Something Borrowed by Louisa George Page A

She focused back on her sister. ‘Would you like me to set you up on a date, too?’
    Jenna looked at her for a long moment. ‘Oh, can you hear Evie? I think she’s crying. I’ll take her some milk, give her a cuddle. She’s probably having a bad dream. Can you get Pride and Prejudice set up? The Keira one.’
    Jenna’s get-out plan was always to hide behind her daughter. But time would come when her daughter grew up, left home, and Jenna would be lonely. Lonelier than she was now. She deserved some good times, to share her life, to have someone to adore her, to love her.
    I’m fine on my own, Chloe thought, but Jenna would enjoy sharing things with someone ; she was a nurturer, she was kind, and she deserved someone to be there for her. Whereas, Chloe quite liked the freedom to do what she wanted, when she wanted. If it wasn’t for that wedding, she’d be entirely happy to sit inside and watch Jane Austen forever. She flicked on the TV, grabbed her wine and put the DVD in.
    Ah, those days of chivalry and manners, of men being heroic and strong and willing to face whatever challenge befell them. Men who would fight for what they believed in, who were courageous and brave and loyal. She didn’t doubt that there were many men around like that today; they just hadn’t signed up to matchyou.co.uk.
    And suddenly, unbidden, an image of Vaughn Brooks popped into her head again. This time, it was the moment when he strode towards her down the aisle in his black morning suit. Yes, there had been embarrassment in his face, but something else in his eyes. Something intense, fresh and raw. Even though he had a reputation of being unreliable and even though he couldn’t have found much in that task appealing, he had done it for his cousin, and for her. And she kept remembering it. And him. And his touch on her skin. And his smell. Everything kept coming back to him.
    Chloe had a very bad feeling about this.

    * * *
    W ith finalising details for the rehearsal coming up on Friday and the wedding on Saturday, Chloe had no time to chat with Drew online, so she was reliant on recognising him from his photo. But when she got to EAT, she couldn’t see anyone who looked remotely like him. However, she’d purposefully arrived five minutes late because she’d read that that was what you were supposed to do. But maybe that plan had backfired; perhaps he’d already left?
    One of her favourite haunts in the area, EAT was busy as always; downstairs was a cool coffee bar that had a diverse menu and shelves and shelves of books, with comfy chairs to sit and read in. While upstairs, DRINK, catered for the evening crowd with tapas and music and a great choice of wine. She ordered a ‘cheaper than Covent Garden, Mr Carlhuna, see what you’re missing?’ coffee and grabbed an empty table in a prime position so she could monitor the door. Presently a mature-looking guy walked in, wearing a crumpled suit—no, more than crumpled. He looked as if he were, basically, homeless or embracing an iron-free lifestyle. With wild greying hair, a moderate beer belly, and well into his forties.
    He glanced over and smiled. Friendly, too. She gave him a brief smile, then looked around for Drew. Unfortunately, homeless man approached. ‘DaydreamBeliever? Right? Wow—you look just like your photograph.’
    ‘Er, oh…’ And you so do not , DrewsAmused. Words failed her. He’d lied, big time.
    He grinned sheepishly. ‘Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find anyone to look after my dog.’
    That would explain the fur on his jacket. And the smell. And God forgive her, call her shallow, but this was not the man she’d been expecting, or indeed, the man she’d seen on matchyou.co.uk.
    Conflicted only went halfway to describe her dilemma. Because she wasn’t just about appearances—even though that was really all she’d had to go on—but she just knew from the second she’d set eyes on him that he was not the guy for her. She preferred her men to be