Marry Me. Lynne Marshall
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‘Something a bit more tailored,’ she was saying. ‘You’re so tiny you just look swamped in these floaty designs.’
Lucy disappeared back behind the curtain. Gabriel absently flipped through an email about a case he’d just taken on. It looked as if it might be more complicated than he’d first thought, he’d better request some more information. Then, glancing briefly back up, he froze, the phone held aloft. When had Lucy got legs like that?
Lucy had a fragile silhouette, making a mockery of the fact that her life revolved around the creation of cakes and pastries. But rather than make her look skinny as loose clothes often did, the scarlet shirt she wore now clung in all the right places. The nipped-in cut showed off her tiny waist and with it she was wearing a pair of figure-hugging black cigarette pants. His mouth felt suddenly dry, as if it were full of sawdust, and he automatically took a swig of the very inferior sparkling wine.
‘Those trousers aren’t really Lucy’s style,’ he heard himself say. ‘Tell her, Lu, you run a bakery. That kind of thing isn’t practical.’
Both women totally ignored him. ‘Try them with these, Lucy,’ Amanda said. ‘More definition and height.’
Lucy stepped into the nude platform heels and he inadvertently pressed ‘Send’ on the email he’d only half written. The extra height from the shoes made her legs go on for ever. She was looking at him for approval and he floundered to get the words out.
‘Very nice,’ was the best he could manage.
‘Perhaps some evening wear next…’ Amanda said and held a gold satin dress up against Lucy. Even on its hanger he could see it fell a good three inches above the knee and his heart lurched involuntarily in his chest.
‘That’ll never work,’ he remarked.
Amanda turned to him in exasperation. ‘A bit more positive input wouldn’t go amiss, Gabriel. Know a lot about styling someone, do you?’
‘It’s all because he likes to go out with stereotypes, Amanda,’ Lucy said loudly, making sure Gabriel could hear her. ‘“Arm candy” is the phrase, I think. He likes his women to wear killer heels and fitted tops and skinny jeans, don’t you, Gabe?’ she teased him. ‘I’m the polar opposite of your type, aren’t I? How could I ever look good in something your exes would wear?’
She turned to Amanda. ‘I’m not really a woman in Gabriel’s eyes,’ she said. ‘More of a female-yet-one-of-the-lads hybrid.’
‘A ladette?’ Amanda grinned, glancing smugly at her own very satisfactory feminine reflection in the mirror behind Lucy’s.
‘Yes, a ladette! Exactly!’ Lucy laughed at him from across the room. ‘You’d no sooner put me in that dress than you would one of your rugby mates, eh, Gabe?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I just meant it’s… well… it’s different from the kind of thing you usually wear, that’s all.’ He struggled to justify himself.
‘That’s the whole point of a styling session —to push boundaries and try new things so you can emphasise your good points,’ Amanda pointed out knowledgably. He was beginning to actively dislike the woman. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this uncomfortable in female company.
He was glad when the pair of them disappeared behind the curtain. He hadn’t counted on this. He’d expected Lucy to have a fun hour or so trying things on while he did a bit of work. He hadn’t banked on Amanda pushing clothes on her that his own girlfriends might wear. His Lucy most certainly did not look like girlfriend material in his head and she shouldn’t be looking like it in reality.
The curtain swished back again and she sashayed out towards him, her confidence growing before his eyes. The gold dress flowed against her skin and clung to her every contour. The mirrors made it worse—he could see her from every angle. He tugged at his collar, which suddenly felt unbearably tight, and beads of sweat broke out on his brow. Lucy had curves. She had a tiny waist and long, long legs, and skin that was the colour of double cream. She smiled at him, waiting for an opinion, and all he could feel was shock that she could look so grown-up, so… sexy. He felt a sudden rush of longing deep inside and his face must have given it away because a puzzled expression crossed her face.
‘What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?’
He looked at her face, her eyes wide. His mind whirled. He recognised this feeling of course; he had it all the time. Pretty much whenever an attractive woman came into his field of vision. He just wasn’t used to having it about Lucy. In his mind he had her very comfortably pigeonholed as Best Friend, and he’d known her for so long he realised he never even usually noticed how she looked. It seemed the wake-up call planned for Ed was working on him, too.
You’re jealous! The thought came from nowhere with the force of a sledgehammer, making him feel dizzy. This was just about Lucy getting married ruining their friendship, wasn’t it? Was it really? He mentally shook himself, noticing her crestfallen expression, and forced himself to speak.
‘You look beautiful, Lu. I love it.’
‘You had a weird look on your face.’
‘I guess I’m more used to seeing you in T-shirts and jeans.’
‘I think it would benefit from some good lingerie,’ Amanda interjected, holding up a beautiful black bra and knickers set, adorned with delicate silk and lace. ‘What size are you, Lucy?’
Gabriel almost choked on the foul sparkling wine. He had to get out of here. Now.
‘I have to, er, make a move,’ he blurted out suddenly, holding up his phone like an idiot. ‘Urgent. Work thing. Can’t be helped. Sorry.’ Aware he was now gabbling, he snatched up his jacket to create a diversion.
Lucy looked momentarily surprised, but, delighted as she was with her transformation, her attention was quickly diverted by the clothes Amanda was holding. She walked briefly over to him, the heels emphasising her legs even more. He fought to keep his eyes off them. ‘No problem, Gabe, I’ll call you later,’ she said. She flashed him an excited smile. ‘Thanks for organising this—you’re such a good mate!’ She looked up into his face for a moment and her smile faltered. ‘You know, you work too hard. You have dark shadows under your eyes.’ She ran a fingertip across his left cheekbone and he felt his skin prickle deliciously as if it might burst into flames at her touch. Her scent, something light and floral, enveloped him. He felt as if his senses were sharpened to a needle point, as if every nerve in his body were standing on end.
Amanda saw him to the lift, leaning in close enough to whisper in his ear. ‘Call me,’ she said, giving him an inviting smile. He was glad when the metal doors slid shut between them.
He left the store as fast as he could, relishing the fresh air on his burning face as he walked to the car. As he drove home he barely saw the road, barely noticed the other cars or people. One person filled his head. This was a whole different ball game. And he had no idea how he was supposed to play it.
‘SO YOU went clothes shopping with a woman, what, have you lost your mind?’
Gabriel slung a towel round his neck and took a swig from his water bottle. Playing a couple of games of squash with Joe, a work colleague, he intended to beat the tension out of himself with physical exertion. So far it wasn’t working.
He hadn’t been able to focus now for two days. Whenever he tried, his mind was invaded by Lucy: how she’d looked, how she smelled, how her skin felt when she held his arm. He couldn’t remember a woman making him feel like this since Alison, and even she was now beginning to become a blur. To his dismay it was beginning to dawn on him that the reason he didn’t want Lucy to get married had less to do with the impact on their friendship and more to do with the fact she was marrying someone else.
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