Confetti Hearts (Confetti Hitched, #1)(62)

“Poor polar bears,” Lachlan mutters, and Cameron snorts

“If they were here, they’d throw themselves off an iceberg to get away.” I check. “Sorry. Ignore me. How unprofessional. She’s lovely.”

“Maybe in another time and place. Not here. She’s more bridezilla than human now,” Lachlan observes.

“Perhaps you can go up and tell your uncle not to get up,” I say to Isla. “Tell him to stay warm in bed.”

Lachlan smiles at our motley staff. “Let’s get on,” he says. The tone is polite and the smile charming enough to make Isla flutter her eyes, but he has a way of making things snap and this is no different. Within seconds they’re bustling away.

I lean against the table and look at my husband. Ex-husband. “Well, this is the getaway that keeps on giving,” I observe.

He snorts. “Steve McQueen had more luck than us. He might have been on the run, but at least Frances wasn’t chasing him.”

“Do you think we’re going to reach the stage of eating each other after being marooned here?” I say. “I don’t know whether to be hopeful about that or despairing.”

“Doesn’t marooned imply a beautiful desert island on our own?”

“Well, there is water. It’s just frozen.”

He sighs. “Bagsy me not eat the bride. She looks like she’d make a very cheerful steak.”

“As we are in life, so we are in death,” I intone just to hear him laugh. He duly obliges, and it’s as wonderful as ever.

“My mother warned me you were rather dramatic, Joe.”

“I’m surprised she got that from the one soul-crushing time we spoke on the phone,” I say sourly. He laughs and I look at him. “And what did you say to that?”

“I said you might be dramatic, but you were also warm and impulsive and so generous and kind.”

I suck in breath, shocked to my core. “I never knew you saw me like that.”

“I think there’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”

“Everyone thinks I leap before I look.”

“You do, baby, but it’s born out of kindness and joy in life. More people should be like that. I just realised too late that I wanted—” He falls silent.

“What?” I say breathlessly.

“I wanted to be the one at your back to catch you when you fell.”

Silence falls, but it’s broken by a shout of “Joe” from the dining room. Lachlan closes his eyes and sighs.

“Sorry,” I whisper. I’m not sure whether I’m really sorry he was interrupted. These sorts of conversations are dangerous to my emotional health.

He looks at me in surprise. “Don’t be. It’s your job.”

“You’ve never said that before either.” I hesitate. “I always sort of got the sense that you thought it was all incredibly frivolous, and I should be doing something more serious that earned more money.”

He shakes his head, looking sad. “Joe, I was an idiot. I did everything wrong that it was possible to. The only sane thing I ever did was marry you. After that, it was open season for idiots in my life. You are very good at your job, and there is nothing frivolous about making people happy. It’s a talent that was apparently missed off my skill set.” He gives me a crooked smile. “And you’re going to end up managing this hotel while Dougal’s off work, aren’t you?”

I bite my lip. “Shit,” I mutter. “I think I am. I can’t leave Erica and Ryan with grumpy guests and no food. This is their honeymoon, and they’re my bride and groom.”

“Said very tenderly, but with the slightest hint of Reverend Moonie.”

“Thank you.”

He straightens up. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

“Pardon?”

He raises one dark eyebrow. “I’m offering to be your deputy. Put me to work.”

I gasp. “You would do that for Erica and Ryan?”

He gives me a wry smile with a hint of that disturbing tenderness about it. “No, Joe. I’m doing it for you and only you. This is your job, and I want everyone to see how brilliant you are.”

We stare at each other. I’m unbearably touched. “Thank you,” I whisper. Then I brighten. “So that means I’m your boss.”

“Don’t push it, Joseph.”





Chapter

Fourteen





Joe



Within a few minutes, the kitchen is a hive of activity with Lachlan at the centre of it. After inspecting the store cupboards, he begins issuing orders. We all hop to it, knowing the wedding party will be down soon.

I offer to help Lachlan, but it’s greeted with justifiable horror, so Isla and I are sent out into the dining room to check the details and take orders. Cameron is commissioned as a sous chef which seems to suit his reticent personality, and he’s soon chopping and cutting while Lachlan stands by the huge range.

I sync my phone with the hotel speaker and with Mark Owen singing “Magic”, I move around the dining room, humming along and checking place settings and glasses while Isla grinds the beans and starts the coffee.

“You seem at home,” she observes.

I look at her and smile. “I used to do this.”