Page 9 of The Brit and the Bridesmaid (Sweet Treat Novellas #1)

She was halfway to his door before the realization hit her that if she really thought he was a complete jerk, she wouldn’t have agreed to talk with him without so much as a hesitation.

Besides, he was being her Matt again, not stuffy Matthew.

She could at least find out what made the difference, where the change came from.

She stepped inside, pushing from her mind the memory of the snooty couple who’d sat there the last time she’d been at Sainsbury House.

Nothing much had changed in his office. Her eyes settled on a potted plant at the corner of Matt’s desk.

It hadn’t been there before. And she knew exactly what variety it was.

“A fuchsia,” she said, gently running her fingers along the petals of one flower. The same plant Barney gave Francis every year for their anniversary, for her birthdays, as an “I love you” and an “I’m sorry” and everything in between.

“It’s a Swingtime Fuchsia,” Matt said. “The variety you like best.”

This was her Matt, remembering every little thing.

“I brought it for you,” he said. “Though I haven’t figured out how to give it to you yet.”

“For me?” She looked up, her heart already beginning to hope. It would shatter if this didn’t turn out well. She cautiously asked, “Why?”

She had never in her life seen a man beg, but the look on Matt’s face in that moment came very close.

“I miss you, Abby. I miss sitting on the balcony with you. I spend all day Sunday at the farmer’s market watching for you.

Every time my phone rings, I hope it’s going to be you calling.

” He’d moved to her side but didn’t touch her.

His eyes studied her face, the pleading in them not lessening at all.

“I want a chance to try again. A chance to make things right between us.”

A bubble of hope began deep inside. Abby tried to push it down, not ready to open herself up to the possibility of being hurt again.

Matt slowly, deliberately took her hand, clearly expecting her to pull away. She didn’t. She couldn’t. His touch filled an empty part of her. She’d missed him too. She’d needed him nearby.

“I was something of an idiot about things,” Matt said, holding her gaze with his.

“When you were here before, I wasn’t trying to hide you away.

I wasn’t embarrassed to have you here or ashamed of you.

Nothing like that.” His words took on an earnest edge she couldn’t doubt was sincere.

“The people who were here are quite possibly the biggest snobs on the face of the earth. And they are often cruel. I have no choice but to interact with them— it’s one of the more unpleasant parts of my job— but I didn’t want you to have to.

I was afraid they would be unkind. I didn’t want you enduring that.

And if they’d been cruel to you, I couldn’t have held my tongue. I was trying to avoid all that.”

“Really?” She wanted to believe him. She wanted to badly.

“Honestly and truly.” He took her other hand. “I should have been clearer about that. I should have explained and let you decide what you wanted to do.”

“I would have been very out of place with fancy and sophisticated people.”

He lightly laughed. “My mum keeps saying I need to tell you that I’m just a regular bloke from Stanmore.”

Abby had no idea what that meant, but he said it so earnestly, she knew it was significant.

“I’ve never been rich and probably never will be. I’m just an average guy who’s, honestly, kind of surprised you let me spend as much time with you as you did.”

A ridiculously handsome, well-spoken, successful guy surprised that she liked being with him?

“All we ever did was trim plants and play soccer.” She could hardly believe he’d cherished those moments.

He shrugged a single shoulder. “I grew up pruning plants and playing football. I like it. I enjoy it. And I like and enjoy you.”

That was something Dirk had never once said to her. Not ever. She’d always felt like she had to prove to him that she was worth his time.

“You brought me a fuchsia.”

He nodded uncertainly. “I kept thinking of Barney’s stories and how Francis would always forgive him if he gave her a fuchsia. I hoped it would work the same magic for me.”

“You want to be my Barney, is that it?” She couldn’t say exactly why the question thickened her voice with tears. She wasn’t generally a crier.

“I want to try,” Matt said. “I would very much like to have that chance.”

“And I would very much like a Barney of my own.” She wanted a Matt of her own. Her Matt. He brushed his thumb along her cheek just as he had that evening in his apartment. She smiled up at him, a smile that for the first time in a long time came straight from her heart.

The strains of distant music could be heard through the closed door. “Dance with me?” she asked.

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t debate for the length of single breath. Matt took her hand in his and settled his arm around her waist. He pulled her up and close to him. She could feel the warmth of his breath rustling her hair.

Abby closed her eyes and leaned in to him. Being with Dirk had always meant constant attention to her posture, to her appearance, to how other people might judge her. But that moment, in Matt’s arms, she didn’t worry about any of those things.

He swayed with her to the music. “Does this mean I get a second chance?”

“Honestly, you never really lost your first chance. I was working on convincing myself to call you.”

He pulled back the smallest bit. Abby looked up at him.

“You were going to call me?” he asked, an eager hopefulness in his tone and eyes.

Abby nodded. “I missed you too. I was embarrassed and a little hurt, but I guess I never completely believed you were a jerk.”

His grin grew on the instant. “That’s not exactly a gushing compliment, but, honestly, it's one of the best I’ve ever received.”

She pulled her hand from his and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding tightly to him. His arms tucked around her as well.

He pressed a kiss to her temple then whispered in her ear. “Can we start again?”

“No.” She almost laughed at the look of surprised worry on his face. “I don’t want to start over,” she quickly explained. “I want to go back to being happy together and figuring each other out. Back to where we were before things fell apart.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You realize ‘where we were’ was making out on my couch.”

She felt a blush creeping up her neck. “Would you settle for being my date for the rest of the wedding?”

“For now,” he said.

He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose. They’d stopped dancing and simply stood in each other’s arms. Matt pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. She loved that he was so often tender and gentle, but in that moment, she wanted him to kiss her like he really meant it.

She shifted her hands to the back of his neck and returned his kiss with fervor. Matt didn’t need any more encouragement than that. He kissed her deeply and passionately there in his office against a background of wedding music and the now-cherished aroma of fuchsia.

Caroline had been right all along.

In the end, her wedding day turned out absolutely perfect.