“I’m sorry,” I said, addressing Barb. “Tessa’s worked every hour God gave her for the past week to make this wedding the fairytale Violet and Archer want. She’s running on fumes.” A tremble ran through Tessa, and I didn’t know if it was from fear of being exposed as a liar or because of our proximity to each other. “But,” I continued,” I’m here to take some of the pressure off, aren’t I, love bug?”
Tessa swallowed hard, the color draining from her face. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I guess you are.”
Barb raised the vape pen to her lips and puffed furiously. “Save the lovey-dovey stuff for another time. Come this weekend you and your work will be on the world stage—” she punctuated each syllable with a jab of her finger and walked toward the office followed closely by Brendan “—and that includes anything that goes wrong.”
Tessa untangled herself from my arms and followed Barb into the office. The heat of her body lingered on my palm, and I ached to curl my arm around her again.
“I want an update and an agenda ahh-sap,” Barb said in between puffs. “And I need wine. Red. Pinot Noir. Think you can arrange that, Mr. McCabe, or is this place too backward? Why Violet wants to get married here is beyond me.”
“I’ll arrange it for you right now.” A smile stretched Brendan’s lips. “If you fancy it, I’ll give you a tour of the wine cellar. It’s well-stocked.”
“No, I don’t ‘fancy’ it. If I wanted a tour of the wine cellar, I would’ve asked.”
When Barb turned toward the snow-speckled window, Brendan gave her a one-fingered salute.
“I can see your reflection, idiot,” Barb snapped, but I didn’t miss the soft chuckle in her words.
Brendan flinched and rushed out of the room. Why had he agreed to hold the wedding here? Tessa had probably promised him a pot of gold, or maybe he was in on the extortion plan too? I hoped not. Brendan seemed like the salt-of-the-earth kind who wanted nothing more than for everyone to be happy. Plus, he’d been genuinely pleased to meet me when I’d introduced myself.
I shrugged off my overcoat and slung it over the back of a threadbare chair, which at one time might have been green, possibly blue.
The scent of Tessa’s perfume floated upward from where it clung to the fibers of my coat, and the throb in my crotch threatened to overtake my brain. I needed to get away from her to clear the fog rolling through my head. The effect she had on me wasn’t a welcome one.
“Actually,” I said, moving toward the door. “I’ll go talk with the contractors while you two ladies chat about dresses and cakes.”
“Condescend much?” Tessa raised an eyebrow.
“Have I ever told you how much I love your fiery temper?” I moved forward, lowered my lips, and skimmed a kiss over her forehead. “Don’t miss me too much.”
“It’s safe to say I won’t. And be careful. I wouldn’t want you to do something stupid like touch a live wire or fall off a ladder.” She ironed her hands over my shoulders, and I imagined her clawing her nails into my skin while my head was buried between her shapely legs.
“Ay yai yai.” Barb drummed her red-taloned fingers over the screen of her phone. “If I have to spend the rest of the week with Romeo and Juliet, I’ll stab myself with a blunt butter knife. You, Romeo, go talk to the contractors. Don’t forget to tell them honeysuckle pink paint. You, Juliet, get me the chef. Violet’s extremely particular about what she puts in her body.”
“As I stated in my email last week,” Tessa said, turning to face Barb, “I’ve secured Tyrone White, a Michelin-starred chef, who’s sourced the best organic food Ireland has to offer. We’ve a tasting scheduled for one this afternoon at his restaurant. We should probably leave within the next thirty minutes if we want to make it on time.”
At the mention of food, my stomach grumbled. I’d eaten nothing since the congealed Aer Lingus chicken and rice dish over ten hours ago. “How could I forget about the tasting? I’ll meet you outside.”
Tessa pivoted on her heels and glowered. “But, darling, aren’t you going to talk to the contractors to make sure they do everything as discussed? The correct shade of pink is vital. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“But, darling, since it’s the same chef who’s catering our wedding, don’t you think we should taste the food together?”
“We’ve planned a different menu.”
“For Pete’s sake,” Barb bit out. “You’re making me want to hurl. It’s snowing. I’m freezing, and I’m not going anywhere. Bring the chef to me.”
“But it’s already been arranged,” Tessa protested. “He’s expecting us.”
“Then he can unexpect us when you unarrange it. I want him here. Got it?”
“Yes. Sure. No problem.” The corners of Tessa’s lips lifted up with a forced smile.
She was a regular little miss people pleaser, wasn’t she? Doing and saying anything to keep the peace. I could learn a few things from watching a professional swindler like her in action.
“And for the remainder of the week,” Barb said, the vape pen bobbing between her lips. “You’re both staying at the castle. I want you close by in case anything goes wrong.”
“I can’t stay here.” A deep groove creviced the area between Tessa’s eyes, and underlying panic laced her voice. “I don’t have anything with me. Clothes. Toothbrush.”
Staying at the castle wasn’t something I’d planned, either. I’d planned on surprising my mother by showing up unannounced, but since I hadn’t told my parents I
