“Okay,” she says, noticing the temporary stop as I prepare my words.
“I went to your family’s going away party. My reason for going of course was to show support for my best friend and his family. I was angry that you all were leaving, very upset. And then something happened.”
I pause and she says nothing. I watch as her eyes seem to narrow and then open slightly as if she correctly anticipates exactly what I’m going to say next.
“In the course of going about my day, and readying myself for the darkness or the yin that I was expecting from that moment, I was slapped in the face with the yang, a light so bright that it changed me forever.”
She nods. “Are you a big believer in spirituality?”
“I wasn’t and I wouldn’t say that I am now, but as a fighter there is a lot of Eastern philosophy that comes into play, more than some might expect.”
“And you believe in it?”
“I believe in what I see and what I feel, and that day I saw something more beautiful than anything I’d ever laid eyes on…something that has remained the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…something that makes me feel like nothing else on earth. Something that gives me a high bigger than winning a boxing match like last night. Something more pure than running through the forest in the morning and witnessing the birth of a fawn right before my very eyes. Something so perfect, so meant for me, that there’s no choice but to believe…and I do. I do believe.”
I feel my hands tighten around her even more intensely as my need reaches a level that cannot be stopped this time no matter who tries to come between us.
“What is that something?” she says, her face moving closer.
“It’s not a something, it’s a someone. And I believe in her…I believe in us,” I say as I lean forward, pulling her body into mine at the same time and my lips come crashing down on hers for the first time.
CHAPTER 8
Ella
My head is still spinning an hour later from the way he kissed me as we sat all by ourselves up on Primrose Hill.
The idea of getting up so early didn’t appeal to me at first, but taking in the pinks, purples, blues, and oranges of the sunrise over the frosted grass and the light fog was absolutely amazing.
Just a short drive later he’s holding open the door for me to the The Black Penny, one of London’s most well known breakfast establishments.
It’s as if tasting him only made me hungrier for more, more of him and more for actual food. I know I’m going to need to fill my belly if he has me burning calories all day as we explore the city…and hopefully more of each other.
“You gonna get ya’ some bacon and eggs and hash browns?” he says in a drawled out Southern U.S. Accent.
“Hey!” I say slapping him on the arm as we take a look at the menu. “Don’t make fun of me just because I went back to the States. People from the South and the Midwest are some of the nicest and most genuine and down to earth people in the world.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” he says.
We go back to studying our menus and I feel the anticipation knowing this day is going to be the best in my life, no matter what the end result is. I know he’s going to make the entire journey fun, and I need to start thinking of ways to tease him too or else the score will be very lopsided in his favor by day’s end.
Score…the word sticks in my brain and even though it’s a bit vulgar and slang, I wonder if that’s what’s going to happen for me for the first time before the clock strikes midnight.
“Decide what you’d like?” the waitress asks.
As a foodie, my mouth is literally watering. “I’ll go with the brioche French toast,” I say. They had me at whipped lemon ricotta and absolutely sealed the deal somewhere in-between the black cardamom sugar and blueberry compote. The toasted almonds just make it sound that much more spectacular.
“And you, sir. Oh!” she says, taking in the sight of Oliver. “Congratulations. Incredible performance last night…I mean this morning.”
I feel jealousy shoot through me wanting to tell her to back off, but I take a deep breath instead. Her words are lacerating, but it’s just by coincidence that they could seem sexual to prying ears. I know they’re anything but.
And I know Oliver must be used to this and that he’s not interested as he keeps his eyes on his menu and her comment slides off him like water off a duck’s back.
“I’ll go with the bubble and…”
“Bubble n’ squeak, got it.” She says. She gives me a friendly look and says, “Men never like saying that when they’re in the presence of a date or their wife,” she says and extends a closed fist.
“And can I get two of them?” Oliver asks.
“Double bubble n’ squeak,” she says. “Got ya covered.”
I’m completely shocked at how friendly she is, wondering when the customer service took such a drastic step up in the city…or maybe this is Oliver’s everyday life. As a celebrity I guess he probably gets treated a lot differently than the Average Joe, so to speak.
I make a fist and give her a bump and she smiles.
I feel a lot better that her comments didn’t have a hidden undertone and I catch myself realizing how truly jealous she made me, and how little effort it took. Spending the day with Oliver is going to present a personal challenge for me I’d somehow completely overlooked.
