Marry Me. Lynne Marshall

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Marry Me - Lynne Marshall


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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…

      ‘No. Absolutely no way.’

      ‘Why not?’ She looked up from scrabbling about in the cutlery drawer to give him a petulant frown.

      ‘Because I don’t have time to provide you with an insight into the male mind, and, even if I did, it’s not right, Lucy. You have to go home, tell Ed how unhappy you are and force the issue.’

      ‘Do you think I haven’t tried that?’ Her voice began to take on an angry pitch. ‘I did all of that at Christmas, he was totally clear on my feelings and gave me the same old rubbish about it “happening one day soon”. It’s made absolutely zero difference.’ She slammed two cups down on the counter so hard he was amazed they didn’t break. ‘He bought me perfume for my birthday—another missed opportunity right there—and now Valentine’s Day. The most romantic day of the year and we spent the evening discussing cash flow for his property development business.’

      Gabriel shook a generous mound of instant coffee directly from the jar into his cup. If he was going to survive this conversation he needed all the caffeine he could get. ‘Have you considered that maybe he just isn’t the right guy?’

      Her face twisted and the anger gave way to frustration. ‘He is the right guy, Gabe. We get on great. He’s supportive, he makes me laugh and I love him. He’s got his own business like me, so he understands when I disappear on evenings and weekends to finish off wedding cakes…’

      None of these things particularly struck Gabriel as evidence of true love—more like plenty of free time to watch football on the weekend and free evenings to go out with his mates.

      ‘Please, Gabe. I’ll do the same for you one day.’

      ‘I have absolutely no need of help on how to propose to women, thanks very much.’

      ‘I wasn’t suggesting that. I just meant I’d owe you a favour. I know you’ve denounced commitment since Alison died.’ She looked at him uncertainly, and well she might. She knew perfectly well this would touch a nerve.

      He felt the usual stab in his chest, where his heart was, he supposed. It was a low blow mentioning Alison. He devoted most of his waking hours to keeping all memory of her locked in a corner of his mind that he never visited. He certainly had no intention of talking about her now. He fixed a neutral expression on his face and grappled for a subject change. Thinking on his feet being one of his strengths, he very quickly found one.

      ‘Now that you mention owing me a favour…’ He spun away from her suddenly and grabbed a gilt-edged piece of stiff cream card from beneath a magnet on the fridge. ‘Will you come to my law firm dinner with me?’ He passed her the card and she scrutinised it.

      ‘You want me to be your date for some work do?’ she asked. ‘I thought you had them queuing up? Can’t that Tabitha go with you? Or is it Agatha? God, I lose track.’

      ‘Tabitha was months ago, keep up. I think you must mean Susan.’

      ‘Who the hell is Susan?’

      ‘It doesn’t matter, to be honest. We broke up last week. She was getting a bit full-on.’ Unable to find a clean teaspoon in his bombsite of a kitchen, he began to stir his coffee with a fork handle.

      ‘Well, in that case, you should be due to meet someone new…’ she consulted her watch with a flourish ‘… any time right about now. The dinner’s in a couple of weeks, so she should be at the perfect point in your relationship. Falling for you, but not yet far enough to scare you into dropping her like a hot potato. Problem solved—you really don’t need me. And anyway…’ she passed the invitation back to him and picked up her cup ‘… we’re talking about my problem, not your logistical dating rubbish.’

      He shook his head. ‘You don’t understand. This is serious. I can’t be taking just anyone. It’s a big deal, this dinner, all our major clients will be there, and all the partners in the firm. I need a date who isn’t too showy and who won’t be draped all over me or hanging on my every word. In short, someone who will act the way I ask them to. That’s where you come in. Tabitha will be there, too, since she works for us, and things didn’t really end well with her.’

      She raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you for real? You’re so arrogant. Have you ever thought it might be the type of woman you go for that causes the problem? Or maybe, shock-horror, the way you treat them? You never show any interest beyond a couple of dates.’

      He shrugged. ‘I’m always honest with them. I never give the impression that I want anything serious. It’s not normally an issue, but the thing is I’ve dated a couple of the women at work, women who’ll be at the dance. You’re well known as just a friend of mine. So no chance of any jealous scenes. No one will feel remotely threatened by you. Problem solved.’

      Lucy gave a cynical laugh. ‘I wouldn’t be convinced of that. Your girlfriends are never my biggest fans. Women are eternally suspicious of the female best friend. You automatically wonder what he’s getting from her that he can’t get from you.’

      Gabriel was mystified. ‘No, no. They always say they like you. And they know you’re with Ed.’

      ‘They would say that. They’re trying to please you. You really could do with my insight, you know.’ She sighed. ‘But look, I’ll make a bargain with you. I will go to the dinner with you and solve your dating problems.’

      He grinned triumphantly, but she held up a hand. ‘Please, let me finish. On condition that you help me with my proposal plan. I need the male point of view.’ She looked at him expectantly. ‘Do we have a deal? I thought we could start right away. We could go for a run by the river and discuss some details.’ She stood up and did a couple of sample stretches, lunging forward on her slightly built legs.

      He watched her in horrified amazement. ‘You’re insane if you think I’m up to running anywhere. I only got to bed at three.’

      Was it just that? He felt an irrational negativity towards the idea of helping her propose to Ed, and crushed it. It must be the hangover. Why should he care if she got married, as long as she was happy? That was all he ever wanted for her, after all. Based on past experience she would be bored with the idea in a couple of weeks, and if he got her to look closely enough at Ed’s faults he might even be able to speed it up and everything would get back to normal. Best to just go with the flow for now.

      ‘Let me go back to bed and I’ll come round to your place tomorrow night,’ he said. ‘I’ll even bring a bottle of wine. And, though I say it with a measure of dread, then you’ve got a deal.’

       CHAPTER TWO

      DESPITE Gabriel’s protestations that he needed sleep, after


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