Without Further Ado by Jessica Dettmann

Author:Jessica Dettmann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2023-02-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

From the moment the Kombi pulled up outside the Smiths’ house, it seemed to Willa that everything sped up. Ewan was waiting out on the nature strip, and beside him Gladstone was so excited he began opening the sliding van door before they’d even stopped.

‘Here she is, here she is! Imogen, you stunner. Goodness me, if I were forty years younger and not the father of the groom . . .’ He cackled at his own joke and held out his arm to Imogen as she stepped onto the footpath.

A flurry of greetings followed, with Willa’s and Imogen’s parents falling over each other to shake hands and kiss Gladstone, and to lavish compliments on his house. Willa watched Jenny and Jo exchange meaningful glances — the sort that Willa knew from experience meant the value of this house would be top of the agenda for a serious chat and some deep googling later, once they were home. They knew no one else who owned a house like this.

Less discreet than his wife and her sister, Uncle Gordon nudged Willa and murmured, ‘What would this go for? Gotta be over five mill.’

Willa didn’t reply, but subtly pointed up.

‘What, more?’

‘In the teens, I’d say,’ she whispered. ‘Wait until you see inside, and the view out the back.’

‘Dad,’ Imogen called to him. ‘Come stand by me.’

Gordon darted to his daughter’s side and Ewan moved next to Willa. She looked at him in his three-piece blue suit, his pink tie slightly askew. He looked amazing. How did good suits do that to men? How could such a miraculous garment exist that made every man look seventy per cent more handsome and infinitely more . . . what was the word? Dashing. Of course. It was a dated word but there wasn’t anything else quite right.

‘Aren’t you going to tell me how smart I look?’ he asked.

‘You know exactly how smart you look. You don’t need me to tell you.’

‘Maybe I’d like you to tell me anyway.’ He spoke quietly, sounding unguarded.

She glanced at him again. ‘Ewan, you are quite the fine figure of a man in that suit. Dashing is what sprang to mind. But your tie is all skew-whiff.’

He looked down. ‘Can you please fix it for me?’

She hesitated. It was such a cliche, adjusting a man’s tie: a moment of contact, face to face, but not eye to eye, lingering. It would give her family completely the wrong idea about Ewan and they’d spend the entire wedding hassling her about him. And the way his voice had just sounded was confusing: the last time his voice had been all low and nervous like that was just before he chose not to kiss her, all those years ago. She needed to learn how to read this man better.

‘I don’t know how to tie a tie,’ she said briskly. ‘Is everyone ready inside? I’ll bet Angus looks even better than you.’

The sudden slamming of four car doors drew her attention, and Willa looked

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