Zara Stoneley - The Wedding Date - The laugh out loud romantic comedy of the year!

He seems a bit … well, a bit (lot) unmanageable . Like Tank. Jumping up at everybody. Ignoring the rules. Who knows what chaos he could cause in the wilds of Scotland?

‘Of course you’re not sure.’ He’s gone all serious and sensible for a moment, and my little niggle melts, along with something else as he puts his hand over mine. ‘Are you okay?’

I don’t want to grab my hand back, because he’s got the warmest of warm hands, but it seems like a good idea. I’d rehearsed this, but in real life it isn’t quite as easy. And the fact that I want to wriggle in my seat isn’t all down to his capable looking hands.

‘A bit soggy.’ Major understatement. Everything down to my knickers is damp – and not in a good way. If there is such a thing in polite society. It’s obviously the cold, sogginess and aching arms that have made me feel a bit pathetic and quivery.

I also know I look a complete disaster, I wouldn’t go out with me if you paid me. ‘I’m fine, that’s dog-walking for you, haha.’ He looks immaculate. Not a hair out of my place.

‘Wait here. You need warming up.’ He winks, and I’m right back in that Italian restaurant, warming up rapidly. ‘A coffee might help, or I hear they do a good hot chocolate here?’

How did he know that whipped cream, chocolate and marshmallows are exactly what I need right now?

Apparently he knows what every woman needs. He’s bounced up to the counter, and the girl serving him has gone all giggly as she whisks the cream, and the woman behind him in the queue is staring at him adoringly as he passes her a slice of cake she can’t quite reach (talk about obvious moves, honestly, whoever heard of anybody not being able to stretch that extra inch or three for a chocolate brownie?), and a loose dog runs up to him like he’s the last man on earth. Which is when it hits me. I need rules. If this is to work, if I’m going to be able to keep him (and myself) under control, I need rules. Boundaries.

This is where I have gone wrong in the past. I need fake-date rules. Like you would if you got a puppy – not that I’m saying he’s a puppy. No jumping on the sofa, no bad manners, no leaping over the fence and humping the neighbour’s dog…

Okay, so sometimes rules get broken now and then, but a broken rule is better than not having one in the first place.

‘There you go.’ He’s back, complete with hot drinks and a slice of chocolate brownie. If I wasn’t supposed to be interviewing him, I’d kiss him. ‘So, Amy says you’ve got a problem?’

I like the sound of that. Describing this as a problem, rather than an indecent proposal, makes it sound much more acceptable. I have a problem, and problems should be viewed as opportunities. And I now have the opportunity to date an extremely dishy man.

I can’t answer straight away though as I’m up to my nose in hot chocolate, thinking about rules. And of course getting a chocolate hit.

But when he leans forward and brushes the cream off my top lip with his slightly salty thumb (sorry, my tongue kind of brushed against it) it’s a bit distracting. Like a puppy giving you kisses when you’ve told him to sit.

I mustn’t think about kisses. Or tongues. This is a business deal. Nice eyes and arse or not. Although I do now know without a doubt that this is a face I could stand to gaze at for a week. ‘Er, bit of an awkward situation really, rather than a problem.’

He sits back, his head slightly tilted to one side. ‘She said you didn’t want to go to your mate’s wedding on your own.’ I nod. ‘But why do you need a fake date?’ He sounds more interested than judgemental, and I suppose it is fair enough, him wanting to know.

‘Well…’ I concentrate on my marshmallows but can’t help noticing (when I peep up) that his steady gaze never leaves me. ‘I told Jess, that’s my best friend, the one that is getting married, that I’ve got a boyfriend and I haven’t.’

‘I’m surprised about that.’ His voice has softened, and when I look up, the corner of his mouth lifts. ‘The “haven’t” bit.’ The gentle tone makes me blink, which is horrible, I’m not supposed to be feeling sorry for myself. I don’t feel sorry for myself. I’m totally fine.

‘Well I did have, until five months ago. He dumped me, for another woman.’

‘Ahh.’

‘A woman who I’ve just found out is pregnant. She’s huge apparently, hugely, hugely pregnant.’

‘To be honest, does it matter if she’s hugely pregnant, or just a little bit? If she’s pregnant, she’s pregnant.’

‘Well yes it does, actually, because it means he, he…’ I pause and take a deep breath, because this is the really horrible bit. ‘Well, she’s huge, as in more than five months pregnant. So that means he was poking her when he was still with me.’

‘What a total shit.’ I look up at him properly then, because there’s a harsh edge to his voice that I haven’t heard before. He looks genuinely angry, and his soft tawny eyes have gone hard. Wolf eyes.

‘And…’ I waver. ‘He’s going to be there, at the wedding.’

‘You have got to be kidding?’ It’s not just his eyes, his whole body has stiffened. ‘What kind of best friend is this Jess? Inviting your ex to her bloody wedding. That is totally out of order.’ He leans forward, and gives my hand a gentle squeeze, and some of the tension seems to ebb out of him. It feels nice, reassuring. Supportive.

‘It’s not Jess’s fault.’ I can’t help but sigh, as I stir rather too vigorously and marshmallows pop up and down like corks on a rough sea. ‘My ex happens to be the groom’s brother.’

‘Oh, tricky then.’

‘And the best man.’

‘Ah. That’s a tough call.’ His thumb is rubbing the base of mine, almost absentmindedly. It’s mesmerising and almost makes me forget the story and just ask him out for a real date. But then he stops.

‘I also told my mum I had a boyfriend, so that she wouldn’t insist I took Desmond.’

‘Desmond?’

‘He’s nobody. But Mum and Dad and all my mates will be there, and Liam of course.’ He looks blank. ‘My ex, with his girlfriend.’ I shrug and try and make out this isn’t the most important thing in my life at this precise moment. ‘Anyway, that’s why I want a date.’ I stop all my messing about with my hot chocolate and look at him. ‘I need a date. I don’t want them all feeling sorry for me, and whispering in corners. I’m so over him, and I need to show them I am.’

‘You could just not go?’

‘No!’ I think I shout it a bit too vehemently, because he freezes. ‘She’s my best mate. I can’t let her down just because of some stupid man.’

He nods.

‘I have to be there for her, she’d do it for me, and besides, I love her to bits. So I am going, whether you say yes or not.’ I stare him in the eye, so there is no doubt. ‘But, I would like to show them how totally over the heap of…’

‘Shit?’

‘Shit, thank you, I am. So, are you up for it?’ Please say yes, please say yes. I’m holding my breath; he might say no now he knows just what he’s letting himself in for.

‘Well…’ There’s a long pause, but he’s gazing into my eyes still, so at least he’s man enough to say no to my face. But then I realise I’ve missed out a crucial bit. If I don’t say this now, and he does say yes, then he might change it to no later.

‘Oh, and it’s in Scotland, a whole week.’

‘A whole week of mischief?’ His eyes are all twinkly and naughty again, which is very disturbing and makes me feel a bit giddy. ‘Well, just so you know, I did say no when Amy first asked.’

I lose my giddiness. ‘But she told me you—’

He holds his spare hand up to stop me. ‘I actually laughed and told her she was crazy.’