It was the first time he’d heard his father speak like this.
‘I know you felt a great sense of pressure about coming into the practice. Because of me and your grandad before you. If you wanted to do that, that’s fine. But I’d really like to think there’s more out there for you.’
‘Dad, I—’
‘It’s okay, son. You’ll never disappoint me.’
Olly looked stuck for something to say. His father’s comments had come out of the blue.
Patrick smiled, a twinkle in his eyes. ‘Can’t a father look out for his son? Well, I can. Especially when I can see what’s good for you.’ He turned to Lula. ‘Although I, for one, hope that you consider staying on in Atlee Wold, Lula.’
Lula didn’t appear to be blushing, but she did seem pleased at his father’s words.
‘I haven’t made any definite plans yet, Patrick.’
Olly pulled the casserole pot from the oven and set it in the centre of the table, removing the lid, allowing a plume of steam to swirl up to the ceiling and mouth-watering aromas to set them all salivating.
They set to the meal readily, all of them hungry, and pretty soon there were three empty plates and three full bellies. Patrick went into the living room whilst Olly and Lula cleared away the dishes. She scraped and rinsed the plates, and he set them in the dishwasher.
‘Thanks, but you’re meant to be my guest—not helping me do domestic duties.’
‘Oh, I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.’
He agreed. She’d certainly not shirked any work since she’d been here. ‘How are you feeling about tomorrow? Nervous?’
Lula nodded. ‘A bit. Everything could change, couldn’t it?’
‘And if she is your mother? What then?’
Lula stood still, her hands dripping water, before drying them on a towel. ‘I don’t allow myself to think that far ahead.’
‘But you must have imagined it? Finding her?’
‘Yes, but I find if I try and imagine a conversation it never goes the way I heard it in my mind and I don’t want to be disappointed.’
No. He hated to think of her being upset. Devastated and crying. Just the idea of it set his stomach churning and had him fighting the urge to hold her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. Protect her from anything that could do her harm—emotionally or physically.
‘What time shall we go over there?’
‘Well, your dad has the morning surgery, so I thought about ten? We should be back for the afternoon surgery, then, with plenty of time.’
‘I hope you get what you want, Lula. I hope you find her.’
Lula looked at him steadily. He could see that her eyes were glazed, almost as if she might be about to cry. How easy it would be to take a step past the open dishwasher and hold her!
‘Thank you, Olly.’
They finished off in the kitchen and went into the living room to have coffee with Patrick. Then Patrick said goodnight to them both and went off to meet up with his friends down at the local pub.
When he was gone Lula sat next to Olly on the couch, staring into the open fire. There was something hypnotic about the flames. Something soothing. And somehow, without realising how it came to happen, he realised that he had his arm about her shoulders and she was leaning into his chest.
She was a comforting weight against him and he looked down at her, staring at her amazing hair and at how all the colours blended so beautifully into one another, and how the firelight flickered and played off them. He could inhale the scent of her shampoo…
I could take her face in my hand and turn her to kiss me…
She turned and looked at him, startling him with the intensity in her eyes. It was almost magical, as if she’d heard his thoughts and granted his wishes. They said no words. They didn’t have to. He could read everything he needed to in her beautiful large brown eyes. Pools of molten chocolate he would happily swim in…
He couldn’t help himself… His gaze dropped to her lips. Her beautiful lips. Full and sensuously curved. Bubblegum pink and innately kissable…
He lowered his face to hers and saw her eyes close as she welcomed his mouth on hers. Their kiss was of exquisite beauty. Her lips melted against his and he felt her fingers in his hair. He heard her soft sigh as she turned to press herself against him.
Heat fired instantly in his groin and he fought its desire for instant gratification. He told himself that this time he would take it slowly and enjoy each delicious moment they were together. He’d sensed her trying to put distance between them. Sensed her stepping away. Well, if this was the last time he’d get to be with her then he was going to treasure every moment…
His arms held her tightly against him and her breathing became heavy. Their kisses deepened and he found himself stroking her skin, allowing his hands to roam her body. Their clothes were in the way. He wanted to touch her skin.
He wanted her. Not just in a physical sense. It was more than just sex. It was almost about consuming her. Touching, tasting, feeling everything that she was. Absorbing her into his very being.
Lula leaned back and pulled off her top, then began to tackle his shirt buttons. His mouth dropped to the gentle swell of her breasts, to the pert, taut nipples peaking beneath the lace of her bra.
How easy it would be just to rip it away…
Olly restrained himself, however. His fingers found the clip at the back and released it. The bra hit the floor and his hands cupped her, brought her to his mouth. His tongue teased and licked and his teeth nibbled gently, causing pain and pleasure at the same time, and her groans were like music to his ears. He filled his mouth with her.
She pulled off his shirt and began tackling his trousers. He tried to undo her jeans, but they were so tight they both stopped to laugh as she helped him undo them, and then they, too, were off and discarded upon the floor.
Olly gazed at the beautiful length of her. At her sex obscured by a small piece of flimsy red lace. She was amazing. Gorgeous. If he had an artistic bone in his body he would want to draw her, paint her as she lay in repose. Each brushstroke an imagined caress. That way he could look at her like that for as long as he wanted.
