The Wedding Date by Jennifer Joyce Read Free Book Online

shakes his glass again. ‘So you’d better go and chat to Dan then. Grab us a pint while you’re there.’
    Mentally prising away the fear glue, I force my body out of the chair and make my way to the bar, which has filled up considerably. The landlord has jumped behind the bar to help out, meaning I’m in danger of being served by Colin instead of Dan so I hang back, pretending to study the lunch menu scrawled on the board beside the bar.
    ‘You’re a bit late for food,’ Dan says, leaning his elbow on the bar. ‘Can I offer you a packet of nuts instead? Or a packet of cheese and onion?’
    You can offer me much more than that, me laddo.
    ‘Oh, no. Thank you. I’m not hungry.’ It takes an age to spit that handful of words out. I’m suddenly tongue-tied and flustered, the flirty side of me overshadowed by nerves. Can I really do this? Can I bag myself a date with Dan the Barman?
    ‘Thirsty then? Because I don’t have much more to offer.’
    I bet you do, tiger. Let’s start with those skinny jeans. Get them off, right now.
    ‘Um, yeah. Two pints and a red wine please.’
    Why am I such a dweeb? It’s not usually like this between us, I swear. It’s the pressure. It’s putting me off my stride.
    ‘How did you do last night?’ Dan has grabbed a couple of pint glasses and is busy filling one with lager.
    ‘Do?’
    ‘The quiz.’ Dan nods towards the back of the pub, where The Know It Ales are still celebrating their victory twenty-four hours later. Smug gits.
    ‘Oh. Terrible. Really terrible.’ There’s no point sugar-coating it. Everybody knows we’re never destined to make it any further than the very bottom of the leader board.
    ‘Never mind.’ Dan places one full glass on the bar and starts to fill the other. ‘Did you have a good weekend otherwise?’
    ‘Yeah, pretty good.’ I hope Dan doesn’t ask me to elaborate. Other than taking part in the pub quiz, I’d done little more than lounge in my pyjamas and watch a film with my folks. Mum let me choose a musical for us to watch, as long as it was either ‘Annie’ or ‘The King and I’ so she could gush over the shiny heads of Daddy Warbucks or King Mongkut of Siam (she has an obsession with bald celebrities). I don’t want to tell Dan this, obviously, as I need to appear fun and alluring if I want to secure a date.
    ‘You?’ It’s better to steer the focus away from myself and my rather sad weekend. And quickly.
    ‘I was working mostly. It’s lucky I love my job, hey?’ Dan winks at me as he places the second pint on the bar. He turns away from me to pour Lauren’s glass of red wine. I don’t have long left. In a few seconds I will pay up and return to my table dateless.
    ‘What do you like to do when you’re not working?’ Please say something interesting. Don’t be a stamp collector or a wanderer of antique markets (apologies if you are either of these things, but they don’t float my boat and I don’t think I have it in me to pretend convincingly).
    ‘I’m in a band.’
    Oh. That’s pretty cool, actually. ‘What do you play?’
    ‘Drums.’
    I picture Harry Judd from McFly. Nice. Very nice. ‘Are you any good?’
    ‘Me or the band?’
    I hand over the money and give what I hope is a coy one-shouldered shrug. ‘Both.’
    Dan smiles. His eyes crinkle up and an adorable dimple appears in his right cheek. Swoontastic, right? ‘We’re pretty good. At least I think so. You should come and hear us play some time.’
    ‘I’d love to.’ I probably answer a tad too quickly. He’s barely finished his sentence, which makes me appear overly keen, but so what? Dan has asked me out – sort of – which is exactly what I want.
    ‘Great. We’re playing The Wheatsheaf on Bolan Street on Friday. Do you know it?’
    ‘Yes.’ I will Google Map it. ‘What time?’
    ‘We start at nine but we’ll be there earlier than that if you’d like to meet for a drink before.’
    Yes, yes, yes!
    Delilah James, you have yourself a