His gut twisted and he pushed the cake out of sight. He had no one to blame but himself. He was the one falling into the same bad habits. Keeping people at arm’s length. Like Lottie.
There was a tap on his door and he glanced up to find the object of his thoughts standing in the doorway. Cropped jeans and a shirt that tied around her waist, giving him a glimpse of the soft curve of her stomach.
Immediately all his blood rushed south.
‘Amy said to tell you everything is back in place in the café and ready for tomorrow.’
He sighed, failure clawing at him again. ‘Thanks. I hoped I’d already made it clear that I trust her to run the café. That it’s hers.’ He swallowed, shaking his head. ‘Obviously I’ve more work to do.’
‘It’s not just on you.’ Lottie stepped further into the office. ‘Amy’s still finding her feet. Until she’s confident, she’ll keep deferring to you.’ Her eyes met his. ‘You shouldn’t see it as a bad thing. She wants to please you.’
He took a breath, thought through what she’d said. ‘She shouldn’t feel she’s let me down. That stuff about me being cross.’ He exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling. ‘I hate that she thinks that. I’m the one who let her down. I let them both down.’
Lottie shifted so she was perched on the edge of his desk, her eyes so full of sympathy, he couldn’t hold her gaze. ‘Whatever you did, I’m certain you’ve beaten yourself up enough about it.’
He smiled, his mouth tight. ‘Sorry. You shouldn’t be such a good listener. It makes people want to talk to you.’ Even tight-lipped, insular bastards like me.
‘Hey, I do more than enough talking of my own. It’s only fair I listen now and again.’
She got up to go and he realised if he didn’t say something now, it could be another month before he saw her again.
‘Come to dinner with me,’ he blurted.
She froze, grey eyes showing both confusion and surprise. ‘You mean now? Because you’re hungry and don’t want to eat by yourself—’
‘I’m asking you out on a date.’ He slumped back on his chair and rubbed a hand down his face. ‘Though I seem to have lost all my social skills, which doesn’t bode well.’ Amusement flickered on her face and he relaxed enough to try again. ‘Please would you let me take you to dinner tomorrow. Or Saturday. Or any day you’re free. If you’d like that.’
The silence that followed his second, only marginally better, attempt seemed to stretch for hours, though he suspected it was only a few seconds.
‘What happened to you not being good for me?’
His stomach fell, the doubts, the fears, resurfacing. ‘I’m still not.’ He wanted to leave it at that, but he’d blown hot and cold enough with Lottie. It was time to be straight. ‘Honestly, I’m not a good bet. “Emotionally unavailable” is how my ex-wife described me. But I’m trying to be better.’ His gaze locked with hers. ‘Despite appearances to the contrary, this is me making an effort to lighten up. To talk about myself more and let people in.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘I’m still a work in progress but I figure you’re level-headed enough, open enough, to tell me where to go when I cock up.’
A smile tugged at her mouth. ‘You can count on that. Where are you planning on taking me?’
‘Ah. I haven’t thought about it yet.’ It was telling that he’d been here six months and only eaten out at the pub down the road. ‘Is your answer dependent on the venue?’
Her warm, unrestrained laughter filled his office. ‘It might be, but not in the way you think. I’m not a candlelight and get dressed-up kind of girl, so it doesn’t need to be fancy. But if my parents can’t look after Chewie, it will have to be dog-friendly.’
He thought of how he wanted to spend the evening, the ways he wanted to touch her afterwards, God and Lottie willing. None of it included being watched by an over-protective canine. ‘I’m a candlelight and get dressed-up kind of guy.’ He found her eyes. ‘And you deserve fancy, so let me take you out properly. Please.’
She gave him her big, sunny smile. ‘Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?’
‘I’d hoped you wouldn’t. Let me know what day works after you’ve checked with your parents.’
‘Okay.’ She considered him. ‘Is that your roundabout way of saying you plan on kissing me and don’t want Chewie in the way?’
‘No. It’s my way of telling you I’d like to wine and dine you, Lottie Watt.’ His eyes fell on her mouth, on the naked pink lips he couldn’t stop thinking about. The lips he wanted to caress, to savour. To feast on. ‘But I do plan on kissing you again.’
She let out a breathy sound that he hoped meant she was as aroused as he at the idea. ‘Definitely no Chewie then.’ She pretended to fan herself but from where he was sitting the heat felt very real. Then she gave him a sidelong glance, teeth nibbling at her lower lip. ‘Do you think we should have another go now? Get in some practice?’
He recalled his earlier fears about being rusty. Christ, maybe this was her way of saying he was. It was hard to tell, because he wasn’t used to forward women. Then again, he wasn’t used to women, full stop. Patricia. One girlfriend before her when he’d been a student, drowning in hormones. A shameful one-night stand after her, when he’d been at a low ebb, drowning in self-pity.
Heart hammering, he rose to his feet and walked round the desk to stand in front of her. Her eyes were luminous, her breath choppy. ‘I definitely need practice.’ He placed a hand on her face, feeling the connection all the way to his groin. His heart was so loud in his ears, he wondered if she could hear it. Then he bent his head to capture her mouth. And stopped thinking.
Time and again his tongue explored her sweet depths, at times teasing, others devouring. The more he tasted, the more he wanted. Shifting them, he pressed her curvy body against the desk, aligning it to the hard planes of his, heat against heat…
‘Lottie, are you coming?’ Sally’s voice echoed through the shop and they sprang apart, their breath sounding hot and heavy in the small space of the office. ‘Freddie’s started to get fractious – for that, read he’s bawling his eyes out – and Chewie’s pining for you. For that, read he’s straining at the lead, desperate to come and find you.’
‘Shit.’ Lottie gazed up at him, her mouth swollen, her cheeks flushed. ‘I’m a terrible dog mum. I forgot I’d left him with Sally.’
Matt drew in a breath, trying to get his heart to calm, his mind to de-fog. ‘Thank God he’s on a lead or I’d be dead.’
She hiccupped out a laugh. ‘He’s not that bad.’
‘You haven’t seen the death stares he’s been giving me.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘It would be death by slobbering.’
‘Whatever you’re up to,’ Sally continued, ‘I’ll send Chewie in to break it up if you don’t get out here now.’
Lottie started to laugh. ‘Oh God. I’d better go before she sets the hound on us.’ He started to walk out with her but she put a hand on his arm. ‘Sally will embarrass the hell out of us if you come out with me.’
‘I’m not afraid of your friend.’
She arched a brow. ‘Or my big furry dog?’
He paused. ‘Maybe I’ll say goodbye here.’ She started laughing again and that’s when he knew he was in trouble because he got such a kick from seeing her giggle, even though it was at his expense. ‘Let me know when I can pick you up.’
‘I will. Oh, and Matt,’ she added just before she turned the corner. ‘You didn’t actually need the practice.’
From the back of the shop, out of view thanks to the giant bookshelves, he heard Chewie bark and Lottie fuss over him. Heard, too, Sally’s barrage of questions: ‘What were you two doing? Why are your eyes sparkling, your mouth like it’s been stung by a hive of irritated bees? … I know you’ve been snogging my mate!’ she shouted.
He shook his head, smiling to himself as Lottie squealed and tried to shush her friend.
‘You’d better treat her right or you’ll have me to conten
d with,’ he heard Sally yell, just before the door slammed shut.
Slowly the smile left his face. Was he right to be doing this? He’d made Patricia’s life miserable. He couldn’t bear the thought of doing the same to someone as vital, as kind-hearted, as sunny-natured as Lottie.
Her earlier words from when they’d kissed on the beach floated back at him: Stop over-thinking. It’s just a kiss.
This was just a date.
Besides, Lottie, for all her warmth, had a backbone of steel. She was entirely capable of taking care of herself. It was more likely he’d be the one left bruised after she’d had enough of him. In the meantime though, perhaps they could have some fun.
Finally he was going to start this new life he’d promised himself.
Chapter Seventeen
Saturday evening, and Lottie stared again at the clothes she’d laid out on the bed, then down at Chewie. ‘What do you think?’
She picked up the green dress she’d bought for her friend Michele’s wedding. Slim-fitting with three-quarter sleeves and a narrow silver belt, it had looked good for a spring wedding, but for a summer dinner date? ‘Too formal?’
He wagged his tail, which could mean anything. ‘You know you’re not going with me, right?’ She picked up the next option, a flowery summer dress she’d worn to see Henry’s parents for the first time. Bought by him, chosen by him.
‘You’ve got a sleepover with Grandma and Grandad,’ she told Chewie as she held the dress against her in the mirror. ‘No way am I going to let a jealous dog interrupt our next kiss.’ Or whatever would, maybe, hopefully, happen afterwards.
‘Shit, I can’t wear something chosen by my ex to a first date, can I?’ That left the white trousers and slinky, off-the-shoulder yellow top. One of her favourites, but… ‘Is he expecting me to wear a dress?’
With a sigh, she reached for her phone and quickly typed out a message to Matt.
How dressed up do I have to be? L x
She glanced at the time. Half an hour before he picked her up. ‘I’ll give him five minutes, then I need to make a decision.’
Chewie lay back down on the carpet, his doggy eyes looking up at her as if he was listening to every word. Her phone buzzed, then again, and again. And again.
You don’t have to be anything.
* * *
I’ll be wearing a suit.
* * *
But I’m a stuffed shirt.
* * *
I guarantee you’ll look better than me, whatever you choose.
Smiling, she picked up the trousers.
At seven sharp, Matt knocked on the door.
Lottie looked down at the brown paw print she’d been trying to rub off and cursed. Typical of the man that he was fastidiously on time. Abandoning the idea of drying the damp patch with a hair dryer, she went to greet him.
Her heart did a swoop when she took in his light grey suit and white, open-collared shirt. Then somersaulted when she caught sight of the bunch of yellow roses in his hand.
‘Wow. Thank you.’ She reached for them, inhaling their scent. She wasn’t a flowers girl, just as she wasn’t the candlelit restaurant sort, yet she couldn’t explain how giddy she felt right now.
His eyes took in her top. ‘You seem to like yellow.’
‘I do.’ There was an intensity to him, a focus, that made her stomach flutter. ‘Apparently I also like roses, though I didn’t realise until now.’
His dark brows shot up. ‘Henry didn’t buy them for you?’
She laughed. ‘We were both students when we started going out, he was studying journalism at uni and I was doing an electrician course at the local college. Our idea of a date was fish and chips on the beach with a can of lager. To spend money on flowers would have seemed like a waste.’ He blinked and looked away. It was only then she realised how ungrateful she sounded. ‘I didn’t mean… These aren’t a waste. They’re lovely.’
‘As are you.’
She appreciated the sentiment but his words sounded too polite, his manner too stiff. She didn’t want polite words, she wanted heartfelt ones. Was he regretting asking her already? ‘Thank you. Do you want to come in? I’ll just put these in water.’
He exhaled heavily as he stepped into the hallway. ‘That sounded cheesy, didn’t it?’
It was only when she saw his weak smile that she realised what was wrong. He was nervous. ‘Not cheesy, no. Just a bit formal.’
He groaned. ‘Sorry.’ Raking a hand through his hair, he gave her a wry glance. ‘Hard to imagine, but I did have some moves, once upon a time.’
‘Umm.’ She glanced flirtatiously up at him from beneath her lashes. ‘Would you like to show me one?’
His eyes flared and he took a step towards her. ‘First,’ he said, his expression serious as he reached for the roses and put them on the small table in the hall, ‘I’d remove any objects with sharp thorns.’
Laughter bubbled. ‘I’m not sure about smooth, but that’s definitely sensible.’
‘Don’t worry, smooth is coming.’ He swallowed, his Adam’s apple doing a sexy rise and fall above the collar of his shirt. ‘I hope.’
She touched a hand to his freshly shaven cheek. ‘I won’t care if it doesn’t.’ Smiling, she glanced down at her trousers. ‘I’m standing here in my pokey, damp hallway. My trousers have a muddy paw print on them I was trying to wash out before you came. I’m not a girl who needs smooth.’
‘No.’ His fingers touched lightly at her curls, his dark eyes skimming over her face. ‘But I don’t want to fail with you, Lottie. Ditch me because I’m boring, because I have an odd compulsion to straighten pens. Because your dog hates me. But not because I failed to treat you right. Failed to appreciate you.’
