She almost purred with pleasure. ‘If I am, it’s because you make me feel that way.’ Again she brought herself upright, this time bringing her hands to his face. ‘But much as I love the new addition to the routine, we’re performing in front of children, including my own. We need to stick with the PG version.’
He smiled into her eyes. ‘Understood. We’ll save this one for the bedroom.’ Then he winced, holding her by the hips and easing her off him. ‘And maybe wait until my quads recover.’
Laughing, Maggie flopped, exhausted, onto the sofa. Whatever stuff Seb had needed to sort through a few weeks ago, it seemed he’d made progress because he was no longer distracted. In fact he appeared fully focused on two things: the youth centre Strictly Local dance competition and her.
The former meant he was often tired and had less free time to spend with her. The latter meant that in the time they were together, she’d never felt so cared for, so doted on or so listened to. And when they ended up in her bed, as they inevitably did, she’d never felt so needed. She tried not to worry that this hunger, which at times bordered on desperation, was because he’d be leaving soon.
But at night, when she heard him creep out, and in the morning, when she woke alone, it hovered over her like a dark rain cloud.
Seb sat down next to her, drawing her against his chest while he nuzzled her neck. ‘Umm, you smell different today.’ He kissed behind her ear. ‘Just as hot, but different.’
‘It’s a new body lotion.’ She laughed as his mouth tickled her, wondering if Paul had ever noticed how she smelt.
His mouth curved. ‘Body lotion, huh? As in you’ve rubbed it all over you?’ He brought his nose to her cleavage, and inhaled deeply before planting another kiss just above her breast. ‘I think I’m going to have to investigate further.’
He’d got as far as lifting the right side of her sports bra, when her flipping mobile began to ring. Snatching it from the lamp table beside her, she stared at the screen. ‘It’s Paul.’
With a sigh, Seb straightened, and Maggie immediately felt the loss. ‘Remember where we were.’
He laughed huskily, staring down at the breast he’d revealed. ‘Trust me, I’m not going to forget.’
As she pressed answer, Seb rang his tongue over her nipple, making her gasp.
‘Maggie?’
‘Yes, Paul, I’m here.’
‘I need to talk to you. I’ll be round in half an hour.’
Assuming she’d drop everything for him, presumably. ‘That’s not convenient.’
‘I don’t care whether it is or not. I’ve got Isabelle in tears, telling me you phoned her earlier to say Penny doesn’t want to be a bridesmaid.’
Maggie knew Seb must have heard the conversation because he tugged the bra back over her breast. ‘Fine. I’ll see you soon.’ When she ended the call, she gave Seb a rueful smile. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ He kissed the top of her nose. ‘Better to clear the air.’
He was so easy to be with, she was discovering. How refreshing, and also how freeing to know she didn’t have to mind her step, watch what she said. ‘You really don’t mind?’
‘Hell, of course I mind.’ He licked his lips, staring down at her now covered breasts. ‘I had plans for that body, with all its seductive smelling lotion.’ His eyes met hers. ‘But it’s not like you have a lot of choice in the matter. I take it you had a chat with Penny?’
‘Yes.’ And what a revealing conversation that had been. ‘She said she didn’t know Isabelle very well and if she had to go to the wedding she wanted to sit next to me. Not stand with Isabelle and her dad, wearing a frilly dress and smiling until her face ached.’
Seb burst out laughing. ‘She gets more like you every day.’
Surprised, she stared at him. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because it’s the dry, coolly cutting way you’d phrase it, too. I should know. I’ve been the recipient of a few of those verbal hand grenades.’
‘Ah, but only before I realised how cute you were.’
He grimaced. ‘Cute is for babies and soft furry animals. Men are handsome, sexy, hot.’ He flashed her a grin. ‘Pick the one that’s most suitable.’
She pretended to think. ‘Can I use all three?’
Laughing, he gave her a smacker of a kiss. ‘That’s my girl.’ As her stomach dipped at the term, Seb’s face sobered. ‘I should go.’
He made to stand, but she reached out to hold his arm. ‘You don’t have to.’
‘I don’t think Paul will be too impressed.’
