Strictly Come Dating (The Kathryn Freeman Romcom Collection, Book 3)

by Kathryn Freeman

  Alice groaned. ‘I’m not sure I want to hear about how good sex is with my brother.’

  ‘Sorry.’ But Maggie couldn’t contain her smile. ‘Really though? I’m not sorry, not in the slightest.’ She leant over and patted Alice’s hand. ‘Everything you say, I’ve already said to myself, but this pull I feel towards Seb, this attraction? I’ve tried to tuck it neatly into a box and ignore it, but I can’t. I’m fed up with being responsible Maggie, sensible Maggie. For once in my life, I want to be a little bit crazy, do something a little bit crazy, with a man who makes me feel good about myself. For however long it might last.’ And no matter how much it might hurt afterwards.

  ‘Okay.’ Alice gave a decisive nod of her head. ‘Then I’m going to cheer you on, and hope it works out.’

  ‘Just to be clear, I know there’s no future to this.’ Funny how her heart twisted, just a little, at the words. ‘That crazy I talked about doesn’t extend to imaging Seb and I will walk off into some amazing sunset together. I just want to enjoy life again, with a man who makes me weak at the knees. I don’t know what he’s getting out of this, I really don’t—’

  ‘He’s getting you.’ Alice rose to her feet, and when Maggie stood up too, Alice hugged her. ‘Paul’s knocked your confidence, and if I get to see him again I owe him a knee in the balls. Seb can see you for who you are, and trust me, if he thinks you’re worth chasing, you really are.’

  Maggie swallowed, wrapping her arms around Alice just that little bit tighter. ‘So, we’re good?’

  Alice pressed a hand to her cheek. ‘We’re good. Just don’t crush his gentle heart. And be careful with your own.’

  Three days before Christmas and here he was, watching his dad’s coffin slip past the curtains in the crematorium, into the ruddy great furnace… Seb shuddered and gripped his mum’s hand tighter.

  As she began to cry he drew her to him, his heart heavy, aching. People began to file out, casting them sympathetic glances, and Seb tried to smile his thanks.

  That was when he caught Maggie’s eye. Dressed in a simple black trouser suit, her skin looked pale, and those eyes, God, the compassion in them nearly tore him in two. For a few blessed moments he held her gaze, feeling a measure of calm for the first time since he’d left her bed the other night. Then someone walked in front of her, and the connection was broken. Immediately his heart was left beating painfully, his mind agitated once more.

  ‘Come on, Mum.’ He nodded behind her, where Alice was pushing his niece and nephew none too subtly off the hard wooden benches and up the aisle. ‘Alice is in full sergeant major mode. If we don’t get to the pub in twenty minutes, and then don’t eat at least twice as much as we want to, she’ll hunt us down.’

  His mum elbowed him. ‘Don’t you be disrespectful to your sister.’

  ‘Hey, I’m just telling the truth.’

  Sarah appeared at his side. ‘I’ll take Mum to the pub. I think there’s someone who’d like to see you.’ She looked pointedly over to Maggie, who was hovering near the front door to the small chapel.

  His mum caught the direction of Sarah’s gaze, and blinked. ‘It’s Maggie? The woman you’ve been dancing with, the one you bought the car for? The one you went to see the other night?’

  Sarah coughed. ‘I’m not sure this is a suitable conversation for a crematorium.’

  ‘Nonsense. Your dad was always interested in Seb’s dalliances.’

  ‘Dalliances? Christ.’ Seb winced and briefly looked heavenwards. ‘Sorry. But who uses words like that?’

  ‘What would you prefer I used? Affairs? Sexual exploits?’ Ignoring his grumbles, his mum glanced back at Maggie. ‘Well, she’s a lovely lass, so get yourself over there and say hello. I’ll defend you against Alice should the need arise.’

  The three of them shared a smile. A brief but much-needed touch of light, after a week that had been filled with so much dark.

  Not needing to be told twice, Seb strode towards Maggie, his haste no doubt not fitting for the occasion, but his body unable to put on the necessary restraint.

  ‘Hey.’ The moment he reached her, he took her hand and tugged her outside with him. ‘Did you bring your car?’