But she held out her arms, drawing him to her, and he fell upon her like a rabid wolf, his mouth consuming her, ravishing her, tasting her flesh and her scent as he peeled away the wisp of lacy underwear.
And there she lay. His beautiful Lula. Naked in his living room before the open fire. His mouth met hers once again. Her groaning almost sent him over the edge. He wanted her so badly.
He felt her flesh slip and slide beneath his touch, her nipples hardening as she ground herself against him, and then she gasped, arching her back, clutching herself against him, and he just knew in his heart that he wanted to experience that with her again and again and again.
She’d got beneath his skin…there was no denying it.
She was his beautiful, amazing Lula Chance, and if he got to be with her every day and know that she was his every night then he would be a very happy man.
Was it love? He didn’t know. Maybe. It had happened quickly, if it was. He’d only ever committed himself like that to someone once before, and that had been a long time ago. So he wasn’t sure, but he thought that maybe it did feel that way.
The last time he’d fallen in love it had been a disaster. He’d convinced himself that Rachel was the woman for him—perfect in every way, the perfect partner for a country village GP—but she hadn’t been. He’d imposed his own expectations on to her and thought she would be what he wanted her to be. But she’d had other ideas. She’d been a free spirit, very much a city girl who didn’t want to be tied down, the way he’d expected.
And wasn’t Lula the same? A free spirit who might leave him?
Dismissing the doubt, he slid into her all the way, feeling her heat along the length of him, the taste of her still on his tongue, her soft skin beneath his fingers. He moved gently. Slowly at first, then quicker and harder
, until the breath was escaping from him in bursts. He came in a shattering gasp, collapsing on top of her, his breath at her neck—her delicious neck, with that gentle dip and the collarbone that had intrigued him so much earlier.
It had been every bit as amazing as before. If not better.
I can’t let her go.
But he still wasn’t sure if she was his to keep.
They lay in each other’s arms, content. Neither saying what they truly needed to say. Both knowing that this might be the last time they were together.
*
Elizabeth Love’s house sat centrally in a square plot, surrounded by sheds and aviaries and outdoor hutches, all filled with animals of various kinds. Loose chickens and ducks roamed the gardens.
The gate to the garden path hung limply and rusting, off to one side. As the snow had now melted somewhat the ground beneath was starting to be seen—thick mud, almost black, but by the front door a cornucopia of clay pots held flowering snowdrops and crocus.
Lula smiled at Olly nervously and then took a step forward and rapped on the door. Some old flaking paint fell off at her touch, revealing the ancient, grey wood beneath, whilst the free-ranging chickens scratched at her feet.
The sun was shining and there was warmth in its gaze. Finally, it seemed, the snow would soon be gone.
Lula waited, Olly standing a little behind her. There’d been no awkwardness since last night. After she and Olly had made love they’d cuddled before the fire for a while, until she’d realised she needed to go home before Patrick came back and found them naked in his lounge! She’d dressed quickly and kissed him goodbye.
It had been fun to share that time with him, but that was all it could be. At least that was what she kept telling herself. It had been hard to leave his warm, strong arms. Difficult to walk away from him. They’d grown so close over the last few days together.
But that was all it was. Two adults who were good friends and occasionally had sex. That was all. No strings, no demands from either side. Friends with benefits. If it ended tomorrow and they just stayed as friends after that there’d be no recriminations from either side. She hoped he felt the same way. She’d indicated nothing else, even if she hadn’t said it out loud. And he knew she never stayed anywhere for longer than a few months. That she always moved on. That she always sought something new. He had to know that was how it was going to end.
She was pulled from her thoughts when the door was opened by a small woman. She had dark hair, slightly tinted with grey at the front, and large brown eyes. She wore a comfortable, hard-wearing flannel shirt with jeans, boots and no make-up.
Lula smiled a greeting, then faltered as the sunlight caught on the silver necklace that hung at the woman’s throat. It was the same as the necklace that Lula wore. The one she’d been left with by her mother.
The woman blinked at the bright sun, looking at them both enquiringly. ‘Yes?’
Lula’s voice caught in her throat. ‘Miss Love?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m Dr Chance, and this is Dr James from the local surgery. May we come in for a moment and talk to you?’
‘What about? I’m busy.’ Elizabeth’s harsh response was clipped and fast.
Lula looked at the hard lines on this woman’s face and saw a lifetime of heartache. ‘It’s a private matter.’
‘I’m sure I have nothing worth discussing…’
The woman went to shut the door and Lula just stood there, but Olly stepped forward, jutting his boot into the doorway, his broad, square hand pressed against the door.
‘It’s about your daughter, Miss Love.’
The woman flinched visibly, staring at them both, then her eyes flicked to Lula, assessing her. Her gaze softened.
Lula stood there, letting her look, wondering what she was thinking. Wondering whether she’d guessed yet who she was. Whether she saw the similarities. Elizabeth Love had the same eyes as her.
‘You’d better come in.’ She stepped away and disappeared down a dark hall that was overflowing with piles of stuff.
