Page 50 of The Side Road (Love Chronicles #3)

A WEDDING

‘Mia.’

‘Yes, Oliver.’

‘What colour are the bridesmaid dresses?’

‘I’m afraid that’s top-secret information. I can’t possibly tell you. Frankly, I’m surprised you asked.’

‘I thought I’d coordinate the cars.’

They were lying on the window seat in Mia’s house.

A new pattern book in her hands, she was scanning the summer knits.

Yesterday, the orthopaedic surgeon had removed her plaster.

Oliver, holding a paper tape measure, was calculating the distance between her elbow and her shoulder.

Previously, he had measured the circumference of her wrists and compared the findings to his own wrist measurement.

He had also applied the tape to her kneecaps and then the length of her fingers; the results continued to fascinate him.

Mia’s eyes lit up. After cautiously checking over her shoulder, she leaned forward. ‘They’re red,’ she whispered. ‘But you didn’t hear it from me. ’

Oliver rolled up the tape measure. It would not be easy, but if there was a black Citroen DX convertible in the country, he would find it.

Two weeks later, Mia walked into her kitchen wearing a black tuxedo jacket over a silk shirt.

Her red pocket handkerchief matched her lipstick and also her billowing tulle skirt.

She wore her hair loose, falling across her shoulders, and tucked behind one ear was a red rose.

It was fairy-tale stuff, except for the calf-length motorbike boots on her feet.

Oliver thought he might die of adoration.

Mia turned in a circle. ‘I feel like a queen, but these boots might be the death of me.’

‘Let’s hope not,’ he said. ‘You look amazing.’

Jamie had left the wedding details to Bridget.

His second marriage and her first, she wanted things done a certain way.

He understood, but to keep the lines of communication open, he wrote Bridget a list of his requirements: garden ceremony; honeymoon in Japan; two attendants – his sister and brother would act as his best woman and groomsmen, respectively.

With Mia’s help, Bridget approached the day with military precision and an Excel spreadsheet.

A late spring wedding, at short notice – there was a lot to organise.

The venue needed to be booked, caterers hired, and guest accommodation sorted.

A photographer, a florist, and a beauty salon were also required.

Saige was charged with decorating the venue, including the tables, receiving her first paid job as a stylist.

When Oliver was asked to find the bridal cars, he didn’t hesitate.

But the moment Bridget saw the Black Shadow, she knew it was the perfect mode of transport for the groom and his best woman.

Bridget would have taken the vehicle herself, but her pencil gown was not appropriate. She refused to compromise on the dress.

The Black Shadow sat outside Mia’s house.

As she climbed onto the bike, the billowing tulle of her skirts floated around her.

Oliver was on hand to fold and tuck the dress into place.

No advice, he reminded himself. They had practised this run a dozen times.

She knew how to avoid the potholes in the road.

He handed her a leather jacket and swapped the rose in her hair for a helmet.

Again, he resisted the urge to check the clips; she knew what she was doing.

Jamie settled onto the seat behind.

‘Ready?’ Mia asked.

‘Born ready.’ Jamie laughed.

Mia kicked the bike over. It caught first time. They headed down the hill, across the river to the Mill Family Olive Estate and Winery.

Tash had needed a new dress, shoes, a haircut, and her nails done before the event.

Oliver wore his second favourite suit. Made by Zegna from navy centoventimila wool – one hundred and twenty thousand thread count – it featured a timeless Prince of Wales pattern.

Bridget’s family had borrowed the Citroen, so Oliver and Tash would travel in the BMW.

Before they left, Oliver handed Tash the rose.

After resting it in Snood’s mouth, she took a photo and sent it to Mia.

With Snood, she snuggled into the sidecar and Oliver drove them to the venue.

As dusk settled, the guests arrived. A twilight setting with fairy lights strung through the trees, marquees erected along the river flats, and long trestle tables elegantly decorated with candles and native flowers.

Halfway through the evening, the dancing started. Mia looked at Oliver. Her eyes glowed as she smiled, a little tipsy. In her arms, she held her motorbike boots. After kissing him, she handed him the boots. ‘For you, my love.’ Turning away, she headed toward the dance floor.

He tossed her boots over his shoulder and followed her. Catching her at the edge of the crowd, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms.