She was more of a carnation girl herself; preferring the lush density of their sea anemone blooms, the way their leaking scent could fill a wedding chapel.
Silence crackled down the line until she realised he was joking. She had a grainy photo and his three-word bio; stylish, sporty, sensitive.
“Just tell me what you’ll be wearing.”
“Black and white stripes. Like me, a real classic.”
She laughed, imagining rippling pecs under fleece soft Breton, gym-toned arms holding her against his chest.
Newcastle United 1970 Retro, not what she was expecting.