‘I don’t care what he thinks. I care that we had plans, sexy plans, and he’s interrupting them.’ It seemed safer to blame sex, than admit she wanted the intimacy of going to bed with him. God, she wanted to wake up with him, too, but she didn’t want to confuse the girls, not when she was so uncertain of Seb’s future plans.
‘Well, if you put it like that.’ He settled back, sliding his arm back round her. ‘While we’re waiting for him, you can give me the story behind the satsuma we’re sitting on.’
‘The what?’ But she laughed, knowing full well what he meant.
‘Maybe it’s more of a tangerine.’ Pulling her against him, he tapped her nose. ‘Whatever fruit it is, I have a feeling you didn’t choose it.’
‘I hate it,’ she admitted, ‘but when Paul left, the girls refused to get rid of it. With irrefutable logic, they said it was where they watched TV, and wouldn’t be persuaded that they could still watch TV from a more tasteful sofa.’
He chuckled and the conversation moved on to favourite colours – his were bold, hers neutral – and then to favourite television programmes – his were Friends and Family Guy, hers Strictly, of course, and Countryfile. She didn’t worry about how different their tastes were though, because while they chatted he drew absent circles on her arms and nothing seemed more important than how close she felt to him right now.
The moment was shattered by the doorbell.
Seb let out a deep sigh and shifted so they were sitting upright. ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on. Your job is to get rid of him as fast as you can.’
Giving Seb a wry smile, she slipped on her discarded jumper and went to open the door.
The sight that met her was unexpected enough to send a bolt of alarm through her. Paul’s usually impeccably combed hair was awry, as if he’d been jamming his fingers through it. His shirt was crumpled, his tie hanging half way down his neck.
‘Is everything okay?’ she asked as he stepped inside.
He laughed, the sound bitter. ‘No, everything isn’t okay. It’s a bloody disaster.’
‘What is?’
‘This blasted wedding, for a start. Isabelle doesn’t have any children on her side and she thinks it will look bad if her step-daughters aren’t bridesmaids.’
As she led him down the hall, Maggie struggled to keep her temper. ‘So she wants to force Penny into a bridesmaid’s dress just for appearance’s sake?’
Paul tugged again at his hair. ‘For God’s sake, Maggie. She’s the bride. She wants them as her bridesmaids.’
‘And what about you?’ she asked as they walked into the family room. ‘Do you want them to be part of your wedding?’
He glared at her for a brief moment, but then his shoulders slumped and an agonised sound tore out of him. ‘Honestly? I’m not sure I want a blasted wedding at all.’ Slowly his eyes zeroed in on hers. ‘I think I’ve fucked everything up, Maggie. Including us.’
Shocked, Maggie glanced over to the kitchen, where Seb was pulling three mugs out of the cupboard.
What on earth was Paul trying to tell her?
Seb stilled, the ramifications of what he’d just heard weaving inexorably through his brain.
Turning, he found Paul staring back at him with narrowed eyes, his expression cold. ‘Looks like you’re making yourself at home.’
Looks like you gave up the home when you walked out of it. He added the silent retort to the long list of insults he
wanted to throw at Paul, but hadn’t.
Yet as he stood in Maggie’s kitchen, why did he now feel like he was encroaching on another man’s turf? Why did Paul no longer feel like Maggie’s git of an ex-husband, but his competition?
Logically, Seb knew Maggie wasn’t interested in rekindling the relationship with Paul, at least not as things stood. It didn’t stop the niggling doubt though. What if things changed? What if Paul, who no longer looked like a Pringle model but a man with a huge tonne of regrets weighing him down, what if he’d come to pour out his heart to the woman he realised he still loved?
A shudder ran through Seb and he shoved one of the mugs back into the cupboard, clattering the remaining two onto the worktop. ‘I’ve just realised there’s somewhere I need to be.’
Smooth, Seb. Damn it though, he didn’t feel smooth, or chilled, or any of the usual labels thrown at him. He felt a mess, his emotions jangling, his gut churning. No doubt he was making way too big a deal out of this, but right now he couldn’t find his inner calm.
All he could see was the proprietary look in Paul’s eye, and the stunned expression on Maggie’s face.
He had to get out.