The earnestness of his words caused a shift in her chest. They were a reminder that Matt was different to other men she’d known. Deeper, his character shaped by a lonely childhood, his confidence scarred by a painful divorce. This, whatever it was between them, wouldn’t be simple, or easy. ‘We haven’t been on one date yet and already you’re talking about splitting up?’
A slight curve of the lips she wanted to kiss, despite the worries that niggled. ‘I’m making a hash of this, aren’t I?’
‘No, but this is heavy talk and, if I’m honest, I’m after something light.’ She hesitated, searching his eyes, which flickered with an emotion she couldn’t put her finger on. ‘I think that’s what you need, too.’
His smile appeared forced. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, light isn’t my forte.’
‘In case you haven’t noticed, it is mine.’ There was a beat of silence and then he laughed, the tension easing from his face. It relaxed her enough to risk teasing him. ‘So, those moves you bragged about earlier. Still want to show me one?’
This time his smile was wider, his eyes joining in. ‘Okay.’ He straightened his shoulders and turned to look around them. ‘Second, I look for prowling predators. Lions, wolves. Dogs.’
She chewed at her lip, fighting the urge to giggle. ‘Chewie’s at my parents’.’
‘Then we can go straight to move three.’
Her pulse rocketed as his smile turned sensual, his eyes hot, any hint of nerves vanished. The man who pressed his lips to hers, who teased them open with his tongue while his hands slid down her back, bristled with male confidence. The more he took from her, the more he pulled her tight against his rapidly hardening groin, the more his mouth devoured hers, the more her head spun.
She moaned when he drew away, keeping her arms around his neck partly for balance – her knees seemed to have disappeared – and partly because she enjoyed the feel of his body against hers; the power in his chest, the tension in his tight muscles. ‘I’m a fan of move three.’
Laughter rumbled through him and he pressed his forehead to hers, his breath sounding as fast and uneven as hers. ‘Maybe I can show you more moves after dinner?’
The mix of authority with vulnerability; sexy with sweet. He was dangerous, but she was unab
le, and unwilling, to heed the warning. ‘Maybe you can.’
He was a lucky bastard, he decided, as he watched Lottie walk back towards him after her trip to the ladies’. The eyes of every male watching her. She looked stunning, blonde curls bouncing, the yellow of her top lighting up her gorgeous face, the cut of it revealing a sexy tanned shoulder he itched to kiss. To think, he’d almost blown it before he’d even got her to the restaurant.
She wanted light, and he’d shown her the uptight, insecure part of him he was trying to bury.
‘The loos are to die for,’ she said as she slipped back into the seat opposite him. ‘There’s even a plush velvet sofa you can sit on, though why you’d want to sit in the ladies’, I don’t know. Unless you’re hiding from your date.’
He smiled and took a sip of water. ‘I’m grateful to see you back.’
She smirked. ‘On balance I figured I’d have a better time with you.’
He knew she was joking but he couldn’t help but wonder if she was, actually, enjoying herself. She seemed a little … restrained. As if she was holding some of herself back. ‘Have you not been here before?’
‘God, no.’ He winced at the incredulous tone and though he’d had a lifetime of hiding his feelings, clearly Lottie had superpowers because she reached a hand across the table to touch his. ‘That came out wrong. I haven’t been here because Henry and I didn’t do posh restaurants, as you know, and it isn’t the kind of place a bunch of mates hang out in, is it? It’s more the place you come to impress your clients, or your date.’
‘I admit that was my plan.’
‘Then consider me impressed.’ She frowned, twirling the stem of her wine glass with her fingers. ‘But I would have enjoyed anywhere you’d taken me, because I was looking forward to spending time with you.’
He swallowed, his throat tightening. Patricia, Amy, his dad … it had been a while since anyone had wanted his company. ‘Ditto.’ Seriously, Steele? She pays you a compliment like that, and all you can manage is ‘Ditto’? He shifted uncomfortably on his chair. ‘Do you and Henry keep in touch?’ And yep, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
The Beach Reads Book Club: The most heartwarming and feel good summer holiday read of 2021! (The Kathryn Freeman Romcom Collection, Book 5) Page 15