M y mother's faint voice wafted out from one of the back rooms. "Is that the delivery men?" I heard her call .

I hadn't heard anything, but that wasn't surprising. I turned over the pencil I'd been doodling with and tried to erase the marks I'd made on one of the place-cards. "I didn't hear anything," I called back to her .

The tent delivery was late. Of course. They'd probably gotten lost on one of the twisting country roads that wound through the small village of Briscombe before heading up the low, sloping hill to the Hall. None of the routes to our place were direct. They all twisted and turned around on themselves, meandering and doubling back on the way up to our estate like they were too shy to face it head on. You could usually hear vehicles coming from very far off, which meant no one could ever really drop in and surprise us. But I'd heard nothing right now .

"Could you check, please?" my mother called from a different point in the house than she'd been a minute ago .

I grinned. She was anxious. Hearing things. "Checking!" I replied, humoring her. I stood up straighter and tried to fix the waistband of my jeans. My fat jeans, if truth be told, and even those were starting to get too tight. I tugged unsuccessfully, then opened the door and stepped out of the main house and into the sunshine .

Then I stood there squinting in the light like some kind of hairless creature that usually dwelt underground .

The sun blazed down on a world so colorful it seared my eyeballs. The green of the grass and the blue of the sky had both taken on a vibrancy that reminded me of upping the saturation levels on a photo. The landscape looked surreal. Like a dream .

And it was hot. So hot. Holy fucksticks, was it hot. In the two steps it took me to cross the sweeping front porch and peer out onto the lane that wound below the main house, I had broken out into a prickly sweat all over my body. There was no sign of a delivery van, or any signs of life, really. Just an endlessly blue, unreal sky that reminded me of Hudson Grant's eyes .

Fuck. I was thinking about him again .

Blinking, I wiped my forehead and then stepped back in to the great room and shut the door against the heat .

But it was no cooler indoors, I realized. Briscombe Hall was on a list of historic places and the historical society frowned on tearing out priceless, culturally relevant woodwork to slap in the proper ductwork required for air conditioning .

It honestly wasn't like we needed it. Not usually, anyways. England's summers tended to be short and cool. But not today of course. "Bloody Christ," I sighed, wiping my forehead again. I was sweating like a longshoreman on holiday .

"Tallula," my mother gently admonished as she swept into the room. Her arms were laden down with old boxes. "Language ."

It wasn't usually my habit to apologize for swearing... or really anything, when it came down to it. But this was my mum. "Sorry," I mumbled automatically as I came over to inspect her latest finds. "Bad habit from uni ."

"Right, well." She set down the stack of family pictures she had dredged up from some dark corner of the house. Then she leaned back up again, mopping delicately at her face with her handkerchief. "I disagree with the language used, but not the sentiment expressed. It truly is far too hot ."

"They're saying tomorrow should be the hottest June day on record." I shook my head. I felt like I was wilting. "The British are not cut out for this." Then I glanced outside the windows towards the back gardens and brightened a little. "However," I went on. "It is days like this that having a pool comes in handy, wouldn't you say ?"

My mother had been leafing through the old photos, trying to locate ones of my brother to display at the wedding, but at that, she looked back up again and raised an eyebrow at me. "Did I hear a request in there ?"

I grinned. "Right. Well, you may disagree, but we've been working like dogs all day long on this project of yours. And frankly, Mother? I'm not entirely certain that Niall is going to appreciate you dragging out all of the pictures of him all spotty with bowl cut. He may not have informed his bride about what a hopeless little twat he was back in the day ."

"Language," Mum repeated tiredly, even though a smile was tugging that the corner of her mouth. She glanced down at one of the recovered photos and broke out in laughter. "Oh my word, look at this. Do you remember when he wore that bathrobe everywhere because he thought he looked Japanese ?"

I giggled and leaned over her shoulder. In it, my older brother - probably aged twelve if the state of his orthodontia was any indication - was striking a pose with his guitar. "Always with that Billy Idol impression," I laughed. "I tried to warn him it made him look like a bee stung him in the mouth, but he didn't listen to me." I shook my head. "Then again, he still doesn't listen to me." I looked more closely, trying to pinpoint the event this photo had captured. Christmas? Birthday ?

"He doesn't listen to anyone except Reese these days," Mum sighed. "Good thing she has a level head on her shoulders. I trust her more than I trust my own son, to be honest ."

"You always were a wise woman," I deadpanned, inspecting the picture closely. In the space behind the posing Niall, I caught a glimpse of a pink slipper I thought I recognized from way back. "Is that me back there with the terrible face?" I squinted to see my six year old self frowning ferociously back at me. "Was I hiding from the camera ?"

My mother squinted. "Probably. My word, what a face!" She reached up and tucked my chin length hair behind my ear. "You were never shy about letting us know your feelings about your brother's antics. Come to think of it, you've never really been shy about letting us know your feelings on much of anything," she added .

"I know, I know, I wear my heart on my sleeve." This was not news to me .

Mum gave me an affectionately beleaguered smile and moved to slide her hand around my waist. Automatically I shied away from her, not willing to let her feel how much weight I'd gained while away at uni. "You wear your heart in a tatty old purse you're always leaving around for questionable people to rummage around in," she corrected .

"Untrue. I have not left my heart with anyone," I protested. "There's no one out there who could properly handle it anyway." I blinked and then grinned at her. "And besides, you're changing the subject away from me weaseling out of this project ."

She laughed as I quickly made my case. "Right, so, I've pulled out all the photos I could find and set them over there." I gestured to the table. "That was all I could find in the upper floors." I narrowed my eyes at her. "You're not actually planning on making poor Reese look through them all, are you? Please promise me no. She might well call the wedding off and run screaming from the country ."

"I just thought she'd want to see pictures of Niall growing up," my mother sighed wistfully... then grinned back. "Oh my heavens, I sound like such a Mum, don't I ?"

"You are such a Mum," I agreed, leaning down to kiss her soft cheek. "And the question you heard implied in my voice just now was, 'mind if I beg off of photo excavation duty and go for a dip in the pool ?'"

My mother sighed. "Of course not. But remember, Niall and the lads are arriving later this afternoon ."

I nodded and looked away. "I'll be done before then," I promised her. And myself .

The idea of being caught in the pool when my brother arrived with Ewan and Jules in tow was bad enough. If they saw me in my bathing suit, I'd never hear the end of it .

But if Hudson saw me? With my newly squishy body spilling out of my swimsuit like over-risen dough in a loaf pan? With my fine hair plastered all over my face and makeup streaking down my cheeks ?

Absolutely not. I was pretty sure he already thought I was a disaster. No need to confirm it for him .

I glanced outside again and glared at the brilliantly blue sky. Most days it was gray and drizzling, the color of nothingness. Why today, of all days, did it have to be different ?

How dare it have the nerve to be the exact color blue of his eyes today, the day I'd be seeing him for the first time in a year? A year, almost to the day, since we'd made the mistake of stealing a quick, ill-advised kiss that no one - not my brother, not the band, not even my best friends - could ever know about .