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Her heart told her that she was ready for something more. And yet it also told her to be wary. It wasn’t a conscious thing; it didn’t even feel like that heart-versus-head thing that people banged on about. The opposing views were both emotional, not logical. They both came from her heart, hence her viewing that particular organ as divided and treacherous. It ached for Arran, and yet gave her palpitations of terror whenever she imagined the two of them being in any sort of relationship other than platonic.
Liv was jealous of people who’d found a relationship they could trust in forever. She wanted it, and yet she was terrified of it inequal measure, and she couldn’t understand how anyone got past that fear. Hence her preoccupation with the beautiful portrait woman and her doting husband.
As much as she played up the jokes to their friends about being the terminally single one, and being on the lookout for her Mr. Darcy, the truth was that was a smoke screen. A committed relationship was something she had actively avoided up until now, and perhaps that was partly because the Hollands had a seriously shit record where relationships were concerned. Their mum had been with their emotionally abusive father for years before he finally did them all a favor and buggered off with a younger woman. In the end, none of them harbored any ill feeling toward his new girlfriend; they just felt sorry for her because the curtain was bound to lift at some point, and then the poor woman would realize what a royal twat the guy was.
Not long after their father left, Sam had taken up with a girlfriend who had, to all intents and purposes, turned out to be the female version of their arsehole father—something it took them all, Sam especially, a long time to figure out. All that familial trauma had well and truly put Liv off relationships, and she had avoided anything but casual dating.
In effect, she and her twin brother had opposite reactions to their abandonment issues. Sam had jumped right into a very long-term relationship, and Liv had avoided commitment entirely. That Sam’s relationship had turned out to be with someone with personality flaws similar to their dad’s had made Liv more determined that her way was the right way.
Fair enough, now their mum had Angus and Sam was with Maya and both of them were the best things to ever happen to her mum and her brother. But something deep down inside still held her back. Something that made her stomach churn whenever she contemplated a serious relationship.
An intrusive memory surfaced of her paternal grandmother, Agnes, talking to her when Liv was eight.
“Sammy is your mother’s spitting image. But you’re so much like your father, Livvy. You look just like him when he was your age! Same dark hair and green eyes. And you know what? You’reexactlylike him in temperament too.”
Liv shuddered at the memory. It had been the first time that she could clearly remember her grandmother commenting on the resemblance, but certainly not the last. And every time it had made her stomach roil—even before she was old enough to realize why. She met Maya’s eyes, realizing she needed to give a response about Brodie. She might as well say she was up for the idea, to get Maya off her back. “See what he thinks. And if he goes for the idea, then I’ll ask him out.”
A big grin spread across Maya’s face and she performed a small, tearoom-appropriate fist pump. “Excellent.”
“Anyway,” Liv said, keen to get the heat off her love life. “What about the wedding stuff? How’s it going?”
Maya winced. “You know what? It turns out there’s a lot to organize.”
Elise was smiling behind her cup.
“I know we said that we only needed help organizing the weekend away,” Maya continued. “But there’s so much to do in such a small amount of time. I thought we could just go with the bare minimum, but Mum and Dad are determined that we’re going to haveallof the frills.”
Liv smiled. “Need some help?”
Maya looked like she was about to collapse with relief. “Would that be okay? I wondered whether we might contract out some of the jobs to our trusty band of best women and men.”
“Of course,” Elise said.
“Phew,” Maya said. She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, who knew that wedding planning was so much work?”
Elise laughed. “Don’t worry. We can help.”
“Absolutely,” Liv replied. “Just say the word, and we’re on it.”
Maya sighed contentedly. “Cool. I’ll check with Sam and we’ll see what needs delegating.”
—
Folding Arran’s shirt, Liv mournedits impending loss. But she’d had it for more than a week and it was his favorite one; she couldn’t hold on to it forever, and so she was reluctantly planning to drop it off to him. At least it was an excuse to see him. The doorbell rang and she headed down the hall to answer it, her mind full of thoughts of Arran. When she opened it and found the man himself standing on the other side, she about collapsed. He was doing that bloody sexy leaning-in-the-doorway-with-his-arms-folded thing again. For goodness’ sake, did he not realize the aphrodisiac nature of that stance?
“Hey,” he said, and the sound of that one syllable had electricity zipping up her spine.
“Hey yourself,” she said, clearing her throat when her voice came out a little scratchy. “Come in.” He passed by her into the hallway, giving her a lungful of his heavenly scent.
She closed the door and led him into the kitchen, gesturing for him to take a seat at the breakfast bar. “What brings you by?”
He obliged, removing his jacket. Liv’s gaze traced the outline of the muscles contracting in his arms as he worked it off and hung it on the back of the chair.
“I just wanted to give you something,” he told her.
“Oh?” she said, distracted by the biceps display.
He shot her a grin and for a moment she thought he’d caughther ogling. Then he whipped something out of his jacket pocket, holding it out to her.
