Page 2 of The Brit and the Bridesmaid (Sweet Treat Novellas #1)

M att grabbed a cold bottle of beer from the fridge before stepping through the glass doors onto the balcony of his flat.

His neighbor was out, watering the impressive herb garden he’d cultivated on his own balcony.

Barney had a green thumb, a talent he’d carefully cultivated over his seventy-some-odd years of life.

“Good evening, Barney,” he said as he sat in his Adirondack chair. “Your garden is coming along nicely.”

Barney’s wrinkles clearly showed he’d spent his life happy. “You always speak so proper. Makes me feel like I should be bowing or something.”

“You forget, I’m an American citizen now.” He raised his bottle as if making a toast. “No more bowing for this bloke.”

“Americans don’t say ‘bloke,’” Barney warned him.

Matt leaned back, settling in for a relaxing evening in the cool spring air. “I thought American citizens had the right to say anything they wanted—that bit was on the test, you know.”

Barney pointed at him with his gardening clippers. “You can say anything at all, but you might get beat up for it.”

Matt nodded. “We do that in England, as well.”

He enjoyed their chats. Barney had been the one to start them not long after Matt moved in. They spent quite a few evenings talking across the small space that separated their balconies. He was grateful for the friendship.

“How was your day?” Barney asked, snipping expertly at one of his plants.

“Not bad at all. I booked a wedding for late June.”

Barney nodded slowly, his eyes not straying from his task. “A June wedding.”

“I know it’s very cliché, but I have my suspicions that this particular bride is very... particular.”

Matt had learned a thing or two about dealing with dreamers and bridezillas.

He was certain Caroline Grover fell in the dreamer category.

She knew exactly what she wanted on her wedding day, and that she was nearly panicked at the thought that something might go wrong or deviate from her imaginings. He’d worked with that before.

“She had a sister, though, who was...” He couldn’t quite put a word to Abby Grover.

She’d clearly been annoyed. She’d also sent her sister more than a few looks of exasperated affection.

Abby had managed to toss more than a few zingers during their interview and subsequent tour. “She was intriguing.”

“Was she?” Barney was either laughing at him or... No. He was definitely laughing.

Matt grinned back. “Not that anything will come of it. She made her dislike of me very clear. I don’t know what, exactly, I did to put her off me so immediately.”

“Were you wearing that monkey suit of yours?”

Matt chuckled. He knew exactly what Barney was getting at. “I have to wear a suit and tie to work— it’s my uniform. Besides, I don’t think I look so terrible in a suit.”

Barney snipped a rosemary plant. “Not terrible, but it does make you look like a yuppie.”

“A yuppie? Is that an American thing?”

“It means square. You look square.”

“Square?” Matt hadn’t heard of that one, either.

“Stuffy,” Barney tried again.

“Ah.” That was a word he understood. “People will think I’m trying to be posh.”

Barney took a long drink of water from the bottle he always kept nearby while he gardened, all the while giving him a look of confusion.

“When I came to the States, I didn’t expect a language barrier.

” Adjusting to the odd quirks of the American culture had been harder than he’d expected.

Still, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

One of things he liked most about living in America was how diverse the place was, how different people could be one to the next.

“Tell me more about this intriguing woman,” Barney said. He turned a bit toward Matt, shifting around on the short stool he always sat on while tending his plants. It was nice of the old man to humor him, but Matt had no intention of boring him to death.

“You don’t really want to hear about some random person I met.”

Barney let his gloved hands rest against his legs. His expression turned thoughtful. “My wife was... intriguing.” His smile softened and spread. “Always kept me wondering. I loved that about her.” Barney looked across at Matt. “So, yes, I want to hear about this random, intriguing woman you met.”

Matt often got the impression that Barney was lonely. He could indulge him in this. “Her name is Abby. She’s pretty, but not in a movie-star or super-model way.”

“A natural beauty,” Barney suggested.

“Exactly.” He’d especially liked the hint of freckles across her nose. “And I could tell she was annoyed by the entire wedding planning thing, but she put up with it, not poking fun at her sister for her ridiculous demands.”

Barney raised a bushy white eyebrow. “More ridiculous than some of the demands you’ve told me about?”

There had been some unbelievable brides and mothers- and fathers-of-the-bride over the five years Matt had worked at Sainsbury House. It was always a juggling act to keep them happy while trying to reacquaint them with reality.

“This bride wants a historic British wedding fresh out of a television drama.” She hadn’t said as much outright, but Matt had quickly gotten the gist.

“I bet she just ate you up then.” Barney chuckled deep in his chest.

Matt grinned. He’d seen her glee when she realized she’d found someone in Oregon with an English accent. Caroline Grover had thrown in more cliché British words and phrases than Matt had heard on his last trip back to London.

“Abby was patient with her sister, which was admirable. But she made some of the funniest comments under her breath.”

“So she has a sense of humor.” Barney nodded his approval.

“And she asked all of the questions her sister should have been asking but was too high in the clouds to think of.”

“So she’s smart on top of it all.” Barney gave him a wizened look. “This one is intriguing.”

“I confess, I’m hoping she handles more of the arrangements than her sister does.”

Barney set his gardening sheers aside and leaned his arms along the balcony railing, facing Matt. “You plan to see her again?”

“If she comes by.”

Barney was obviously unimpressed. “When a woman like that walks into your life, Matt, you don’t casually let her walk back out.”

“I don’t have her contact information.”

Barney wasn’t discouraged by that at all. “You have the sister’s information.”

“It doesn’t work that way. I don’t call up clients to ask out their family members.”

Barney stood up from his stool, waving off Matt’s words like a pesky fly. “You’ll think of something.

Matt did think about it as he sat watching the sunset color the sky. Abby Grover wouldn’t entirely leave his thoughts. He wanted to see her again, if nothing else to discover if she hated him as much as she’d seemed to. And why. And whether he could do anything to change that.

Intriguing didn’t even begin to describe her.