The Bridal Bet. Trish Wylie

The Bridal Bet - Trish Wylie


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calmly. ‘Okay, Callaghan, you’re on. Let’s just hope—’ she moved close to him to brush an imaginary speck of dirt from his shirt ‘—you can take the heat.’

      Ryan stared at her, his throat suddenly dry. What had he started? From past history he just knew that his payback would be a nightmare. Molly would make sure of that.

      He grinned. Bring it on.

      CHAPTER TWO

      End of summer—fifteen years ago

      ‘FRIENDS don’t kiss.’

      ‘Ever?’

      Molly thought for a moment, her long legs tucked beneath her on the large sofa. It was the last night of the summer holidays and in the morning their two families would part again for another year. To celebrate the last evening they had had a huge barbecue by the lough before returning to Ryan’s family’s summerhouse. While the adults had drunk wine, chatting on the porch, the two kids had sat themselves in front of a video in the family room.

      ‘Never.’

      Ryan studied her profile carefully. ‘What about when they say goodbye or wish each other a happy birthday?’

      ‘That’s different. Those are friendly kisses.’

      ‘And the difference would be…?’ She had piqued his interest and he wondered just what the extent of her knowledge could be at her age.

      Molly avoided looking directly at him. Instead she kept her gaze focused on the television screen as she watched the source of their debate. They had been watching When Harry met Sally.

      Out of the corner of his eye he had seen Molly blush a crimson-red during the café scene when Meg Ryan had demonstrated her talent for faking it. He had impressed himself by not laughing at her reaction. After all, it wasn’t that he was that much more experienced than she was. A few fumblings in the darkness of a cinema or the back seat of a friend’s car on a Saturday evening hardly made for a sex-life to brag about.

      ‘You know.’ She blushed again.

      ‘Yes, I do know.’ He smiled teasingly. ‘I’m just curious to see if you do.’

      Molly knew she should never have allowed this particular debate to begin. They didn’t talk about stuff like this, and she was so embarrassed she wanted to have the sofa open up and swallow her.

      ‘Well, let’s just say I know the difference.’

      ‘So, go on, then.’

      ‘Fine.’ By the time she spun to face him he’d already realised that he’d sparked her temper. It was her best defence in times of difficulty. And, boy, did she have a temper. ‘You want to ruin our last night by being dumb and teasing me, then that’s just fine. I don’t really know, and you know I don’t really know. I’ve never been kissed by a boy before. Not that way. Satisfied now? But I know there should be a difference.’

      Ryan reached out and touched her arm. ‘I wasn’t trying to be mean. I was just wondering what you’d say.’

      ‘Well, now you know.’ She pulled her arm away from him and leaned back, her mouth pouting slightly. ‘And how am I ever supposed to find out when I look like this? Boys don’t kiss girls who look like me. They kiss pretty girls.’

      ‘I thought you said boys were stupid?’

      A frown creased her forehead. ‘They are. But I guess it would be nice to have one even slightly interested in kissing me.’

      Ryan smiled his lop-sided smile as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. ‘O’Brien, I’ll make you a deal.’

      Turning her head towards him, she raised an eyebrow. ‘What kind of deal?’

      ‘Well…’ He leaned towards her, his voice low. ‘If you haven’t found out what it’s like to be kissed by the time you’re eighteen, I’ll kiss you.’

      Her eyes widened. ‘You?’

      ‘Yes, me.’

      Molly stared. ‘Kiss me?’

      ‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘Kiss you. On your eighteenth birthday.’

      She continued staring at him, as if suddenly seeing a side of him she’d never noticed before. Then she laughed and laughed, until tears fell from her eyes.

      ‘Not in this lifetime.’

      ‘I heard a rumour today in the newsagent’s.’

      Molly didn’t lift her head as her friend and neighbour-to-be perched herself against the counter in front of her. Molly had opened the new gift shop in the forest park with Kate not long after coming home. She used one side of the store to display and sell mounted copies of her work, her one true love. Photography.

      They had spent the morning selling various mugs, sticks of rock, key chains and guidebooks to two coachloads of tourists, as well as two of Molly’s more expensive photographs of wildlife on the lough. So it was the first opportunity they’d had to talk since the weekend’s barbecue.

      Molly knew only too well what rumour Kate was referring to.

      ‘Did you, now?’

      ‘Uh-huh.’

      ‘Well, they do say the newsagent’s is the place to get news.’ Still she didn’t look up from the counter.

      Kate waved her hand underneath Molly’s nose until she looked at her. ‘You know rightly what rumour I’m talking about, and don’t you dare tell me you don’t.’

      ‘Come on, Kate, we both know how active kids’ imaginations can be.’ She tried her best to look sincere as she smiled at Kate, one of her closest friends. As she looked at Kate’s trusting eyes she also remembered the crush she had had on Ryan when they were teenagers. But Kate was a married woman now, and happily heavy with child.

      Her friend smiled smugly. ‘I don’t think I mentioned any kids.’

      Molly blushed a fiery red, which she was sure wasn’t matching her hair colour well. ‘Kate, I’d really rather not talk about this.’

      ‘Oh, no, you don’t. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.’ She made herself comfortable leaning on the counter. ‘Tell Auntie Kate all about it, and don’t you dare skip any details.’

      As she looked at her friend Molly knew she couldn’t tell her the truth. Kate had never understood the challenges that she and Ryan had aimed at each other over the years. Kate was a happily—no, blissfully married woman, who adored her husband and wanted the rest of the world to be as in love as they were. How could Molly tell her why they were doing this? It would be easier to tell her the version of the truth that she wanted to hear, and then she and Ryan could just ‘split up’, as they’d planned, in three months’ time. Kate would be none the wiser. Simple.

      ‘What do you want to know?’

      Kate hit her on the shoulder. ‘Aw, come on, Molly. Did Ryan kiss you at the barbecue or not?’

      That at least wasn’t a lie. ‘Yes, he did.’ She blushed again.

      ‘And?’

      ‘And what?’

      Kate sighed dramatically. ‘It’s like getting blood out of a stone. What was it like? Why did he kiss you now, after all this time? What’s going on? ’Cos you know I’ve always wondered what it was with you two.’

      Molly’s eyes widened. She stared incredulously at her friend. ‘You have? How come you’ve never said so? I mean, you of all people have always known how I felt about Ryan, so what on earth made you think—?’

      ‘Molly, it’s Ryan Callaghan we’re talking about, here. I could never understand why you can’t see what’s absolutely plain as day to everyone else with a pulse. The man is


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