That One Moment (Lost in London #2)(83)

Irreconcilable.

The congregation stands to file out of the church. I catch sight of Leslie and Theo, along with the rest of the bridal party forming a reception line in the narthex. “Great,” I groan quietly.

“You’re fine. Only a couple more hours to go,” Gareth mutters under his breath.

I offer a shaky smile to my brother who’s dressed in a black fitted suit. Several people turn and gawk at him as we meander through the line. “You could have dressed down a bit. I told you this was a small, casual wedding.”

He frowns down at me. “I’m not wearing a tie.”

I roll my eyes. “Gucci is hardly casual.”

His eyes narrow as he looks over my shoulder. A playful smirk teases his lips, so I turn to see him catching a sensual gaze from a tall, busty brunette. “Nice,” I croak.

“Hey, I’m here for moral support. But I’m no bloody saint.” He flashes Busty a megawatt smile.

“Can you at least keep it in your pants until we get through this reception line? Hayden is right there.” The pain I feel just saying his name is acute.

He frowns and his flirty eyes suddenly turn serious. “You’ve got this.”

Do I? I think to myself just as we reach Leslie. “Vilma!” she sings happily. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She yanks me into a tight hug and her arms feel firm and solid around me. She pulls back and looks into my eyes with a pensive expression. “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

I shake my head dismissively. “I wouldn’t miss your wedding, Leslie,” I say just as Theo finishes with the couple in front of us and looks to me. “You’re too damn needy for me to avoid anyway.”

Theo laughs and casts his twinkling, happy eyes down to his blushing bride. “I can vouch for that. And now I have two of them.” We glance over to Marisa as she smiles from the arms of Theo’s parents, whom I met briefly at the gala last month.

“Guys, this is my brother, Gareth Harris. I’m not sure you’ve all met.” I turn to my brother as he moves in closer.

Theo’s eyes fly wide. He pulls his glasses off as if to confirm that who he’s looking at isn’t a mirage. “Gareth Harris, for Man U? Bugger. I’m…yeah, I’m a fan.” Theo stammers as he cuts accusing eyes to Leslie. “Leslie, how could you not mention who Vilma’s brother is?”

She purses her lips and shrugs as if the thought never once occurred to her. “I don’t watch soccer! How am I supposed to know he’s a big deal?”

“He’s like…Beckham big deal, babe.”

“Posh Spice’s husband? Oh shit! He’s hot!” Gareth and I burst out laughing, and Leslie bites her lip and covers her mouth. Theo shakes his head at her as she says, “I’m sorry, Gareth.”

Gareth chuckles. “No offense taken. I’m not as big as Beckham,” he winks playfully.

“You should be offended. I’d like to apologise on behalf of my wife for this entire encounter. Keep up the great work. And good luck this season.” Theo and Gareth exchange a matey handshake. I attempt to walk by him, but Theo surprises me by pulling me in for a hug. “Don’t run,” he whispers in my ear. I pull back, my brow furrowed. “Just don’t run. It’s worth it,” he repeats, clearly unfazed by Gareth, whom I can feel shooting daggers behind me.

Doing my best to shake off Theo’s unexpected propaganda, we greet the rest of the bridal party, including Frank. “Christ, Vi, you look as if you belong on every teenage boy’s splattered ceiling!”

“Frank! You’re disgusting,” Finley crows and whacks him on the arm. “Hi, Vi, you look beautiful.”

We exchange pleasantries with the rest of the family. But just when I think we’re going to graze right past Hayden since his back is turned, Frank clears his throat loudly and unsubtly barks out, “Hayden, you Wanker!”

Hayden’s head pops up curiously and he turns. His serious grey eyes find mine instantly. Heat blossoms between us, and I feel a blush move up my neck and fill my cheeks. I glance down at his white button-down dress shirt, beige tweed-fitted trousers, and brown braces that Leslie says Americans call hipster suspenders. I’m going to ignore the fact that his trousers are tailored to his build within an inch of their life. I’m not going to notice the taut fabric of his cotton shirt around his sculpted biceps. I don’t care about how he’s not wearing a tie, so two popped buttons reveal just enough of his sculpted chest to remind me of how he looks shirtless. And who really cares that his copper blond hair is disheveled in that artful way that makes it look like he’s just f*cked someone’s brains out.

Deep breath.

“Vi,” he begins and reaches his hand out to me.

Before his fingers can graze mine, Gareth swoops in, turning his back on Hayden and firmly gripping the side of my arm. “We need to keep the line moving.” The set of his jaw is demanding, but looking at Hayden’s hopeful expression on the other side of him makes me pause.

“Just a minute, Gareth,” I say softly, my eyes never leaving Hayden’s.

“Vi,” he warns.

Ignoring him, I shove past his barrier-acting body and see a flicker of relief smear over Hayden’s face with my approach. Shooting him a tight smile, I stick out my hand.