Marry Me: The Proposal Plan / Single Dad, Nurse Bride / Millionaire in Command. Lynne Marshall
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He was wearing a T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, hair still slightly damp from the shower. Ed played for a local football team and trained most Sunday mornings. He opened the fridge and took out two beers, holding one out to her. She shook her head.
‘No, thanks, I’m fine. How was training?’ She didn’t mind him playing. It was the one day of the week when she had a relaxed morning to herself. Except for this morning, of course. She felt exasperated still with Ed’s insensitivity the night before, but she was doing something about it now, wasn’t she? In a couple of weeks’ time they would be engaged. She smiled inwardly at the thought.
‘OK. Knee’s been giving me a bit of grief. Think I’ll go and put it up for a bit. Anything I can do?’
‘No, no. You go and sit down. I’ll just get the potatoes on and then I’ll be in.’
When she entered the lounge ten minutes later Ed was sprawled in the armchair, sports channel on the TV, foot resting on the coffee table.
She sat down on the arm of his chair and ruffled his blond hair affectionately. It fell over his forehead and the sideburns were grown long in homage to Ed’s music hero Elvis Presley. ‘I saw Gabriel this morning. I was going to drag him out jogging but he was hung way over. In the end I went on my own.’
‘Hmm.’ He didn’t avert his gaze from the TV screen.
‘He’s asked me if I’ll go to a dinner dance thing with him. It’s a work do.’
Ed glanced up at her.
‘Can’t he take one of his women? God knows there’s enough of them.’
She smiled. ‘That’s exactly what I said. Apparently he’s offended one of his ex-girlfriends and she’s going to be there. He needs a neutral date to avoid any grief. It’s the weekend after next—you don’t mind, do you?’
He took a swig from the bottle of beer. ‘No. I’ll go out with the lads probably. You go and enjoy yourself. Keep him in check.’
‘He’s coming round tomorrow night, too. Got a few work issues to discuss, but you’ll be out anyway.’
He simply nodded, clearly more attuned to the television than to her. She watched him. There had been a time, once, when they’d first got together, that they would have had a stand-up row at her suggestion she have a night out with Gabriel. The few boyfriends she’d had before Ed had been the same. She didn’t blame them. It normally took a good few months before they realised her relationship with Gabriel really was totally platonic and then they quit protesting and questioning her about him. Even so, Ed still couldn’t resist the occasional dig, and liked to amuse himself by promoting the view that Gabe took advantage of her friendship when it suited him. But he didn’t try to stop her seeing him, and that was all that really mattered to her. She simply rose above the masculine posturing.
After lunch, she watched Ed as he stacked dishes in the dishwasher. This was exactly what she liked so much about being with him. Domesticity. Her mind wandered before she could stop it towards her own childhood home. She had lived with her parents in the tied cottage on Gabriel’s family estate. The cottage went with her father’s job of groundsman. Anything to do with the upkeep of the manor house and its gardens and outhouses had been his responsibility. And to his credit, she thought, he did a good job for almost the entire time they were there. Until the end when his drinking had more charge of his life than he did himself.
Dragged down with him was her mother, who developed her own drinking problem alongside him, almost in sympathy with him. The rows had become more and more frequent, verbal at first, then at times physical. By the time Lucy was sixteen her mother had left and she was running the house herself as well as managing her own schoolwork. She had kept everything perfectly as if she could somehow bring order to the rest of her life by making the house run smoothly.
Watching Ed now in her tiny kitchen, helping her clear up after eating the meal she had cooked for them both, she felt a warmth deep inside her. She felt totally at ease, relaxed, secure. She wanted that feeling to last and to envelop every aspect of her life. She wanted to start thinking about having children now, a family of her own to look after. It was the logical next step for them, and getting married was the way she wanted to start that journey. She felt excited at the thought of it—a proper family at last.
The following evening, Gabriel was late as usual. Only in his private life, though, Lucy thought fondly as she tidied up. He was always impeccably presented, perfectly prepared and absolutely on time when he was working. In fact he was the most professional person she knew, totally reliable and with absolute integrity when he had his lawyer hat on. A rising star in legal circles, he had attained partnership before the age of thirty and his career was going from strength to strength. Unfortunately it never seemed to wrap over to his personal life. He was always late and his beautiful house was always a pigsty.
She let him in and he kissed her on the cheek. She caught a whiff of his aftershave, something woody that made her want to breathe in deeply. He marched straight through into her neat little kitchen, grabbed a couple of glasses and rummaged in the drawer for a bottle opener. She followed him in and leaned against the doorway, watching him with amused interest.
‘Make yourself at home,’ she said teasingly.
He grinned without looking up. ‘You’re such a creature of habit, Lu. After living with you for six months I could probably find any given kitchen utensil or crockery item in this room without even looking.’
‘Steak knife?’
He opened the drawer below the hob and pulled the knife out with a flourish. She liked all sharp items to be close to hob and chopping board.
‘Luck!’ she protested. ‘Olive oil?’
He pointed at the high cupboard on the left. ‘In the ingredients and condiments cupboard, of course.’
She didn’t have to open the cupboard to know he was right. Everything in her kitchen had order to it. She liked it that way. ‘Salad spinner?’
‘What the hell is one of those?’
She laughed and he grinned back at her as he uncorked the bottle of wine.
‘OK, let’s get started.’ She took one of the glasses and led the way into her little sitting room. It was neat and tidy. The scented candles she’d lit earlier gave off a delicious warm winter scent of orange and cloves. He followed with the bottle and took the armchair. She settled herself close by on the sofa.
‘So, where do you think we should start, then?’ she asked him as soon as she was comfortable.
He glanced up at her as he poured the wine.
‘Should I ask him on his own, or with all our friends and family there?’ She put her head on one side and screwed her nose up, considering. ‘Do you think it would be too weird if I bought myself a ring?’
He held up a hand for her to be quiet and she waited impatiently while he took a slug from his glass. ‘Firstly, for the record, I want you to know I think this is possibly the most crackpot idea you’ve ever had. I’m including in that the time when we were kids and you convinced me my mother would be pleased if we repainted the sitting-room door yellow with my fingerpaints.’
She laughed and he smiled back at her. He had a heart-melting smile that gradually crept up to his eyes, creasing the corners and giving him a look of intensity. She always felt he kept that smile just for her. No doubt many other women felt the same, she thought wryly.
‘But since you’ve agreed to watch my back at this wretched work dinner dance,’ he went on, ‘I will help you.’
She clapped her hands together excitedly.
‘But if we do this, we’re going to take it seriously and we’re going to do it my way. OK?’ He looked at her sternly for agreement.
‘OK.’ She sat on her hands to keep herself from fidgeting, and made herself wait for him to carry on. Once