I need to stay cool when fans and women “want a piece of him,” even if it’s just a congratulatory word or a photograph.
“Two?”
“I worked up an appetite this morning already,” he says with a smirk.
“You did seem a bit…hungry,” I tease. My eyes go back to the menu. “So, grilled pork plus sage sausages, barbecue sauce, rocket and a fried egg. All of that times two.”
“I was thinking of getting three, but I didn’t want to completely scare you, and the staff. That’s the kind of clickbait headline that easily winds up on the Internet before we’ve even stepped out the front door.”
“Really? That fast?”
He motions with his head to the side and my eyes scan the room. Everyone looks nice and polite, but I do see literally everyone with their head down, but their eyes up. Some are hiding behind coffee cups and others forks or even fists resting on chins, but literally everyone is watching us.
I lower myself down into my seat. “This is what it’s like?” I say in a hushed tone.
“Yeah, but it’s fine. The key is to just do exactly what you want to do and just go about your day as normal. Eventually you won’t even notice.”
I latch onto his words. Eventually you won’t even notice, not eventually I stopped noticing or something along those lines.
Maybe I’m thinking over this too hard, but he’s saying it like the two of us being together is a done deal.
Over the course of the next hour or so we take our time, eating, enjoying, and just having a really nice time. Who knew getting up this early could be so fun?
After our plates are cleared I get my hand ready for the money I have in my pocket. It’s not much, but I feel like we should split the check, or maybe just pay for what we each ate since the man eats enough to feed a small village.
A few moments later our server, and a man out of the backroom, come to greet us.
“You’re all set,” the man says. “On the house.”
Oliver insists on paying, which I admire, but the man won’t let him. Eventually Oliver relents and the man asks for a picture.
One of the staff members comes forward with a proper camera and Oliver motions for me to get in the picture.
As much as I want to I’m not sure. I don’t think that having me in this photo is what this man had in mind.
But Oliver puts his hand up, covering his face until this time I’m the one who relents, joining him by his side and seconds later the flash fires and we shake hands with what turns out to be the owner and are on our way.
“That was pretty cool,” I say as Oliver holds
the door for me as we leave.
“Yeah. Good food and great company,” he says giving me a wink as he helps me in our car which is still waiting right out front.
We sit in the back cuddling and teasing each other and not twenty minutes later the car stops and Oliver is helping me out again.
“I’ve always wanted to come here, but never did!”
We step into Madame Tussauds and take in all the wax sculptures.
There’s one of my favorite actors, Benedict Cumberbatch from Sherlock, Audrey Hepburn, Beyonce, and even Prince William and Kate Middleton.
We stumble upon the sculpture of David and Victoria Beckham and we have to get a picture.
I hand my phone to one of the staff members and she snaps a funny pic.
“David’s gonna love this,” Oliver says as casually as if he’s having afternoon tea with one of the most famous Britons of all time.
Out of nowhere I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see a small older woman.
“You know, those celebrities don’t have anything on you two kids. I’m ninety-three years old and I’ve never seen a better looking couple.”
“Thank you,” I say, putting my hand on her shoulder.
“I bet your children are the most precious things,” she says.
I don’t say anything, turning to Oliver who just playfully raises his palms.
“Please tell me you do have children,” the lady says.
“Well…um…”
“Well what are you waiting for? How long have you two been married already?”
“Actually…we’re not.”
The woman turns to Oliver gripping my arm tighter for balance as she raises her other arm, pointing her finger right at him, which I don’t ever remember seeing someone do in manners conscious England.
“Young man, quit fooling around wasting this pretty lady’s time and put a ring on it. Listen to Beyonce like you should before this treasure is lost forever.”
Oliver smiles and leans in close to the woman, whispering something in her ear as he looks at me with a big smile.
I’m absolutely loving this moment.
“I think I heard some of what you said, and what I heard was enough,” she says, slapping him on the arm.
I laugh so hard I snort and the little old lady shuffles off, disappearing just as quickly as she appeared.
“Did you set that up?” Oliver asks.
“No! I swear,” I say.
“Mr. Paine, they’re ready for you,” a staff member says.
“Thanks,” he says, and holds out his hand for me.
“You want me to?”
He doesn’t wait for a reply, simply taking my hand in his and following the lady that works here out the front door where there is a swarm of people and reporters.
