Marry Me: The Proposal Plan / Single Dad, Nurse Bride / Millionaire in Command

A wry smile.

‘So am I forgiven?’ He looked at her hopefully.

She smiled at him properly this time and he felt a surge of relief that made his head swim. ‘You are forgiven,’ she said. ‘But only on condition that you quit stepping outside your remit. I asked you for a few pointers on how to propose. I didn’t expect you to try and counsel me about my past like some agony aunt. Agreed?’

He could hear the tiredness in her voice but she sounded absolutely resolute. He was prepared to accept anything at this moment in order to make it all right.

‘Agreed,’ he said, thankfully. Standing up, he hooked another chair from the corner of the room with one foot and pulled it over, sitting down next to her.

She loosened her unruly curls and caught them back up, forcing the pencil more securely through them. ‘Anyway, things didn’t turn out so badly after all,’ she told him, without meeting his eyes. ‘I took your advice and went to see my dad.’ And without waiting for any further response from him she stood up and went back to the worktop, picking up the spatula and scooping a blob of the green macaroon mixture onto some baking paper.

‘Oh?’ He didn’t dare venture any comment for fear of saying the wrong thing. She’d only just forgiven his behaviour and there was no way he intended to risk another argument.

She glanced briefly around at him. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe it, either. I’m really proud of myself. I was so angry with you for suggesting I let them back into my life. You had no right. But the trouble was, once you’d said it I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It drove me mad, until I just had to go and see him to find out how I really feel.’

‘And how do you really feel?’ He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to that.

‘Well, I’m not scared of him any more.’ She put the spatula down and turned to face him, leaning back against the worktop. ‘You should see him, Gabe. He’s just a sad old man now. His drinking doesn’t look any better but he seems to be holding down a job, so it can’t be that terrible, can it? I feel like maybe I could have a relationship with him now on my own terms. I have my own life now and I can choose how much of a part he plays in that. I’m totally in control.’ She smiled at him and his heart felt as if it would liquefy at the relief he saw in her face. ‘It’s a good feeling. I’ve been putting him out of my mind for so long. It’s so lovely not to have to do that any more.’

It was no good. He had to ask the question that bothered him the most. ‘And how’s things with Ed?’ He kept his voice as neutral as he could, betraying no feelings.

The oven alarm sounded suddenly and they both jumped. Lucy broke their eye contact to cross the room and remove some cupcakes. With her back to him she was mercifully unable to see the agony that crossed Gabriel’s face as she said, ‘Good, thanks. If anything this has made me more certain than ever.’ She put the cakes down on a cooling rack and turned back to him, removing the oven gloves from her hands.

‘Really? You’re going ahead with the proposal?’ His heart felt like lead in his chest. As if someone had wrung it suddenly, or maybe stamped on it.

‘Yes.’ She took a skewer from the counter and stabbed it into one of the cupcakes. ‘You’ve done me a favour, Gabe. If I wasn’t sure before I damn well am now. I can’t change my past but I can shape my future. What I have with Ed is based on the most important things. All the things that were missing for my parents, why their relationship was such a train wreck. Ed and I don’t compare with what they were. I can make my own family now and I know I’ll get it right.’

Gabriel’s heart constricted in his chest. He forced himself to smile at her. ‘Great. That’s great. I’m sure it will all be fine.’

She looked really happy. Tired but determined. And she’d been through so much. He dug his nails into his palms so hard that they left a mark. Because of your selfish desire to keep her to yourself you’ve put her through hell this last week. Well, no more. As he stood there in that moment he hated himself more than he’d ever hated anyone. He, who was supposed to care about her, not caring how much he hurt her as long as the outcome was what he wanted. He now admitted to himself that he loved her. That he’d loved her for years. It was pointless denying it. Too late to tell her now and it served him right. How could he turn her life upside down again when she was so happy and settled?

He made a decision on the spot. He would back right off. And with good grace this time. No petulant outbursts like the one he’d had in Smith’s. She would get married to Ed. Live a long and happy life with her kids and her business. And he would stick with the role of friend. Embrace it and be grateful for it. This week he’d proved to himself that he was barely worthy of that.

She was moving the cupcakes onto a rack now, her attention totally taken up with them. He needed to get out of here.

‘I’ll get going now, Lu. I can see you’re busy.’ He walked steadily across the room and leaned over her shoulder to kiss her cheek. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the scent of her. She smelled sweet, like vanilla, and he felt his body respond instantly, involuntarily. He clenched his fists tightly and stepped away immediately as if burned. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that she didn’t even notice.

‘OK,’ she said without looking up. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then. What time are you picking me up?’

He floundered momentarily. What the hell was she talking about? And then he remembered. His work dinner. That would be some kind of torture now. But maybe he could use it as an opportunity to work on their friendship. Set some new boundaries that might help him to let go of the image of her as something more than a friend. As his lover. Find a way to help him carry on as just her friend.

‘I’ll pick you up at seven,’ he called over his shoulder on the way out. He didn’t wait for an answer.

CHAPTER SEVEN

LUCY looked appraisingly at her reflection in the mirror. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a cocktail dress. College ball, maybe? Even then she didn’t think she’d ever worn anything as lovely as this. Following the success of the personal shopping session, she’d picked a dress outside the scope of what she would normally wear. It was a simple sheath of black silk, ankle length and bias cut so it skimmed her body in all the right places, giving the impression of curves for once despite the fact she hardly had any. The spaghetti straps showed off the creamy skin of her shoulders and the back was daringly low cut. She had bought a soft black wrap to go with it. The whole outfit had cost more than she could remember spending on one shopping trip, ever. But she’d done her best to ignore her frugal instincts. Gabriel would be proud of her progress, she thought. With a lot of work and plenty of hair products she’d even managed to tame her curls for once. She’d pinned the front sections back and the bulk of her hair cascaded over her bare shoulders and down her back. A few tendrils escaped, framing her face.

A normal night out for her was a meal down at the local pub with Ed, for which she barely made the effort to wash the flour out of her hair. She sprayed perfume in a cloud and walked into it, the way the magazines said you should. She had to admit that she was enjoying the evening so far. It was lovely to get dressed up for a change.

She wouldn’t let herself think about Gabriel in any other way than as a friend. That had all been some minor head rush, cold feet about settling down, nothing more. The argument about her parents had made it easier to ignore those feelings; she had been so angry with him. She refused to think about the way her heart had raced at the bakery yesterday when Gabriel had apologised and had looked into her eyes and held her hands. Furious anger with him followed by the misplaced heart-thumping desire that she’d spent the last days fighting. Two extremes.

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