I’ve never watched a man tie up his hair before, but I’m used to doing it with my long mane and generally I just get into a mess and spend most of my time trying to detach hair from my bra straps and untrap it from where it inexplicably gets caught in my armpit, but my breathing has sped up involuntarily at how insanely sexy he looks. I think porn companies should give up on all the sweaty nakedness stuff and just concentrate on men putting their hair up from now on. His dark lashes fall across his cheeks as he looks down and bites his lip in concentration.

He knows I’m watching him without looking up. ‘What?’

‘I like it,’ I say. I don’t know what else to say, because ‘you are the hottest man on the planet’ probably wouldn’t go down too well. ‘You don’t see many guys with long hair, but it suits you.’

‘Even though I’m not a hipster with skinny jeans and a man-bun?’

I smile at the thought. There’s no way his muscular legs could be vacuumed into skinny jeans, and a man bun would never work. His hair is so thick that it doesn’t sit nicely in a ponytail and a couple of the shorter bits have already sprung out, and there’s something questionable about my sanity given how much I want to go over and tuck them back.

Thankfully he speaks again before I have a chance to do anything that stupid. ‘Thank you. My mum thinks I’m an unkempt slob.’

My breath catches in my throat because there’s something in his voice that I haven’t heard before, a flatness, a resignation. A vulnerability.

Like he can sense how much it makes me want to go over and sit next to him, he looks up at me and our gazes lock and the air suddenly feels charged with expectation, like we’re both waiting for something to happen.

I take a step towards him and he suddenly launches himself off the table, making one of the pumpkins roll off and thud onto the floor. The flickering tealight inside it goes dark as he makes a show of checking his watch like it was the reason he got up so fast.

I bend down to pick the pumpkin up, turn the tealight back on, and replace its lid as I set it back on the table.

I can feel his eyes on me, and I’m blushing again for no reason. When I turn around, he’s got that soft smile on his face again and he’s shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other.

Thankfully Fergus and Fiona choose that moment to reappear, and we watch them tottering down the aisle towards us arm in arm.