  ‘Yes.’ He caught sight of the BMW and began to lead her towards it, uncaring how it looked, the son dashing off with one of the mourners. He only knew he needed a dose of her; her serenity, her kindness, the unique way she had of making him feel like he could do anything, be anything.

  He opened the driver’s door for her, walked around the bonnet and climbed into the passenger’s seat. The moment she was settled, he leant across and pressed his lips against hers. ‘You have no idea how much I’ve needed this,’ he whispered in between long, drugging kisses on her mouth and light, worshipful kisses on her cheeks, her forehead, the tip of her nose. ‘How much I’ve missed you.’

  Eventually Maggie drew back, placing a hand on either side of his face and searching his eyes. ‘You look tired. How are you doing?’

  It was the first time he’d been asked that since his dad had died. Everyone was so focused on his mum, which was absolutely right, but he couldn’t explain how much it meant that she cared enough to ask. ‘I’m okay.’ He put his hands over hers and drew in a breath, letting it out slowly before replying. ‘Our talk helped, and Alice has taken it on herself to be a kind of cheerleader for me, regularly dropping things into the conversation like ‘Remember that time dad was so puffed up with pride when Seb won the school sports prize.’ His eyes found hers. ‘Something tells me I have you to thank for that.’

  ‘I told her we’re, well, that you’d come over to mine, and—’

  ‘Please don’t tell me you discussed sex with my sister.’

  Maggie smiled. ‘Not the specifics, no.’ Her pale cheeks turned pink. ‘Just that we’ve been… intimate.’

  For the first time in days, he felt laughter bubble. ‘God, I love your careful speech, Mags.’ He rested his forehead against hers and inhaled, letting the smell of her, the touch, her innate strength, ground him. ‘I can’t wait to be intimate with you again.’

  ‘Me too.’

  Her words were no more than a whisper, but the promise they held, the knowledge that he had that to look forward to, had her to look forward to… it would get him through the next few days. So would this, he thought as his mouth found hers once more, driving them both wild for a few delicious minutes before he reluctantly drew back, giving her a wry smile. ‘Making out in a crematorium car park is probably frowned on.’

  Her answering smile held a touch of mischief. ‘I didn’t know your dad that well, but I think he’d approve.’

  Seb laughed quietly, locking small details of her face – the freckles he’d missed, the small dimple in her chin – into his memory bank. ‘He would have approved of you, that’s for sure.’ Seb could almost hear his dad’s voice. Smart woman like that? She’ll not be interested in you until you sort yourself out.

  But she’s here with me now, Pops.

  ‘Are you coming to the pub? Help us eat some of the food mountain Alison ordered?’

  Maggie shook her head. ‘Sorry, I can’t. I’ve got a full patient load this afternoon.’

  ‘Hey, don’t apologise. We appreciate you coming to the service.’ Sighing, he took hold of her hand. ‘I guess, with Christmas round the corner, this is goodbye for a while.’ He hesitated, aware it had its faults, but needing to at least try. ‘Unless… I don’t suppose you and the girls fancy spending some time with us Armstrongs?’

  She bit into her lip, then shook her head. ‘You need to be with your family, and I need to spend some time with mine.’ Her gaze strayed outside. ‘The girls don’t see much of my parents – their choice, not ours – but this is at least one time of year they make the effort. And my sister Emily always goes, so I have her company to look forward to.’

  Disappointment settled heavy in his gut. ‘When will you be home again?’

  ‘I’m back at work on the Tuesday.’

  ‘A
nd that’s the week I’m doing evening shifts.’ He ran a hand down her cheek, savouring her while he could. ‘Any chance we can meet for a rumba rehearsal early in the New Year?’

  Her cheek lifted as she smiled. ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘Okay then, I’ll be in touch. Happy Christmas, Mags.’

  She caught his hand and squeezed his fingers. ‘Happy Christmas, Seb.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It turned out that a week during which she saw Seb and a week when she didn’t were totally different time frames. The second felt about ten times slower than the first. Maybe it wasn’t Seb, maybe it was just that the time at her parents over Christmas had dragged more than usual. Or that the post-Christmas rush of patients had been harder work.

