Hitched! by Jessica Hart Read Free Book Online

in
exactly the right way to build something solid and functional. Something that
would stay where you left it and still be there when you went back at the end of
the day.
    Dropping into the chair across the table from him, I pushed my
hair wearily behind my ears.
    ‘Tired?’
    ‘One of those days,’ I said, ‘and it didn’t help that Saffron
kept me up until the small hours yakking about how excited she was about the
party. Thanks for that great idea!’ I added sarcastically to George, who lifted
the mug in acknowledgement.
    ‘Anything to help.’ He let his chair—my chair!—fall back to the
floor. ‘I’m sorry if Saffron got carried away, but it was a spur of the moment
thing. You looked as if you could do with some support and it was the best I
could think of.’
    ‘An Edwardian-themed house party? I’d hate to hear how
elaborate your well-thought-out ideas are!’
    ‘Come on, it’s better than you running up and down to London,
isn’t it?’
    ‘I suppose so.’
    It occurred to me that it was nice to have someone to talk to
when I came in at the end of the day, but I pushed the thought firmly aside. I
pointed a finger at George instead. ‘But you’re going to help! I hold you
entirely responsible for the whole thing. If it wasn’t for you, I could have got
away with a couple of cocktails at a male stripper bar.’
    George linked his hands behind his head and suppressed a smile.
‘Would that have been more your thing?’
    ‘Oh, all right, I’d have hated that too, but at least it would
have been over quickly.’ I hunched a shoulder. ‘I’m dreading this house party
already. I hate parties.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘I never feel I belong,’ I said, remembering those awful
parties my father had made me go to. One awful party in particular. ‘I don’t
seem to fit in anywhere. I never have. Life with Mum was worlds apart from the
life I had in my father’s house, and after a while I didn’t belong in either of
them. It’s always been like that,’ I said.
    I didn’t expect George to understand. He was the guy at the
centre of any party, the one everyone revolved around, the one who made the
party start just by walking in the door.
    ‘Saffron’s friends all think I’m weird,’ I added glumly. ‘We’ve
got absolutely nothing to say to each other. Still.’ I put my hands on my thighs
and made an effort to rouse myself. ‘It’s only one weekend and it’s what Saffron
wants. I just need to make a plan.’
    ‘Well, I don’t mind helping you with that,’ said George. ‘Let’s
do it in the pub.’
    ‘I don’t know...’
    ‘Oh, come on, it’s the least I can do to make up for landing
you with a party to organise in the first place,’ he cajoled. ‘It’s not like a
date, in case you’re still wondering if I’m going to turn into that weirdo you
were so concerned about! Think of it as repayment for the tea.’ He saw me
hesitating. ‘And it’s a lovely evening.’
    It was. The earlier clouds had cleared to leave a sky flushed
with the promise of spring, and the air was soft and enticing. In spite of
myself, I glanced longingly out of the window.
    There was no use pretending that I wasn’t tempted. ‘All right.’
I looked down at my black trousers and the taupe jacket I wore over a
long-sleeved T shirt. ‘Give me five minutes to change.’
    When I went back into the kitchen, I was pulling a cardigan
over a simple blue T-shirt, and George’s brows lifted at the sight of the
mint-green skirt that stopped just above my knees. He got to his feet, eyeing my
legs with undisguised appreciation.
    ‘You look nice,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen your legs
before.’
    I tugged down my sleeves in a self-conscious gesture, and
willed the stupid flush to fade from my cheeks. ‘I always wear trousers for
work.’
    ‘I can see why. It would be far too distracting for your
colleagues, otherwise.’
    ‘I shouldn’t have to worry about what I’m wearing,’ I said
grouchily, mainly because I