The Bad Boyfriends Bootcamp
Page 35
Patrick strode to the stage, rolling up his rugby shirt sleeves. ‘I know you only want me for my body.’ He rolled his eyes in mock-outrage. ‘So, what didn’t you know? I find that premise completely unbelievable.’
‘Rach and Martin – he broke out the big L,’ Molly grinned.
‘Wow, the L bomb. Brave man. So that’s been five months or something?’ Patrick raised his eyebrows.
Molly laughed. ‘Not everyone does it after two months on a Magners high.’
Holding up his hand in defeat, Patrick replied, ‘I only bought half of those ciders for you, if you remember. Though, after the third one, I didn’t expect you to remember much.’
‘I remember it all.’ Molly rose up on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. ‘Ready to rock? I think I might need a snack stop to get my energy up before we get to Sam’s.’
Patrick hefted up the box and carried it under one arm with apparent ease. ‘I got you a Choc Dip and an apple; they’re in the car.’
‘Ahhh, my little chicken!’ Leaning up to kiss his cheek, Molly finished her display of affection with a firm bottom squeeze.
Patrick made a grumbling noise in the back of his throat.
Anticipating the source of his annoyance, Molly asked, ‘I can’t use chicken, either? So that’s a no to bunny, squidgy, beanpole, hunk of love and stud muffin. I know you don’t like nicknames but it’s practically the law that I’m allowed to call you something.’
Leading the way out of the hall, Patrick called over his shoulder. ‘I’ll think about it. If you do the skirting boards.’
‘Argh.’ Molly followed after him. ‘How did my brother get us to agree to a “painting party” on a Wednesday night? It’s madness. Just because he got a good deal on a crumby flat that was floor-to-ceiling in brown gloss emulsion, now we all have to suffer.’
‘Some of us more than others,’ Patrick said with a fond sigh as he listened to Molly prattle on chirpily. ‘But it’ll be all right. I’ll barter with Spam for Heart on the radio – just the way you like it – for doing the ceilings with my natural talents.’ Patrick demonstrated how his great tallness paid off in decorating terms; he touched the ceiling of the reception room with his free hand.
Molly waved at the security guard who came to lock up behind them, and they crossed the car park together, Patrick’s free hand now round Molly’s waist. ‘I was thinking maybe we could do a bit of painting. In the bedroom…’ his voice trailed off as he held his top lip between his teeth.
Taking a moderately deep breath, Molly resisted the urge to immediately turn him down, just because she happened to like her violet and mint green colour scheme. Perhaps it was a touch too girly now, even for her.
‘Why not?’ she said breezily. ‘It’s our bedroom now, after all. A fresh lick of paint will do it good.’ And she meant it.
Just as Patrick opened the boot to load in Molly’s things, he leant down to put his lips at the top of her head. Following on from what she’d just said, he whispered a very naughty double entendre hoarsely straight into her ear, which certainly had nothing to do with emulsion paint.
A blush rose to Molly’s cheeks and lots of bad thoughts rose to her head. This co-habitation thing definitely had its benefits.
Acknowledgements
I don’t think I can ever thank my awe-inspiring friends Emma and Vanessa enough, for all the help they gave me as I wrote, edited, gave up on and then edited this novel all over again. That was some super-human patience and kindness. Thank you.
Thanks to Kirsty – a top top book expert in more ways than one, and the loveliest friend to boot. I’m spoilt just to know you.
Thanks to J and A, former bosses and still wonderfully supportive people. Thanks for the straight talking and always encouraging my ideas, however bizarre. Big thanks to my brilliant ladies at work for giving me that final bit of confidence to put my book out into the world.
Perfectly punctuated thank yous to Hatice, proofreader extraordinaire.
And finally, thanks to Mike for selflessly going out to play rugby, get drunk with friends, snowboard and do all those other boring kind of things so that I would have time to write. You are truly a prince among men, and pretty hot.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2011 by Poppy Dolan
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © Poppy Dolan, 2011
The moral right of Poppy Dolan to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781911591238
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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