“What in the…”
A few words are spoken as camera flashes fire and minutes later a tarp is pulled off a brand new wax sculpture of…Oliver.
“Whoa,” is all I can say.
He steps forward, making sure our handhold is not broken and says a few words as fans cheer and people stop to see what all the fuss is about.
“It’s the champ!” someone yells.
“And the girl from the front row!” someone else adds.
My skin is instantly covered in goosebumps from head to toe as I feel a chill shoot through me. Do people know about me?
A few seconds later and security comes out to help us get back in our car. Even with security, Oliver wraps his arms behind my back, engulfing me as he blazes a trail through the fans, opening it so I can pass smoothly.
We’re whisked away and I feel my heart pumping like crazy.
“You got your own statue.”
“Not bad. What did you think?”
“I think it was surreal. It was like there were two of you there.”
“Which one do you prefer? The one who can’t talk or the one who doesn’t want to shut up, who can’t quit showing you off to the world?”
“That one…always,” I say, as he leans in and kisses me. “They already had your measurements and everything?”
“Yeah, right after the fight was announced. I had to sign consent forms, licensing agreements, and things like that.”
“But what if—” I catch myself mid-sentence, but it’s too late. It doesn’t take a real life Sherlock Holmes to figure out what I was about to say.
“If I lost?”
“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
“Not a problem, really. You know why?”
I shake my head.
“Because when I see something I want I don’t let anything get in my way. Last night it was the heavyweight championship and now that’s all changed, because now and into the future I only have one thing I need more than anything else in this world and I’ll spend everyday proving exactly that…to you,” he says and his lips come crashing down on mine.
CHAPTER 9
Oliver
There’s no need to check the Internet, I know the papers will already be having a field day after what happened at Madame Tussauds.
Good.
Now the whole world will know she’s mine…know not to try anything with her, knowing she’s already been claimed by the same man who knocked another man out cold earlier this morning with one punch.
It’s almost unfathomable to think this is still our first day together in four years, and it’s barely half over.
That’s what happens when you start at the stroke of midnight and you’ve been thinking about her for four long, torturous years.
You know exactly what you want and you move towards making that happen as quickly as possible.
The car rolls to a stop and I help her out while I excuse myself, ducking back inside to change my pants and underwear. Thankfully I brought an extra pair, but my reasoning for needing them was wrong.
I thought there was a real chance I wouldn’t be able to contain myself…figured I might make a fool out of myself and literally come just from her touch, from her kiss.
If I wasn’t so focused on keeping myself calm there’s a good chance that that’s exactly what might have happened, but I’ve managed to avoid it so far.
The culprit was the wet grass, and damn do I ever want to get her back to my place to see if her underwear is just as wet as mine, but for a very different reason.
I try and get my pants back on, but my cock is so hard I can’t get them sorted out.
“Everything okay,” her muffled voice says through the thick, tinted glass.
“Yeah, just a little stuck. Be right there.” But what I really want to do is kick this chauffeur out and stick my cock in her right here and right now, claim her immediately and start making babies with her. I want to come in her so deep and so hard that my seed fills her so deep we trace the night of conception back to today, the day I truly became champion…champion of the world because I won her as mine.
I finally manage to get my pants on and make a quick call to my French-born friend Lucie. We’ve never met before, but she’s definitely a friend now after I provide her with a few details and she tells me, “Don’t you worry. You’re in good hands and I know…hands are my business,” before I thank her and quickly end the call.
“Everything okay?” Ella asks as I step out of the car into the warming afternoon temperatures.
“Never been better,” I say, looking down to see she’s unzipped her coat a bit and I can see down her top.
A shot of jealousy rushes through me. “It might be getting cold again real soon. Probably best to zip all the way back up.”
She looks down and realizes the true meaning behind my words. “Uh huh,” she says looking straight down her top realizing just how incredible her cleavage looks right now, or at least she should. She’s the most beautiful woman ever to set foot on this earth and I don’t want any other man seeing what’s mine.
She zips up her jacket and I take her hand, leading her right up to Buckingham Pal
ace.
We stand, side by side, taking in the majestic view of it all.
I feel a slight tug on my hand and look down at her. “You know you’re making me feel like a princess today,” she says.
My chest swells with pride. “Today will be the last day of that.”
U.K. Boxing Day: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 91) Page 5