“You already are. Apart from Abby saying yes to me in the first place, you’re the best thing that’s happened during this wedding preparation. I mean it.”

Jordan gulped, thinking back to Abby’s hands around her waist, her breasts pressed into her back. The way an arc of pleasure had gripped her tight throughout.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, before giving Marcus a confident smile. “Glad you think so,” she replied.

Chapter 10

“There’s my gorgeous almost-daughter!” Gloria bowled up to Delta and they embraced. A full, squidgy, Scottish hug. None of those southern air kisses, as Mum always said.

Warmth rolled through Abby. Mum had always loved Delta, and vice versa.

When they finally let go, Delta stepped back, giving Mum her full smile. “Great to see you, Gloria. Ready for your daughter to marry into almost-royalty?”

“I’ve been waiting since she was a tiny tot.” Gloria put an arm around Abby’s shoulder, squeezing tight. “Seeing my little girl married to a posh boy? That bit I hadn’t quite imagined. Mainly because I’m from Glasgow. Have I told you that before, hen?”

Mum’s accent was suddenly as Scottish as could be. Abby rolled her eyes. That was another thing Delta and her mother had in common. Putting on thick Scottish accents for comic effect.

“You did, Gloria, aye!” Delta responded.

They fell about laughing, before they all sat at the table Abby had commandeered when she’d arrived. They were in Bart’s Bar in Canary Wharf, where both Abby and Delta worked, in the heart of the financial district. It was 6pm on a Thursday, and the bar was packed with workers out for a drink, jackets discarded, ties loosened. This was Abby and Delta’s world, but it wasn’t Jordan’s. What was Jordan’s world? Abby had no idea.

All she knew was that Jordan was a problem solver supreme. Someone who threw herself into her job. But who she really was? Abby was clueless. She wanted to rectify that soon. Jordan had quickly become someone she relied on. Jordan had said she could ask her anything, but they always seemed to end up talking about Abby, and not her. She’d moved around a lot as a kid. She lived with her best friend in Brighton. She had good taste in clothes. That was about as far as Abby had got.

“Can you refrain from doing your Scottish comedy act when Jordan turns up? I’d like for her not to think we’re all crazy the minute she arrives.”

Gloria reached over the table, patting Abby’s hand. “If the shoe fits, hen.” She hadn’t dialled down her accent an inch.

“Anyway, Marcus is not royalty. His family have just done well in the property business. Plus, his money isn’t why I’m marrying him, so can we not make jokes about that when Jordan’s here, either?”