Joss Wood - The Honeymoon Arrangement

On the other hand, being parents might bring them closer …

God—a baby. He was still taking it in. He wanted to be an integral part of his child’s life and he was excited about becoming a dad. Maybe the birth of his own child would fill the hole that had appeared in his life when James died three months ago. A birth for a death, it seemed … right .

Fitting. Fated.

Finn rubbed his jaw. He was approaching his mid-thirties and he wanted to be a brilliant father to someone. James had been one to his stepbrothers, to him. He wanted to create a family of his own—something he’d only truly experienced when he was fourteen and he and his mum had joined the Baker gang—a single dad and his three sons. He wanted to be part of something bigger than himself and he and Liz had been good together once. Maybe they could be again. Actually, they didn’t have an option. They had to make it good again.

‘So, why are you getting married?’ Callie asked again.

He frowned at her, warning her off the subject. ‘None of your business.’

Callie’s low chuckle floated over him. Warning ignored, then.

‘Of course it’s not, but I’m always fascinated as to why someone would be interested in tying themselves down for ever and ever and ever …’

‘Love?’

‘ Pffft . That’s just an easy excuse—a myth perpetuated by movies and books.’

‘You don’t believe in love?’ Finn asked, intrigued despite himself. Because, deep in his soul, he wasn’t sure if he believed in the fairytale version either.

To him, love was taking responsibility, showing caring, companionship and loyalty, and he firmly believed in those. Besides, Liz hadn’t got pregnant by herself, and if he was part of the problem then he would be part of the solution.

Right now it seemed that marriage was the solution.

He saw something that he thought was sadness flicker in Callie’s eyes.

‘I believe the only pure love people have is for their children, and some people don’t even have that. No, love is a generic term we use to feel safe. Or comfortable? Possibly co-dependent?’ Callie suggested, twisting in her seat as the aircraft started to move down the runway.

‘Is that what you see love and marriage as? Co-dependency?’ He couldn’t believe that he was having a conversation about his upcoming marriage with an absolute stranger. Reticence was his usual style, along with reserve and caginess. He asked the questions, dammit, he didn’t answer them.

Callie shrugged. ‘I think that a lot of people use love and marriage as an escape from whatever is dragging them down. Just like some people escape to drugs in order to feel happy, others escape to love.’

Whoa . He was occasionally cynical about love and relationships, but she made him look like an amateur. He was cautious, thoughtful and rational about the concept. He took his time to become fully invested in a relationship and he never made quick or rash decisions. Which was probably why he was feeling so out of sorts about getting married—he hadn’t had nearly enough time to think the whole situation through, to process the changes.

And he was still dealing with the death of the only father he’d ever known. Finn pushed his fingers to his right eye to stop the burning. Would he ever get shot of this ache in his heart?

Callie placed the tips of her fingers, the nails shiny and edged in white, on the bare skin of his forearm. ‘Sorry—I’m being an absolute downer. I’m just naturally sceptical about love, marriage and relationships. It’s a crap shoot and I’m not much of a gambler.’ Callie bit her bottom lip. ‘I admit that I’m a little too outspoken and opinionated—’

He couldn’t help his sarcasm. ‘A little ?’

‘Okay, a lot—but I do wish you happiness and success.’ She tucked her foot up and under her backside again, and sighed theatrically. ‘Both my brother and father—neither of whom I thought would ever get hitched—are getting married within the next couple of months, so I’m going to have to learn to keep my cynical mouth shut.’

Despite having only known her for twenty minutes, Finn knew that was impossible.

‘Thank goodness that Rowan—my best friend, who is about to marry my brother—is an event planner and she’s organising both their weddings. I just have to show up and look pretty.’

Pretty? She could don a black rubbish bag and still look stunning, Finn thought. Those eyes, those cheekbones, that pink tongue peeking out from between those plump lips … He wondered what she would taste like, how those breasts would fit into his hands, about the baby softness on the inside of those slim thighs …

Whoah!

What the hell …? Rein it in, bud, before you humiliate yourself. You’re engaged, remember? An almost father, an about-to-be husband .

Knowing that she’d said something of importance that he hadn’t picked up because in his head he’d been tasting her skin, he mentally rewound. ‘Wait … you say your best friend is a wedding planner?’

‘Mmm. Actually, she does all sorts of events, but she’s great at weddings.’

‘My partner—fiancée—is going nuts. Apparently there isn’t a wedding planner in the city who’ll take on organising a wedding at the last moment.’

‘When are you getting married … tomorrow?’

‘As I said, we’d like to get it done in three months or so.’

Liz wanted the wedding done and dusted before she started to show as she wasn’t comfortable displaying her baby bump to her conservative relatives.

‘And finding a wedding planner is something I have to do in the next couple of days.’

‘Why isn’t the bride-to-be looking?’ Callie asked. ‘Shouldn’t that be her thing?’

‘Liz is in Nigeria for the next six weeks, so finding a wedding planner has become my job.’

‘What’s she doing in Nigeria?’

God—more questions. He didn’t think he’d met anyone more inquisitive and so unreservedly blatant about it. So, Sherlock, why haven’t you shut her down yet?

‘Liz is a consulting engineer working on an oil rig.’ He saw her open her mouth and held up a hand to stop the next barrage of questions. ‘This friend of yours … the wedding planner? Is she any good?’

Callie nodded. ‘She really is. She started off by doing kids’ birthday parties and then she did a Moroccan-themed wedding which was amazing. In eighteen months she’s done more than a few weddings.’

‘Can I get her number?’

‘Sure.’ Callie nodded. ‘If you allow me one last word on marriage.’

‘Can I stop you?’ Finn raised a dark eyebrow. ‘And just one word? How amazing.’

Callie ignored his quiet sarcasm. ‘It’s not from me but from Nietzsche …’

Good looks and good brains too? Callie was quite a deep little package.

‘Nietzsche, huh? Do enlighten me.’

‘He said something about love being many brief follies and that marriage puts an end to said follies with a single long stupidity.’

Huh. Some German philosophers and some navy-eyed blondes were far too smart for their own good.

‘I need a drink.’

Callie grinned. ‘People frequently say that when they’re around me.’

Finn didn’t find that hard to believe. At all .