But he wasn’t going to leave with his tail between his ruddy legs. Dragging in a lungful of air, he forced his body to relax, and his face to smile. When he felt he had his balance back, he walked up to Maggie, clasped her by the shoulders and gave her a humdinger of a kiss. One that let her know he didn’t want to go, and let Paul know he was staking his claim. It was primitive, probably it was crass, but Seb didn’t have the luxury of experience in matters of the heart. He could only go with his gut, and that was ringing alarm bells.
When he drew back, Maggie looked as dazed as he felt.
‘I’ll…’ She cleared her throat and started again. ‘I’ll walk you out.’ Turning to Paul, she said. ‘I suggest you make us both a drink.’
Paul nodded, and as he walked wearily towards the kitchen, Seb had a brief flash of sympathy for him. Then reminded himself that the bastard had made his bed. He couldn’t now complain he didn’t want to sleep in it. That actually he wanted to sleep in Maggie’s instead.
Maggie’s hand curled around his as they walked towards the front door. ‘I don’t want you to feel you’re being pushed out. I don’t care if Paul’s uncomfortable talking in front of you. He was thoughtless enough to barge his way over here.’
Seb halted by the door, his heart and his mind a tangle of emotion. ‘I think you should hear what he has to say.’ But don’t fall for him again. Don’t forget what a bastard he’s been to you and your daughters.
‘I don’t owe him anything, not after the way things ended between us.’
He ached, right there, in his chest. What was he doing, leaving her, when he wanted to stand guard by her side? But the man who stood at the end of the hallway, hands in his pockets, watching them, wasn’t going to hurt her. Judging from the look on Paul’s face, he’d come to mend wounds, not create new ones. So Seb had to suck this up. ‘You owe yourself the opportunity to get some closure on your marriage.’ He bent to kiss her, just one, gentle press of her lips. ‘If you want to phone me when he’s gone, don’t worry about the time. I’ll be awake.’ That he could guarantee. No way was he going to sleep easily tonight.
She smiled sadly. ‘Okay.’
Seb had been home – okay, back at Sarah’s, though depressingly it felt like home after staying with his mum. He’d been back only two minutes, just long enough to slump in front of the television and put some mindless quiz game on, when Sarah began her inquisition.
‘I didn’t expect you back so soon. Usually you sneak in at dawn. Have you and Maggie had a tiff?’
Feeling as he did, the question stung. ‘Leave it. I’m not in the mood.’
Sarah studied him a moment, then sighed and went to sit next to him. ‘Talk to me.’
He was too confused, too miserable, to put a voice to the emotions churning inside him. ‘I’m watching this.’
Sarah picked up the remote control and in a flash, the screen went black. ‘You hate quiz shows. If you don’t want to talk to me, then listen. I know you’ve been seeing a lot of Maggie. I know the pair of you have become close, probably far closer than either of you expected.’ She paused. ‘How am I doing so far?’
‘C+.’
She huffed, settling properly onto the sofa and tucking her legs under her. ‘I’ve never been anything less than an A.’
‘About time we found something you’re only average at, then.’
‘No, I can do better. I wasn’t focusing properly.’ She eyed him shrewdly. ‘You took her to Blackpool, kudos to you. Seems you do know how to give a girl a good time.’
He gave her a sharp look. ‘She enjoyed it.’
‘Hey, I know she did. She wouldn’t stop talking about it. Blackpool was the perfect place to take a Strictly fanatic.’ Sarah’s eyes searched his face, and then her expression softened. ‘You’re not usually this touchy when it comes to women. Or this lacking in confidence.’
He swallowed, trying to lubricate his tight throat. ‘It’s never meant this much.’
‘Oh, Seb.’ Sympathy brimmed in her eyes.
‘Yeah. Apparently when I said I wasn’t going to do anything stupid, I lied.’
Sarah reached for his hand, clutching it in both of hers. ‘Have you told her?’
‘That I love her?’ He shook his head. ‘Not quite.’ He inhaled, letting the breath out slowly as he tried to formulate his thoughts. ‘And after tonight, I don’t know if it matters any more.’
‘Why, what happened?’