  Or that while Alice and Sarah had taken the news of her dating their brother in their stride, Hannah had been subdued when she’d told her. ‘I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. The way he looks at you, the way he carried you from the car that night. I knew then he wanted to kiss you. It’s just…’ She’d trailed off, sighing. ‘I was kind of hoping he’d want to kiss me.’

  Maggie hadn’t known what to say. The word sorry had been on the tip of her tongue, but she’d swallowed it down because saying it would have been a lie. She wasn’t sorry. She was wary, a little anxious, but she was also a woman with, it was time to admit, no longer a small crush but a great big fat one. It was the only way to explain why she’d spent the last fortnight with her hand glued to her phone, and why her heart had bounced every time it had vibrated with a text.

  Some of them had made her smile.

  Alice must have brought an ostrich, not a turkey. S xxx

  We hid Sarah’s laptop. She’s threatening to put my balls in a vice if I don’t tell her where it is. I told her you’d be cross. S xxx

  At least I hope you would be. S xxx

  Some of them brought a lump to her throat.

  Lying in bed and wishing you were next to me. S xxx

  Hope that doesn’t sound too sappy? Or too much? S xxx

  But I miss you, Mags. S xxx

  Apparently another thing she’d found out this Christmas holiday was that being thirty-seven – and crap, another week and she’d be thirty-eight – still, being old enough to know better, didn’t stop a woman from re-reading all the texts she’d received, whenever she got the chance.

  Probably she didn’t need to actually read them now; they were burnt into her memory.

  Penny put her toothbrush carefully into the holder. ‘What time is Seb here?’

  ‘Yeah, I ummmmmmm.’ Tabby spoke around a mouthful of toothbrush, rivers of frothy toothpaste flooding down her chin.

  Maggie tapped her on the nose. ‘Sorry?’

  Tabby gave her a toothpasty grin. ‘I want to see him.’

  ‘You can both see him, and dance with him. Then it’s bedtime.’

  Tabby pouted. ‘It’s not a school night.’

  ‘No, but you’re seven and nine. You both need your sleep or you’re cranky in the morning.’ And I need some time with Seb alone, or I’ll be cranky, too.

  Seb arrived fifteen minutes later than advertised, and just late enough for the girls to have wound her and each other up to a fever pitch.

  ‘Me first, me first,’ Tabby yelled the moment Maggie opened the door.

  ‘That’s not fair. I’m the one having lessons with Seb,’ Penny protested. ‘You just butted in.’

  Maggie raised her eyes to Seb, wishing she could hug him, kiss him, but happy just to see him. He was losing his tan but his eyes were still a vivid blue, his hair still too long, and the casual confidence that was so much a part of him flowed through his lean, athletic body.

  God help her, his smile still totally undid her.

  ‘Whoa, girls, let’s start this again.’ After one last, lingering look at her, he raised his hand for Penny to high-five him. ‘Hello, Penelope, how are you? Did you have a good Christmas?’

  She rolled her eyes, but gave him a sweet smile. ‘Yes, thanks.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Then he turned to Tabby for another high five. ‘And Tabs, how about you? Are you well?’

  Tabby giggled. ‘Umm, yes?’

  ‘Well enough to go and help your sister get me a drink of water while I say hello to your mum?’

  She huffed, putting her hands on her hips. ‘I guess.’

  As the pair of them charged down the hall, Maggie turned to Seb. ‘Thirsty work is it, driving?’

  He laughed, beckoning her towards him. ‘Come here. I reckon I’ve bought myself two minutes.’

  Feeling giddy, she took a step, he took a step. Then his mouth crashed onto hers, his arms wrapped around her, and Maggie felt her whole body go boneless.

  ‘I forgot how sexy you smell.’ His tongue darted between her lips. ‘How sweet you taste.’ His hand smoothed down her spine, and over her bum. ‘How amazing you feel.’

  On a groan, he stepped back, his eyes seeming to make the same inventory as hers. Then he smiled. ‘How are you, Mags?’

  She laughed, wanting to tell him she felt a lot better now she’d seen him, but stopping just before she did because it felt too much. They’d slept together twice, agreed to go out. Small steps were needed. Not a mad, heedless dash. ‘I’m sorry about the girls, they’re excited to dance with you.’

  ‘And you?’ His eyes turned darker, his lips curved. ‘Are you excited to dance with me?’

