‘Here you go!’ Seb said, cutting into my reverie by placing a steaming mug of the most delicious smelling hot chocolate in front of me, along with a spoon for the whipped cream and tiny marshmallows decorating the top.
‘Oh blimey!’ I said, looking down at the creation. He’d had his back to the breakfast bar for most of the time he’d been creating these masterpieces, so I’d had no idea quite how much he’d gone to town. ‘This looks amazing! It’s a good job I don’t live closer or else I think I’d be having to look for a bigger model car tomorrow.’
‘Oh, nonsense,’ Seb said, coming around the kitchen island and grabbing both the drinks. ‘Let’s go and sit in the lounge. It’s more comfy.’
The living room, as with the guest bedroom, had no whiff of macho bachelor about it. Again, it was homely, comfortable and bright. It embraced the look of a show home but with softened edges so that it still looked like you could live in it rather than be afraid to sit down, unlike my sister’s house. Beautiful but don’t mess it up – but that suited Sally. It was very much her ethos in life.
It amazed me how we were even related sometimes, but, as Seb had said earlier, it wouldn’t do for everyone to be the same, and when it had come to me moving out of the house I’d shared with my ex, Sally had been an absolute star. Her organisation and penchant for tidy and neat had been the help I needed to get myself organised when, in reality, I was still a little bit in shock at the fact the relationship I’d just assumed would be the one that would lead to marriage and possibly kids had fizzled out into nothing. I wasn’t sure if I had much to offer her in return, but we got along and loved each other – so long as I didn’t cover her in animal fur – so it worked pretty well and was certainly a lot less dysfunctional than a lot of sibling relationships.
‘Do you mind if I just check in with my parents and Humphrey?’ I said, glancing at the clock on my phone.
‘Be my guest. I’ll take these out.’
‘No, stay. It’ll be much easier that way as, I warn you now, Mum will be super interested in you.’
‘That’s fair enough. Her daughter is staying under my roof.’
‘Yeah, I’m not sure she’s too worried about that aspect. Like I said, she’s kind of always on the lookout for potential suitors and,’ I held my hands up, ‘believe me, I’ve told her that you don’t fall into that category, but you’re a male, in the right age bracket, decent, single, straight and… well, that’s kind of enough so far as Mum is concerned.’
Seb grinned. ‘I like the sound of her.’
‘That’s because she’s not trying to marry you off every five minutes.’
‘I’m not sure she’s trying to marry you off. She’s just looking out for you. She wants you to be happy.’
‘I know,’ I said, pressing the call button on the video chat. ‘It’s all a bit Bridget Jones and the turkey curry buffet at times though.’
‘I can handle it.’
‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ I managed to get out just as Mum answered the call.
‘Hello, love, everything all right?’
‘Yes, thanks. Just thought I’d quickly check in before you went to bed. I didn’t wake you or anything, did I?’
‘No, not at all. We were binge watching something on Netflix actually.’
My parents had a habit of doing this. For someone who barely watched telly, it amused me that my parents were always watching the latest cult series and were up on all the gossip.
‘Humphrey behaving?’
‘As always.’ Mum turned the phone around so that I could see Humphrey spread out like a lap rug across my Dad. I relaxed a little more, knowing that my dog clearly wasn’t pining for me.
‘You sure it’s OK for you to have him a bit longer?’
‘Of course. Are you all settled back at the house now?’
‘Yes. The car’s outside on the road and Seb’s friend is due round first thing to come and take a look at it. Hopefully he’ll have better luck than the garages.’
‘He will,’ a deep voice to my right said, an unmistakeable air of confidence in the words.
‘Is that Seb?’ Mum asked. The curiosity in her tone was also unmistakeable.
I glanced across at him. He was grinning and he gave a quick eyebrow raise in amusement. There wasn’t much that got past Seb Marshall. Damn. He scooted himself up the sofa a little and I angled the phone.
‘Hi, Mrs Wentworth,’ he gave a little wave and that slightly crooked smile that always gave me tummy flutters.
‘Oh, call me Tara,’ my mum waved his formalities away with a smile that I knew meant Seb had already won her over with that killer smile of his. ‘Thank you for helping Lottie out this evening.’
‘My pleasure, Tara.’
I tilted the phone back towards me before Mum could begin questioning Seb about anything else. ‘OK, Mum. I just wanted to check in. I’ll keep you posted tomorrow and let you know what time I’ll be home.’
‘OK, love. No rush.’
I hung up and looked at Seb. ‘Do you charm every woman you meet?’
‘I try.’
I rolled my eyes and he gave my shoulders a quick squeeze before settling back. ‘Do you want anything else?’
‘No, thanks. That chocolate was delicious though. Where did you learn to do that?’
‘It was another treat Mum used to do when Dad was away.’ He shifted a bit on the sofa, getting comfier. ‘I think sometimes she felt she had to make up for him not being there.’
I nodded. ‘Or maybe it was a way of distracting herself too.’
He thought about that. ‘Actually, I think you’re probably closer to the mark. I suppose when you’re a kid you don’t think about it like that. It’s all about you, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t think we see our parents as real people with feelings and needs until we’re much older.’