He told her about Paul, and about what he’d said when he hadn’t realised Seb had been listening.
‘And now you’re sitting here, terrified he’s going to, what, somehow convince her the last three years didn’t happen?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Come on, Maggie’s far smarter than that.’
On one level, he knew that. But on another level. ‘I know she is. She’s also smart enough to realise she can do way, way better than me.’ Divorce, the belief she’d been somehow at fault, had dented her confidence. He hoped tonight’s conversation with Paul would start to heal that, to make her realise what he, and everyone else who met her, already knew. That rather than being ordinary, she was in fact extraordinary. And when she did… yeah, the rest wasn’t difficult to work out.
It was just after midnight when Seb’s mobile buzzed. Being wide awake, he snatched it up, heart pounding.
‘Hey. Is everything okay?’
Her voice sounded sleepy. ‘It’s fine. He left about fifteen minutes ago. I’m tucked up in bed now.’ She paused, and his heart went into free fall when she added softly. ‘I wish you were here.’
‘God, I wish I was, too.’ He could be, he thought for a wild moment. He could dive into his car and be there in fifteen minutes.
She needs time to work through whatever it was Paul said to her. Time and space. And so do you.
‘Do you feel better having spoken to him?’
A gentle breath, then a rustle. Seb imagined her shifting on the bed, her hair fanning the pillow. Her lips pursed a little as she considered her reply. He had to blink, to count the number of items of dirty washing piled on his chair, to stop the building arousal.
‘Yes, I think I do,’ she answered finally. ‘He was very honest with me, for once. Even admitted the fault wasn’t with me, but with him. He thought he wanted something different, and now wonders if he got that wrong.’ She laughed softly. ‘Apparently Isabelle’s lack of organisation drives him nuts.’
Just as yours would drive Maggie nuts, too. Seb pushed the thought aside. ‘So there won’t be a wedding?’
She hesitated. ‘I don’t know. It’s not my business.’
She yawned, and he realised he had to let her go. ‘I’m working tomorrow, but can I see you after?’
‘Of course.’ He heard the smile in her voice. ‘I’m going shopping with your sisters, but I’ll try to leave enough energy in res
erve to make you dinner.’
‘If the energy supplies are going to be that low, I’ll skip dinner and get straight to the good stuff.’
She laughed, and as they said goodnight Seb consoled himself with the thought that she sounded happy. Then worried himself to sleep over whether that was a reflection of the time she’d spent with Paul, or the phone call with him.
Chapter Thirty-One
As Alice and Sarah pulled out dresses left, right, and centre, Maggie started to go cross-eyed. No wonder Maria, the assistant in the specialist ballroom dancing shop they’d trekked into London for, was getting ever so slightly ruffled.
‘Stop.’ Maggie held up her hand. ‘I’ve got a suggestion. Why don’t we all sit on this very comfortable velvet sofa and let Maria use her expertise to select the dresses she thinks will suit me.’
Alice snorted. ‘But she doesn’t know you as well as we do.’
‘No.’ Maggie looked over at her friends. ‘But maybe I don’t want to look like me next Saturday.’ Their eyebrows raised in unison, and Maggie burst out laughing. Most days she forgot they were twins, they were so different, but right now their facial expressions were identical. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’ll be dancing in front of an audience, with the guy who’s organised the whole competition. I want something a bit… different.’
Alice turned to Maria. ‘What she means is, she wants a sexy outfit that’ll blow the socks off her dance partner.’
Maggie started to laugh harder, part embarrassed, part impressed. ‘That’s not… oh, what the heck. Yes, I’d like something sexy. Tasteful,’ she added quickly, ‘but definitely an outfit that’ll make him see me in a new light.’
‘Seb doesn’t need a new light,’ Sarah said quietly once Maria had gone to rifle through the rails. ‘He already sees you like that. It’s you who needs the costume.’
She was about to protest, when she thought of how Seb had looked at her last night while they were dancing. His eyes had caressed her long before his fingers had. ‘I want to feel the way he sees me. The rumba is such a great dance, but it’s so easy to get wrong if we don’t find that chemistry.’
Strictly Come Dating (The Kathryn Freeman Romcom Collection, Book 3) Page 26