The Wedding Date: The laugh out loud romantic comedy of the year!. Zara Stoneley

one piece?’

      I swallow hard, and blink. I’m not quite sure if it’s his touch or that smooth, concerned voice that’s responsible for the weird sensation. I think even my scalp has got goose bumps.

      ‘No harm done.’ It comes out a bit shaky, with a very nervous laugh at the end that I didn’t intend at all.

      Sarah looks like a cat watching a ping-pong game, her gaze switching rapidly from Jake to me, and back again. ‘I’ll er, leave you to it, shall I? Catch you later?’ At least I think that’s what she says, but I can’t really concentrate.

      He’s staring at me. ‘I think you need to sit down, you’re in shock.’

      ‘I, er, do feel a bit wobbly.’

      ‘I’m sorry, I should have met you at the kennels, but I never thought they’d give you Tank. I’ll have words.’

      ‘Oh no, no, don’t have words.’ Jake being all masterful is sending goose bumps down my arms (they seem to be getting everywhere), and it would be quite nice to see somebody wading in to support me. But not very fair on the staff. ‘It was my fault, I said I’d be fine, I am, er, used to dogs.’

      ‘Are you sure? You could have been hurt.’ He’s looking at me like he seriously cares, and my legs are going a bit wobbly.

      ‘I’m fine.’

      ‘You sound breathless.’

      That is probably down to my close proximity to him, not my adventures with Tank. He even smells good.

      My dream was sending out the right signals, he’s already saved me, and we’re nowhere near Scotland yet.

      His eyes really are as amazing close up as they were in the photos and from the other side of the restaurant. He’s got this steady gaze that makes me feel like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. Which could be dangerous.

      ‘Well, if you’re sure.’ Eek, his thumb is on my cheek. ‘Mud.’ His smile is so familiar, I feel like I’ve known him for ages. ‘There, that’s better.’ My face might now be clean, but there is no hope for the rest of me.

      ‘We’ll walk round slowly, shall we? Then grab a coffee? I’ll take Tank, I’m used to him. Here, you hold little Angel, and somebody else can take the other two dogs.’

      Angel who is about six inches tall, and looks like a waft of breeze would carry her away, looks up at me trustingly. I like Angel. I also like Jake.

      ‘You did a great job of hanging on to him, most people would have let go.’

      I rather wish I’d been most people, but Jake thinks I’ve done a great job, which makes me feel warm inside.

      Miraculously though, just like that, Tank seems to have lost his head of steam. Maybe Jake is also a dog whisperer, as well as an actor.

      Even at a slow-for-Tank walk, we lap most of the other volunteers who are sauntering along as though they’re on a Sunday morning stroll – which helps to dry me out. At least I’m going too fast to feel embarrassed. I really wish I’d gone for a date that involved wine, not fresh air and four-legged furries in need of a good home. I need to lie down.

      ‘So…’ Jake is studying me out of the corner of his eye, which is a bit unnerving and distracts me from the need to lie down. ‘You’ve not been here before?’

      ‘No, does it show?’ We both laugh, at exactly the same time.

      ‘I don’t know what got into Em, giving you this thug.’

      I have got a feeling I know what got into Em. ‘It’s not a problem, honest. I’m fine.’ And I now know that he is more than capable of rescuing me from Loch Ness monsters, or any other attacks. His protective streak is a definite mark in his favour, not that I’ve found any reason not to beg him to come to Scotland with me.

      ‘He’s a nice dog really.’

      ‘Just big.’

      ‘Just big.’ We walk along in companionable silence for a bit, and it doesn’t feel awkward at all. ‘Amy tells me you work at the travel agent’s in town?’

      ‘I do, so if you ever need a discount…’

      ‘I might take you up on that sometime, must be handy.’

      ‘And you’re an actor?’

      ‘I am, you might have caught my finest TV moment.’ I glance at him. If this is a test, I’ve failed; I haven’t caught any of his TV moments.

      ‘Erm.’

      He’s grinning, the faintest of lines fanning out from those mesmerising eyes. ‘You don’t mean you missed it? Tut. Watch Holby City?’

      ‘Well, yes.’ I’m wracking my brain, trying to picture him with a stethoscope and failing. Well, I can picture him with a stethoscope, but I certainly can’t picture him in an episode of Holby. Maybe I missed one.

      ‘I was in the third bed along, second episode this season.’

      ‘Ah.’

      ‘Arm in a sling.’ He laughs, and Tank jumps up and licks his cheek.

      ‘So is that what you want to do? TV?’

      ‘Jake!’ A girl yells his name and I realise with a jolt that we’re back near the kennels. Which is a shame. I’d quite like to know what he wants to do.

      ‘I’ll take the dogs if you like, and you can clean up?’ He’s grinning as he speaks, which he seems to do quite a lot, and I look down at my clothes. I’d almost forgotten about the mud. Almost. ‘I’ll catch you in the café, and we can chat more?’

      ‘Great, I’d like to.’

      ‘And you can tell me more about your indecent proposal.’ The way he says it makes me blush, and the wink leaves me dithering between objecting and wishing it actually was supposed to be indecent.

      He whisks Angel up into his arms and has gone before my mushy brain can think up a suitably snappy reply.

       Chapter 7

      When I get back to reception it is to find a new teenager-cum-twenty-something, who is just like Em. She is trying her hardest not to smirk, and makes no comment whatsoever about the wide strip of mud that covers the front of me from head to toe. She does tell me where the bathroom is though, and where to find Sarah.

      ‘I hope nobody filmed that,’ I whisper to Sarah, suddenly having visions of it being on their Facebook page. ‘It could be all over the internet.’

      ‘I doubt it, I mean it was funny but it isn’t going to help with rehoming him, is it?’ She grins. ‘I might have tweeted a picture though.’

      ‘You didn’t?’

      ‘Naw, don’t worry, I was too busy laughing, couldn’t hold my phone steady. Well?’

      ‘Well what?’ I studiously avoid her gaze in the mirror and concentrate on washing myself down.

      ‘Well, what did you talk about? Is he nice? Will he do it?’ She pauses, and leans in closer. ‘Do you fancy him?’

      I don’t know which bits to ignore, and which to answer. I decide to offer highlights. ‘His name is Jake Porter, not Taylor-Smith, because Amy is his half-sister, they’ve got the same mum. Her dad was a writer and he ran off with his agent, and it was a massive scandal. Jake doesn’t know his dad as his mum had a fling, but now she’s met somebody that everybody likes and they’ve got this enormous family.’

      ‘Wow, you two must have hit it off, you got up close and personal.’

      I frown at my own reflection. When I say it, it sounds like we