He nodded. ‘She’d been an Army wife for a long time and she knew the deal, but I’m not sure she ever really got used to it.’
‘Does anyone?’
‘Good question. I know she wasn’t thrilled when I wanted to follow the same path.’
‘But she didn’t stop you?’
‘No, they always knew it was my choice. Thankfully my brother stayed in civvy street so that was one thing less for them to worry about.’
‘If they’re anything like my parents, they’d have worried whatever you did. I think it must be in the job description.’
‘Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she came to the hospital though. She had this brave, positive look on her face, but when I reached out to her, I saw the shattered look in her eyes. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to entirely forgive myself for putting that there.’ He rubbed his leg absent-mindedly. ‘I can’t help but think the stress of me getting injured contributed to her heart attack.’
‘Oh, Seb,’ I said, reaching out and taking his free hand. ‘You can’t think like that. She knew you were doing what you loved and supported you in that. And she got to see you make a great recovery and start up the charity, didn’t she?’
‘She did. But she also got to see the mess I was in before I got my head in the right space.’
‘You can’t blame yourself for any of that. You didn’t ask to be caught up in that IED blast, and she knew that not taking the path you’d chosen would have made you unhappy, which she certainly wouldn’t have wanted.’
He looked down at my hand and laid his other over it before lifting his dark, thick lashed eyes to me. ‘And how did you get to be so wise?’ he asked softly.
There wasn’t an answer I could give that didn’t sound flippant, so I just tightened the hold I had on his hand for a moment in reply instead, before letting go.
* * *
We sat on the sofa talking until late, Scooby’s soft snores the only other sound, until Seb glanced at the clock, apologising for keeping me up. I dismissed his apologies, knowing I’d have happily sat there until dawn, listening to
him, exchanging ideas and thoughts and laughter, feeling more at ease than I ever thought I would have, bearing in mind it was the first time I’d been in his home and how awkward I’d felt initially about the unexpected sleepover situation.
‘And so polite too,’ he laughed. ‘The perfect guest. You can definitely come again.’
‘Is that a promise?’ I smiled back, perhaps a little bit too emboldened by the nightcap he’d poured us a short time ago.
He stood up and put down a hand to me still sat on the sofa, which I took, allowing myself to be hauled up. Scooby was stretching and yawning, making that high-pitched squeak dogs do when they’ve got a really good yawn going. ‘It most certainly is. Open invitation. I’ll even put it in writing if you like.’
‘Well, you know I like everything organised and easily referenced.’
‘I do indeed. You’re the queen of organisation. That’s why I know I lucked out getting you to take me on as a client.’
My mind, relaxed by the surroundings, the evening and Seb in general, had been happily skipping ahead of me on a path that, as a rule, I’d kept myself off. At Seb’s words, his reminder that, although we were friends, there was also a business element to our relationship, caused my imagination to pull up short, stumbling in its haste to stop. This effort apparently showed on my face.
‘You OK?’ Seb asked, his forehead creasing in concern. ‘You’ve got a funny look on your face.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, a weird laugh escaping as I made an effort to cover any other feeling I was experiencing right then, of which I had a few to pick from, not least of all, lust, which wasn’t awkward at all. ‘Bit of a head rush getting up, that’s all,’ I said, bending down to pick up the glasses from the coffee table.
‘Leave that, I’ll do it.’
‘It’s fine. I think you have other priorities anyway.’ I nodded towards where Scooby was now patiently standing by the patio door and looking hopefully between his master and the back garden, where a patch of grass clearly had his name on it.
I took the glasses through to the kitchen and gave them a quick wash as Seb sent the dog out into the darkness and stepped through after him. I was just popping them away in the cupboard I’d seen Seb take them from earlier when they walked back through, Seb locking the door behind them before he headed into the kitchen. The slight limp he walked with was more pronounced now, and I guessed the more tired he was, the more toll this took on his body.
‘You OK?’ I asked.
He nodded in reply.
I faffed about straightening the tea towel I’d just hung on the front of the oven. ‘I’m sorry. I maybe shouldn’t have asked that. I know you don’t like people fussing, and it’s not like I’m—’
‘Lottie.’
I stopped, mid flow, but kept my eyes lowered. ‘Hmm?’
Seb tilted his head and bent a little until I got the hint and met those dark, annoyingly sexy, eyes. ‘You are allowed to say, ask and do whatever you like. OK? If you ever ask anything I’m not ready, or willing, to talk about, I’ll tell you. Although, as I talk to you about pretty much everything already, I can’t see that happening. But I never want you to feel that you have to tiptoe around me. Excuse the pun.’
I gave him a slightly embarrassed look up through my lashes.
‘Understood?’ he prompted.
I nodded.
‘Good. So, in answer to your question, yes, I’m fine. My leg is aching and a bit painful, but that will be helped by some rest, which I think we both need.’
I ran a hand back over my hair. ‘Oh god, do I look that bad?’
He gave me a look. ‘Irritatingly, no. You don’t. Which makes me feel quite old and haggard in comparison.’
‘You’re not that much older.’
‘I know, which is what makes it even worse.’
‘Oh, be quiet. You look just fine and you know it.’
