monday every night that week.
Apart from briefly talking to her mum, she hadn't told anyone about it. Emma had been so caught up in her engagement—and rightly so—that Vicky didn't want to bring her down. And who else was she going to talk to? She'd considered Jess but, as much as Vicky liked her, they weren't that close. Matt? The same reason as Jess. There was no way she would talk to James about it. That would be a real ego stroke for him.
"Oh, yeah, did I not mention I've been dreaming about you every night?" So not going to happen . But there she was, and she'd have to see him. When all she really wanted was to wish Emma well and then get so drunk, she could forget about everything else, for one night at least.
Pushing the door open, she purposely strode through the pub to where Emma had said they would be. As she climbed the stairs to the roped-off area, she saw James. When he noticed her, he started to smile. The same smile he'd worn as he discussed his unborn child with another woman. And she knew it was ridiculous, but she wanted to wipe that smile off his face. Scowling, she turned her back on him, not wanting even to look at him right then.
Emma pulled her into a hug, and she quickly rearranged her face into a smile. It's supposed to be a celebration, remember? "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you both."
"Thank you, thank you. There's champagne over there. Help yourself to a glass and then come join us."
Vicky did as she was told, pouring herself a large glass. Angling herself so she didn't have to look at James, she took a seat by Emma and tried to join in the discussion of wedding dress styles. But honestly, who cared? Emma should wear whatever she wanted to; it was her wedding, after all. And Vicky didn't have a clue between sweetheart and illusion necklines. Hairstyles, now that she knew about.
After several glasses of champagne, she gave up trying to join in and just listened. Emma sounded happy, and that was really all Vicky needed to know. Clumsily, she got to her feet and weaved her way to the ladies' room. When she walked back out, someone grabbed her arm and dragged her backwards into the darkened corner.
Vicky opened her mouth to scream, a puff of warm air blew over her ear as a hand clamped over her lips. She could tell by the smell of bittersweet coffee mingled with beer that it was James.
"Don't say a word. Just hear me out." He pressed her back against the wall and caged
James followed him and took a seat opposite Jess so he could keep an eye on the door. As they talked dates and venues, he let the conversation wash over him; he had nothing useful to add. Besides, he was far too busy watching the door to concentrate on what they were saying.
Rob joined them and then John. Some other friends of Matt's who James hadn't met turned up, as well as some women Emma knew who kept throwing not-so-subtle looks his way.
He was about to give up hope and see if he could slip out without anyone noticing when she walked in. And the sight of her made it more than worth the wait. Skinny jeans clung to her legs, and by the looks she received as she walked past, they showcased her arse spectacularly too. A white top showed off a hint of cleavage and the black bra she wore beneath it. Curled around her neck was a scarf that made him imagine all the uses he could put it to, and his dick twitched.
He started to stand as she reached their table, smiling up at her, until she glared and turned her back to him. What the fuck? What had he done to earn that look?
***
Vicky paused, her hand flat against the pub door. Taking in a deep breath, she told herself she could do this. James would very probably be in there. She hadn't spoken to him since that text. But he hadn't tried to contact her since, and well, she just didn't know how she felt. And to be honest, she was more bothered by the fact she'd had that same vision from Monday every night that week.
Apart from briefly talking to her mum, she hadn't told anyone about it. Emma had been so caught up in her engagement—and rightly so—that Vicky didn't want to bring her down. And who else was she going to talk to? She'd considered Jess but, as much as Vicky liked her, they weren't that close. Matt? The same reason as Jess. There was no way she would talk to James about it. That would be a real ego stroke for him.
"Oh, yeah, did I not mention I've been dreaming about you every night?" So not going to happen . But there she was, and she'd have to see him. When all she really wanted was to wish Emma well and then get so drunk, she could forget about everything else, for one night at least.
Pushing the door open, she purposely strode through the pub to where Emma had said they would be. As she climbed the stairs to the roped-off area, she saw James. When he noticed her, he started to smile. The same smile he'd worn as he discussed his unborn child with another woman. And she knew it was ridiculous, but she wanted to wipe that smile off his face. Scowling, she turned her back on him, not wanting even to look at him right then.
Emma pulled her into a hug, and she quickly rearranged her face into a smile. It's supposed to be a celebration, remember? "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you both."
"Thank you, thank you. There's champagne over there. Help yourself to a glass and then come join us."
Vicky did as she was told, pouring herself a large glass. Angling herself so she didn't have to look at James, she took a seat by Emma and tried to join in the discussion of wedding dress styles. But honestly, who cared? Emma should wear whatever she wanted to; it was her wedding, after all. And Vicky didn't have a clue between sweetheart and illusion necklines. Hairstyles, now that she knew about.
After several glasses of champagne, she gave up trying to join in and just listened. Emma sounded happy, and that was really all Vicky needed to know. Clumsily, she got to her feet and weaved her way to the ladies' room. When she walked back out, someone grabbed her arm and dragged her backwards into the darkened corner.
Vicky opened her mouth to scream, a puff of warm air blew over her ear as a hand clamped over her lips. She could tell by the smell of bittersweet coffee mingled with beer that it was James.
"Don't say a word. Just hear me out." He pressed her back against the wall and caged
Similar Books
