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Reunited on Wedding Island

Written by Sophie Pembroke

Chapter Nine

As much as she loved running the parties for the kids, Haven had to admit she quite enjoyed waving them off as they left with their parents, too.

The service was over, all the photos had been taken, and the assuredly fantastic meal the chefs had brought in from Barcelona to La Isla Marina had been preparing was ready. Valentina apparently felt very strongly about the importance of family and, now that the boring bits (for kids, at least) were out of the way she wanted the children to be there to enjoy the tapas-style wedding breakfast, as well as the music and dancing they had planned.

The wedding was a traditional Spanish affair, so the ceremony had taken place in the early evening, and the partying would go on long into the night. Given how much energy some of the kids had expended playing with her team that afternoon, she suspected there’d be a lot of little ones sleeping against their parents shoulders before the dancing was done.

Haven liked the sound of it. So much less formal than a lot of the celebrity weddings she’d attended, the whole celebration seemed to have far more to do with Valentina and Todd than with impressing others. She liked that.

And she really liked the idea of getting out of her mermaid tail, heading back up to the main villa at the centre of the island, and eating with the rest of the staff, after the guests had finished.

Unfortunately it seemed that Miles Jackson had other ideas.

They were just finishing packing up the last of the props and games, and Yasmin was cheerfully tossing hacky sacks into the bag Eddie was holding a few metres away, cheering when she scored a hit. Haven looked up and laughed at Yasmin’s latest victory dance, enjoying the last of the evening sunlight on her skin—until suddenly, there was a shadow in the way.

Turning, she saw Miles Jackson watching her.

“Nice skirt,” he said, smirking down at her sequinned mermaid tail.

“Maybe if I’d worn this for our date you wouldn’t have been texting your sister to get you out of there when we’d barely even said hello,” Haven bit back. Why on earth had she imagined that Miles Jackson of all people might have hidden depths? Just because he didn’t let a little boy hurt himself on the rocks? That wasn’t hero behaviour—it was basic humanity.

But Miles blinked back at her, his jaw going slack. “Wait, how did you know that?”

Haven rolled her eyes, and went back to stacking scenery. “Because I’m not an idiot. And because I could see the reflection of your phone screen in the window behind you.”

In twenty-five years of being the least popular and interesting Hapsgood, Haven had to admit that her blind date with Miles still ranked as a serious low.

She’d expected him to deny it, or bluff it out, making excuses. But instead, Miles reached out, grabbed her hand between his, looked her right in the eye and said the last thing she’d honestly expected.

“I’m sorry.”

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Sophie Pembroke

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