He gave me a look which made me think he was genuinely doubting what I said.
‘Seriously?’ I frowned.
Seb shrugged.
‘OK,’ I said, accepting his motioned invitation to head towards the stairs. ‘Example A. The charity’s summer gala.’
‘What about it?’ he asked, ‘And please hold onto the banister if you’re going to insist on walking up the stairs and not look where you’re going.’
‘I’m fine,’ I said, but holding on anyway, partly out of politeness, still half turned towards him.
‘I’m sure but it makes me feel better, because if you fall, you’re going to take me out too and that’s going to be a real pain in the arse.’
I blushed and held on tighter.
He shook his head. ‘You can let some blood flow through to your fingers though.’
By now we were at the top of the stairs and I headed towards the guest room, Seb leaning on the door jamb as we got there.
‘What about the gala?’ he asked.
‘Is this for me?’ I said, pointing at the neatly folded T-shirt that had appeared on the bottom of the bed.
Seb nodded. ‘That OK?’
I shook it out and held it up against me. I could have got in it three times over. ‘It’s perfect, thanks.’
He gave me a smile that sent flashes through my brain which involved there being very little need for any clothing whatsoever. I really wished he wouldn’t do that, although, as he apparently had no clue he was doing it, I couldn’t hold it against him.
‘I’m still in suspense,’ he prompted, shifting position as he rested against the wall.
I’d sat on the bed now and, cross-legged, grabbed the make-up wipes I’d bought earlier from my bag. Pulling one from the packet, I swiped it across my face. ‘You’re tired. You should go to bed and get some rest.’
‘I’ll never sleep without knowing what you were going to say!’
I shook my head, laughing. ‘Then at least come and sit down for a minute and take the weight off.’ I shuffled my bum back up the bed more so that I was near the pillow and Seb took a seat next to me. ‘Better?’ I asked.
He nodded. ‘So?’
‘Patience isn’t one of your virtues, is it?’
‘Not really. Which isn’t ideal sometimes, but I get by when I need to.’
‘That sounds like a story.’
‘And maybe one day I’ll tell you, but right now I want to hear yours.’
‘It’s not a story. It’s just facts.’
‘Whatever it is, for the love of god, tell me,’ he said, flopping himself back on the bed.
‘You’re such a drama queen.’
‘Not the worst thing I’ve been called.’
‘Really?’
He rolled his head, gave me a look and I got the message.
‘Fine. OK. So, you’re going on about feeling old and haggard, but as soon as we started brainstorming this gala, and ways to raise even more funds with the auction, one item kept coming up.’
‘One auction item?’
‘Yep.’
‘Can we get it?’
‘That’s purely down to you.’
15
Seb rolled his head towards me again and opened the eyes he’d been resting closed. ‘Why does the way you said that make me nervous?’
I waggled my eyebrows but remained silent.
‘So, what is it then? This mystery auction item.’
‘You.’
He shoved himself up onto his elbows. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You. More specifically a date with you.’
Seb said nothing. After a moment, he let himself slouch back down onto the bed. ‘Very funny.’
I gave a shrug. ‘I’m not joking.’
He pushed himself up again. ‘Isn’t that the sort of thing billionaires do in romance novels?’
‘Read a lot of romance, have you?’
He gave me a smile that illustrated perfectly why a date with him would be a very popular lot on the auction list and I squashed down annoyance that I didn’t have the funds to bid on it. ‘You’d be
surprised.’
‘Brushing up on your skills.’
‘Something like that.’
I raised a brow.
‘Actually, I just read whatever I could get my hands on sometimes out on deployment. I’m not a book snob, and it was good escapism at times. And, as you say, enabled me to brush up on my skills as a bonus.’
‘Ah, see? The truth comes out.’
‘I still don’t see how you’ve come to the conclusion that putting up an evening out with me would be a good way of raising money.’
‘That’s the thing,’ I said, tucking my feet up under me. ‘I didn’t. That little gem came from several other directions.’
‘Several?’
‘Oh yes.’
He shook his head.
‘You can shake your head all you like. It’s going on the list, so you never know, those skills you picked up from the books might come in handy.’
‘What am I supposed to do?’ He asked, looking slightly awkward.
I did my best to squelch the feelings this momentary show of vulnerability had unleashed and instead concentrated on the conversation.
‘On the date?’
‘Yes.’
‘What do you normally do on dates?’
‘The usual, I guess.’ He shrugged.
‘Talk about yourself incessantly, ask your date how much they earn and then tell them they are clearly doing something wrong? Let the woman know that you’re only there because your first, and second, choice fell through?’
Seb’s mouth had dropped open a little. ‘Is that really what you think of me?’
‘Absolutely not. I’m just illustrating that “the usual” can vary, depending upon whom you speak to.’
He rolled onto his side, resting his head on his hand, the dark eyes studying me. ‘Is that really your experience?’
I glanced at him, then focused back on the question. Much safer. ‘Just the most recent highlights.’
‘Lottie… we really need to get you a good date.’
I tilted my head as a sign of agreement. ‘Sadly, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep up with the bidding.’
My Year of Saying No Page 12