Lula had seen television programmes about hoarders before, and though this house wasn’t as bad as some of them she could tell that this woman didn’t like to let things go. It was cluttered, and it wasn’t very clean, but there was organisation here—and a love for animals that was clear for anyone to see.
Elizabeth indicated for them to sit down on the cat-covered sofa opposite, then sat herself, fidgeting and twisting the tails of her shirt in her fingertips. ‘Well?’
Lula swallowed hard. She’d found her. This had to be her mother! ‘We’re here to talk about a baby girl who was left abandoned on a beach many years ago.’
‘I see.’ She didn’t meet their eyes, but kept her gaze cast down upon the floor.
‘I was that baby, and I’ve been looking for my mother. I have reason to believe that…that you are her.’
Elizabeth glanced at her then, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed with tears. ‘You’re Louise?’
Lula nodded, a lump in her own throat.
‘My baby?’
She couldn’t help it. Tears began. ‘I am.’
‘Oh…!’
Elizabeth stood up and pulled Lula into her arms, squeezing her tight against her, but then, sensing that Lula felt uncomfortable, she let her go. She stared at her instead, taking her in. Every tiny inch. Then she turned and began to pace the room, sniffing and clearing her throat, then stopping to look at her and pace some more, before she sat down again, suddenly stilled.
‘I’ve thought of you every day.’
‘What happened?’ Lula looked at her through tear-glazed eyes. ‘What made you leave me on the beach?’
Elizabeth got up once again, but this time settled down on the couch next to Lula. Tentatively she reached out and took Lula’s hand in her own, gulping as she did so.
‘So many things…so many hurtful things… I’ve hoped for this day for so long!’
Lula squeezed her fingers back and glanced at Olly, who was smiling at the pair of them. He indicated that he would step outside and leave them alone.
She appreciated his gesture. She and Elizabeth had a lot to talk about.
*
As Olly stood in the cluttered kitchen, trying to hunt down some clean mugs to use for some tea, he couldn’t help but stand for a moment and imagine how Lula must currently be feeling.
She had to be overjoyed. Didn’t she? As well as sad that she’d found her mother but had lost so much time with her? That circumstances had split them apart?
Would circumstances split Lula and himself? She’d made no commitment to stay.
Despite his strong feelings for her, he couldn’t help but compare her to Rachel. Not physically. They were nothing alike. Rachel had been the conservative-looking woman of his ‘list’, and he’d imposed his own expectations on her. She’d turned out to be nothing like the woman he’d expected her to be.
Lula was nothing like the woman on his list. She had some of those qualities he craved, but she was right. He wanted marriage in his future, and children at some point. Lula couldn’t give him that. Nor would she commit to him. She’d said so.
But commitment was what he wanted. Love was what he needed. There didn’t have to be children. Not right away. And there were things they could do these days…it might still be possible…
Olly sighed. Was he trying to persuade himself or Lula?
He slammed the kettle down and leaned against the kitchen counter, his head hanging low.
Why couldn’t she be perfect?
Lula could be perfect. She’d come into his world and completely turned it upside down and he loved it! Loved her.
He looked up and through the dirty kitchen window, out into the garden beyond. There were large runs out there and he could see foxes inside. Wild animals within cages and runs. They shouldn’t be there. They shouldn’t be caged. They needed to be free.
Like Lula.
She was the biggest free spirit he’d
ever met. He couldn’t snare her with his demands for love and marriage and children. She couldn’t give him any of that, and look what had happened when he’d tried it with Rachel.
It had all gone pear-shaped and Rachel had left him—hating him, never wanting to see him again.
He couldn’t bear the idea of that happening to him and Lula. Just thinking about it almost ripped him in two.
The milk in the fridge smelt a bit dodgy, and he had no idea if the old bag of sugar was in date. Elizabeth Love needed to look after herself a bit better. The animals she cared for lived in better conditions than she did.
But perhaps she’d left herself in limbo after she’d had to give Lula away?
He could only imagine how it might feel to give her up…
*
It turned out that Lula’s mother had fallen in love with an older boy whom she’d idolised. This boy, however, sensing her naivety, had slept with her and then discarded her when he’d got what he wanted. He’d then made sure everyone knew how easy Elizabeth had been. A few months later she’d discovered she was pregnant—just as she’d started college.
Unable to tell her parents, she’d hidden the pregnancy and given birth alone, then taken a bus to the seaside. Seeing a family that looked kind and caring, she’d left Lula in their beach hut and got back on the bus with a broken heart.
Hurt and betrayed, she had retreated into her own shell. Learning that it was easier to deal with animals rather than people, she had taken a course in veterinary nursing and, as soon as she’d been able to afford it, had moved out of her parents’ home and started the animal rescue centre.
For all her adult life she’d looked after recovering birds, or hedgehogs, or kittens, or whatever was brought to her door, dumped and abandoned, shunning people. She’d lived this way, adopting and caring for strays and injured wildlife. And every day she’d thought of the baby she’d left behind at a beach and hoped that one day she’d find her.
‘Did she look for you?’ Olly asked in the car on their drive back home.
His Perfect Bride? Page 13