Marry Me: The Proposal Plan / Single Dad, Nurse Bride / Millionaire in Command. Lynne Marshall
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She looked at him miserably. ‘It’s what he hasn’t done.’
‘I’m not following.’
She sighed. ‘We’ve been together now for, what, two years. It’s all going fine, ticking along, you know.’ He nodded encouragingly. ‘And at Christmas, I thought that was going to be it…’
‘What was going to be it?’ His head had begun to ache. He wished she’d get to the point.
‘When he gave me the necklace. You know, the moon-shaped silver one?’ She searched his face. Gabriel had no idea what she was talking about but nodded anyway. ‘He handed the box over with this big grand gesture and I thought for sure that was it. I would open it and there would be the ring.’ She held a hand out, palm upturned, as if expecting the non-existent ring to materialise there in front of her eyes.
So this was it.
‘You mean you thought he was going to propose and it turned out he’d bought you a necklace?’ He laughed, feeling an unexpected flash of passing sympathy for Ed. Women. Sometimes there was no pleasing them. ‘Hey, at least he bought you a necklace!’
She threw her hands up in exasperation. ‘You’re missing the point. What was last night?’
He scratched his head. ‘You’ve got me. Saturday night?’
She shoved him. ‘No, you idiot. It was Valentine’s Day, wasn’t it? Surely you must remember that—the postman probably got a hernia heaving your sackload of cards up the steps.’ She looked away and muttered disgustedly almost to herself, ‘I can’t believe you don’t remember.’
‘Of course, of course, Valentine’s Day. I did get a few cards as it happens.’ He glanced at the waste-paper bin in the corner, into which he’d dropped all the love-related correspondence of the previous day.
‘I don’t care about your cards! It was Valentine’s Day, and Ed had booked a table at our favourite restaurant, that Italian one, you know. And he’d told me he had something special to discuss with me. And I thought, well…’
Gabriel sighed. He could see where this was heading. ‘You thought he was going to propose.’
‘Yes.’
‘And did he?’
‘No! He started going on about this investment opportunity and wondering if I might consider putting some money in. The bakery has been doing pretty well lately…’ She trailed off miserably.
Gabriel looked at her, torn between concern for her and amusement. He’d known, of course, that she had a bit of a dream of ending up with the perfect happily ever after. Marriage, two-point-four children and a dog. How could he not know that when they’d been friends for so long? After the insecurities of her childhood it made perfect sense that she would want to build her own secure family in later life. But he’d never seriously considered it would happen in the foreseeable future; she was far too ambitious and engrossed in her growing business. And he’d never for a moment considered Ed as…
As what? Competition? His stomach did a slow and unexpected flip, adding to the hangover symptoms he was gradually developing. Where the hell had that thought come from? As permanent fixture material, he corrected himself. He must really need some sleep; he wasn’t thinking straight. He put a hand to his head and massaged his temples with his thumb and forefinger. ‘Lu, it’s just one of those things. He hasn’t done this to upset you—he probably hasn’t got a clue you feel like this. Did you tell him?’
She shook her head.
‘You know what Ed’s like. It probably doesn’t occur to him that you might like him to propose marriage.’ Gabriel didn’t particularly consider Ed to be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but, even if he was, mind-reading was likely to be beyond him. ‘It doesn’t mean he isn’t happy, does it?’
She shrugged. He decided to try a more brutal tack. He felt an unexpected compulsion to talk her out of the marriage dream. Nothing to do with disliking Ed. If anything he was completely neutral on that subject. But Lucy was only just approaching thirty. She was far too ambitious to settle down; this would turn out to be one of her temporary crazes. Occasionally she got a mad idea into her head and threw her heart and soul into it, only to tire of it ten minutes later. The only thing she’d ever been totally committed to was creative cookery.
Straight talking was what was needed here. He took a deep breath. ‘Look, Lucy, you really need to get over this sudden obsession with settling down, with marriage. Marriage isn’t the be-all and end-all of everything these days, you know. Loads of people are happy just dating long term, or maybe moving in together. And don’t forget your business has just taken off. Ed probably just thinks there’s no rush.’ As an afterthought he added, ‘And he’s right.’
She shook her head vigorously. ‘You’re not getting it. I know loads of people don’t go for marriage these days and that’s up to them. But this is about me. And for me moving in together is a cop out. Not enough.’
She looked up at him, her green eyes wide and clear. He felt as if he could see every fleck of colour in them. ‘My parents just lived together and one or other of them was always either about to leave, leaving, or left. Maybe if they’d been married they might have taken it all a bit more seriously. Moving in is not enough of a commitment. Not for me. Not deep down.’ She made a fist and pressed it against her flat stomach. ‘Ed has no excuse. He’s more than up for getting married when we discuss it in principle, which we have done loads of times.’
Gabriel stood up and started back to the kitchen. He needed coffee and painkillers. Not necessarily in that order. The hangover was kicking in with a vengeance.
She called after him. ‘He’s quite happy to say of course he wants to get married one day. But when it comes to actually stepping up to the plate and making it official? Nothing! I’ve had it up to here!’ She indicated a level somewhere above her head. ‘I obviously attract commitment-phobic men. And so that’s why I’ve come to get your help.’
He stopped in his tracks halfway to the door and looked back at her dubiously. ‘What do you mean, my help? What the hell can I do?’
‘You have loads of girlfriends, right? And you’re the most commitment-shy person I know.’
‘Well, yes… I mean no.’ He tried to work out if there was a compliment or insult in there and decided there was probably both. ‘How is this relevant?’
‘Well, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands,’ she said firmly. ‘There’s no point hanging around waiting for Ed to get his act together. I’ll be ninety before that happens and my clock is ticking.’
Gabriel pulled a revolted face. ‘OK, can we not talk about the clock-ticking thing? Men don’t want to know about that biological time-bomb stuff. In fact, if you’ve mentioned that to Ed, it could be your reason right there.’
She held up a hand to shut him up. ‘Exactly my point. You can advise me on all this kind of thing.’
He raised his eyebrows at her quizzically.
‘Where I’m going wrong, of course. Why he isn’t falling over himself to get a ring on my finger.’ She warmed to her subject. ‘You must have a wealth of experience just waiting to be tapped. You can show me how to be totally irresistible to him. And then…’ she swept past him into the kitchen and crashing sounds began as she started to make the coffee herself ‘… I’m going to ask him to marry me. On February twenty-ninth.’
He thought for a moment she might actually be going mad.
‘It’s a leap year,’ she supplied helpfully, as if she had read his mind. ‘Women have a chance, no, a right to propose to their man on this day, once every four years. And you are going to help me do it in a way which means he will have to say yes!’
Hangover forgotten, he barged into the kitchen behind her. She’d had some crazy ideas in her time, but this…