Barbara Hannay - Blind Dates and Other Disasters

‘A triage nurse.’

Beth grinned. ‘Oh, how perfect.’ ‘It would take someone with that sort of temperament to look after our Ana. She’s quite a handful.’ ‘You would know.’ ‘No comment.’

Holly could tell there was some serious subtext to Beth’s comments. She was intrigued despite herself, but her desire to stay invisible outweighed her curiosity so she let the conversation continue over her head.

‘Anyway, good on him for taking her on,’ Jacob said. ‘I guess some people just like to be married.’

Holly stopped chewing and her cutlery stilled in her hand. Did he seriously just say what I think he said?

Ben coughed and she hoped he was choking on his potato. Beth’s face, on the other hand, was all innocence. Perhaps Holly had misread the matter and Jacob was really talking about his sister, and not about her.

‘Holly, could you please pass the broccoli?’ Jacob asked.

Holly jumped in her seat at the call of her name. Her frazzled nerves were drawn as tight as Beth’s new guitar strings. As she passed the bowl she locked eyes with the man across the table. He smiled bringing out his oh, so charming dimples.

He’s the anti-husband , she reminded herself, distant and indifferent. And his admittedly appealing dimples are, well, irrelevant.

‘Holly did the vegetables tonight, Jacob,’ Beth said. ‘She’s a whiz with a steamer.’

Holly happily let go of the eye contact as she let go of the plate, and then shot Beth a quick yet entirely humourless smile.

‘Anyway,’ Jacob began again, ‘Ana and Michael have known each other six months, been engaged for a week and are already talking kids.’

‘Oh, that’s wonderful,’ Beth said.

‘I’m all for short engagements,’ Jacob said. ‘She found someone like-minded, at the same point in his life, with the same goals and desires, and snapped him up. It was the smart thing to do.’

Was he serious? Holly had her reasons for embarking on her husband hunt, but what would Mr Standoffish be doing on a blind date with a woman he knew was after marriage? It made no sense. And, worse, it laughed in the face of her theory.

And who on earth was this guy? Ben had conveniently not let on what he did for the company. Maybe because Lincoln Holdings only kept him on in sympathy for some shocking flaw he hid under his cool good looks. Well, apart from the obvious personality defects Holly had already been subjected to.

To make matters worse, what if he eventually recognised her and let on that he was the guy on the street, the guy Beth knew had started her off on this crusade? If Beth knew, she would never let up about signs and primes and all sorts of gibberish. Holly was certain nothing bar that revelation could make this night more unbearable.

‘I want kids, you know,’ Jacob practically cooed. ‘At least eight. No, eleven—a whole soccer team. So I should probably get started as soon as possible.’

Holly barely contained her groan. She lay down her cutlery, unable to stomach another bite.

Beth gave a painfully obvious nod towards Holly before asking, ‘Do you have someone in mind to bear this football team for you?’

Holly glared ferociously at her friend, who refused to meet her eye.

‘Not as such,’ Jacob said, picking up a stem of broccoli on the end of his fork and twirling it before his eyes. ‘But she would have to be a good cook. Though I would hope that she did not enjoy her own cooking so much that she not be able to keep her figure after the kids are born.’

What? Was this guy for real?

Jacob had trouble keeping the smile from his voice. Ben had his head buried in his hands, Beth’s eyes were widening in shock with each absurd statement, and the lovely Holly was slumping lower and lower in her chair.

‘Ben and I talked about this today. Didn’t we, Ben?’ Jacob casually cracked a knuckle or two as if to say, Your choice: shouting and hitting or go with the flow. Ben smiled ruefully and nodded.

‘Constantly, mate. Hardly got any work done, we were so busy talking about kids.’

But Jacob wasn’t finished yet—

‘And I do like blondes. If I were to marry a brunette I would ask that she dye her hair. I mean, if she really cared for my feelings she would do that, wouldn’t you think?’

Jacob revelled in the stunned silence that met his latest words. Got ‘em!

‘So, Holly, how about you?’

‘Excuse me?’ Holly squeaked.

‘How many kids do you want?’ Jacob asked.

Holly darted a hunted gaze to her friends but found no help from their corner. Ben was finding his cutlery very interesting whilst Beth still stared at Jacob, her eyes bright with astonishment.

‘Umm … kids?’ she said. ‘I haven’t really thought about it.’

‘No? I’m surprised at that.’

‘Surprised?’ Her voice was still an octave too high and barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat.

‘Don’t all women think of these things? How many and what you would name them all?’

‘I guess,’ Holly admitted whilst wishing she could dissolve into the floor.

‘And haven’t you had a distinct idea of the man you would one day marry?’

And then he smiled. From ear to ear. Adorably overlapping teeth, charming dimples and enough charisma to knock her socks off. If he had held up a big sign with an arrow pointing to himself it would not have been more obvious. He seemed so ripe he probably kept his grandmother’s ring in the top pocket of his jacket every day … just in case.

She swallowed hard. Her brow was furrowed so tight it was giving her a headache. She knew her terrible poker face would be showing all the signs of the strain she felt. She could feel hot red blotches forming on her neck and cheeks. But she had no idea how to extricate herself from this nightmare.

Then suddenly Jacob’s bright eyes narrowed, seemingly looking deeper and deeper into her own until she was sure she saw a softening. A melting. The impenetrable myriad hazel flecks in his gaze grew deep and kind and sad. For a flicker she sensed an apology, as real as if he had said it aloud.

And although she would have thought it impossible, it made her knees feel weaker than they had all night.

* * *

He had done enough. He had proven his point. After this performance, Ben and Beth would not dare to set him up on this kind of date again. And that was all he wanted from the night. So he changed tack.

‘How about you, Beth? Did you think you’d end up with someone soft and fuzzy like young Benny boy?’

As Beth proceeded to regale the group with tales of numerous dream boys from her teens Jacob watched as Holly slowly relaxed.

Her natural colour had returned and he noticed again what an attractive woman she was—and just his taste. Not too tall, graceful, curvaceous, vivacious. And he had been lying earlier to rile her. He had never been one of those men who preferred blondes. Her lustrous, thick dark hair beguiled him. He found himself wanting to release it from its confining pins and feel its lush abundance sliding through his fingers.

With her head cocked, listening to Beth’s funny stories, she surreptitiously picked up stray slivers of carrot and brought them to her mouth, daintily sucking them in with a swift sip. And each time she gave the tips of her fingers an unhurried lick, savouring the slight drops of honey. And Jacob was mesmerized. It was all he could do to stop himself from licking his own lips, she made it look so good.

‘Don’t you remember Gary Phelps, Holly?’ Beth asked, snapping Jacob back to the conversation at hand. Holly even managed a small laugh. It was a pretty sound. Light and unselfconscious.

‘He was so horrid, Beth.’ Holly grimaced, but her voice had returned to a more normal timbre.