  ‘I’m excited to dance.’ When his expression fell, she added. ‘And with your oily hips.’

  ‘You mean these?’ He strutted down the hallway, rotating his hips from side to side in a totally over-the-top impression of the rumba progressive walk. ‘Greasy enough for you?’

  It was hard to focus on small steps, to remember to be cautious, when you were with a man who could make you laugh. And when that man was so good with your daughters.

  As Maggie watched Seb patiently teach Tabby and Penny the waltz box steps a short while later, she wondered if Paul would ever really know what he was missing out on. He was at least making more of an effort now. He’d phoned them on Christmas Day, and come to see them last Sunday bearing presents she knew Isabelle had chosen. A sweet fluffy bunny for Tabby, which she’d said thank you for and promptly thrown onto the sofa, never to be touched again. A Barbie doll for Penny, who’d smiled politely, and afterwards asked Maggie if she could take it back and get a science set.

  ‘Mum.’

  Maggie gave a start. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’

  ‘Watch what I learned.’

  Tabby proceeded to take Seb’s hand, and do a faltering but perfectly correct box step with him. ‘That’s amazing, Tabby.’

  Seb ruffled her daughter’s hair. ‘It’ll be easier in a few years, when she’s not so much of a short-arse.’

  Maggie knew the moment he was aware of what he’d said, because his gaze shot to hers. She also knew her smile must have frozen on her face, because he briefly closed his eyes, his shoulders rising and falling as he sighed.

  As Seb waited on the Jaffa orange sofa for Maggie to come back down after saying goodnight to the girls, he wondered if it usually took this long to settle them. Or if she was hiding from him.

  It’s not as if he’d meant anything by his casual remark. He hadn’t been sending her a coded message: this isn’t just a fling, I see us still together when Tabby’s a foot taller.

  Yet for the first time in his life, the thought of planning that far ahead didn’t send him into a panic. In fact, the more he tested it out, the more he tried to imagine still living here, still seeing Maggie next year, the more comfortably the idea sat with him. From the way she’d reacted, certainly more comfortably than it had for her.

  He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned to find her walking quietly towards him. ‘That took a while.’

  Had there been an edge to his words? Maybe, because she stared at him a moment, as if trying to puzzle him out, before she spoke. ‘They didn’t want to go to bed. They wanted
to watch us practice.’

  And now he felt like a git. Giving her a sheepish smile, he stood and walked towards her. ‘Ah. Sorry.’ He ran his hand down her arms, then took hold of her hands. ‘I thought maybe you were avoiding me.’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘You know why.’ He heaved out a sigh. ‘It was a throwaway comment, Mags. Not a marriage proposal.’

  It was definitely the wrong thing to say, because she snatched her hands away from his. ‘I know that.’

  ‘Then why did you look so panic-stricken?’

  ‘Because I don’t want the girls to get the wrong idea.’ Her eyes, usually so tranquil, snapped back at him. ‘I don’t want them to have another man in their life they think is permanent, only to find he buggers off.’

  And now he didn’t just feel like a git, he felt like a total douchebag. ‘Okay, sorry.’ Tension filled the air between them, and Seb felt his evening slowly unravelling. ‘Do you still want to practice? Or do you want me to go?’

  She walked into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge, followed by two glasses. ‘I want to have a glass of wine.’ Her gaze finally found his. ‘And then I want to rumba.’

  Relief flowed through him and he followed her into the kitchen, perching on a bar stool. ‘Okay then.’ He nodded when she pointed to the glass. ‘Just a small one.’ When she’d poured, he picked up his glass. ‘What are we drinking to?’

  She pursed her lips. ‘Active hips and tight frames.’

  He touched his glass to hers. ‘And lots of flirting.’

  He received a small, but yes, decidedly flirty smile.

  Two hours later, he couldn’t say his hip movements were any smoother, but he could say he’d felt every bit of the steamy intimacy, the sexual chemistry, the rumba was all about. The tease of her body as it wrapped around his, the glancing yet utterly erotic press of her buttocks against his groin… the warmth of her skin against his hands, those rhythmic, sensual movements she was so frigging amazing at. Christ, it was two hours of foreplay and the thought of leaving the evening there, of going home to his empty bed, was killing him.