Mr Right Across the Street: The perfect escape for lockdown and from one flat to another share in the most feel good romantic comedy of 2021! (The Kathryn Freeman Romcom Collection, Book 4)

by Kathryn Freeman

  ‘Duh, I know you can’t help.’ He knew the slight was unintended. He might not have followed the academic path but in his daughter’s eyes, he still walked on water. Some of the time. ‘Do you think Mia will be able to? She’s into computers, and my friends who do computing say a lot of it is maths so I figured she might be good at it.’

  A warm, fuzzy glow settled in his chest. He loved how Grace and Mia had bonded over the last few weeks. ‘I’ll ask her.’

  He had half a mind to ping Grace Mia’s number so they could talk direct, but though Pete had not resurfaced in real life, Luke knew the bastard still lurked in Mia’s subconscious, preventing her from fully moving forward.

  It had to be the reason she’d yet to tell him she loved him, even though he’d said the words several times to her since that first time in her flat.

  Or maybe she doesn’t feel as strongly as you do, dumb arse.

  He guessed that was the other explanation.

  Shoving the unhelpful thoughts aside, he made the phone calls on his list, finally ending with one to Mia.

  ‘Finished the book huh? How many words?’

  ‘Just under 92,000.’

  He smiled at the obvious pride in her voice. ‘That’s one hell of a big number. Definitely needs celebrating. How about you come over to the bar in a couple of hours and I’ll make you a special cocktail?’

  ‘Sounds good.’ She paused. ‘No Smurfs though, because I’m going to dye my hair a new colour for the occasion.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ He liked the blue. Then again, he reckoned he’d like her in any colour. ‘Do I get to hear what colour?’

  ‘Nope, it’s a surprise.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll look forward to it. In the meantime, if you’ve got a spare moment, Grace is stuck with her maths homework and wonders if you’re any good at the subject.’

  There was a slight pause. ‘Really? She asked you if I could help her?’

  ‘Well yeah, but no worries if you can’t. She thought people who were good at computers were also good at maths, but I’m a master at computer games and I can’t even spell trigonometry, so—’

  ‘God, I’d love to help her if I can. I did maths A Level so I might remember some of it. Did you give her my phone number?’

  ‘No. I wasn’t sure if you wanted that.’

  He heard her sigh. ‘I really was a head case about not giving out my number, wasn’t I? But I’m done with all that crap so yes, please, give her my number and I’ll see what I can do.’

  So it’s not all the crap with Pete that’s holding her back. Nope, he wasn’t going to second guess how she felt. She’d tell him when she was ready.

  Mia glanced at her watch. Good, another ten minutes before she’d promised Luke she’d be at the bar.

  ‘We’ve just got time to finish this last question.’

  Grace, who was sat next to her at the kitchen table in Freya’s flat, groaned. ‘This is like torture.’

  Mia had to work hard not to laugh. ‘You said you wanted help.’

  ‘Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d make me do all the questions,’ Grace mumbled. ‘Miss would have been happy with the first five.’

  ‘But by doing all ten you now really understand how to do them.’

  Just then the front door opened and Freya walked in. She did a double-take when she saw Mia and wow, that was not an I’m-pleased-to-see-you expression.

  ‘Hey Mum, Mia’s helping me with my maths.’

  ‘And Grace is really happy about it,’ Mia added, hoping to lighten the tension she felt pinging round the room.

  Grace didn’t seem to be aware of it, because she sniggered. ‘Yeah, right. I’ll be happy when we’re done.’

  ‘And how long will that be?’ Freya asked, and bloody hell, the woman had clearly come back from the supermarket yet she was dressed in the cleanest, bluest jeans Mia had ever seen, and what looked to be a fancy cashmere jumper.

  ‘Mia said I have to do one more question.’

  Mia slid a little down her chair. Way to make her out to be the bad guy in front of the woman who clearly, if she didn’t hate her, definitely didn’t like her. Because she was dating Luke? Because she was helping Grace? Or because she didn’t like scruffy women with funny-coloured hair?

  Thankfully Grace had got the hang of the problems and five minutes later Mia stood to go. ‘You’ve got my number now, so call me any time you’re stuck, okay?’

  Grace shocked her by giving her a hug. ‘Thanks, Mia, you’re ace.’

  And yep, Mia didn’t miss the way Freya’s expression hardened when she turned to say goodbye to her. ‘I’m sure Grace appreciates your help.’

  Message between the lines: I don’t appreciate you being in my space.

  Thankful to be out of Freya’s death stare, Mia scampered down the stairs. If things between Freya and Luke were really as over as Luke claimed, why was Freya being such a bitch to her?

  The thoughts percolated in her head all the way to the bar, but when she opened the door, Freya’s unpleasantness was pushed to the furthest corner of her mind.

  Applause echoed around the room. Pink balloons were everywhere. Across the bar hung a banner saying CONGRATULATIONS, and scrawled on a few pieces of paper after that, in what looked like Luke’s handwriting, were the words AUTHOR-IN-THE-MAKING.

  People, faces she knew, smiled broadly at her.

  Naomi, Stan – Mia felt a pulse of satisfaction as she saw how close they stood next to each other. Beside them were Phil and Janet, Sandy and Jim, behind them Gary, Tony and Bill.

  And oh God, the girls were there too. Chloe, her face beaming, and alongside her Donna and Tanya, who had reason enough to hate her. A lump rose in Mia’s throat. All these people had come here for her.

  Her eyes slid over to the bar, where Mateo winked in that flirty way he’d always had with her. Finally, next to Mateo, was the man who made her heart leap when their eyes connected. Luke’s smile, the one she’d first fallen for, was in full force, crinkling his eyes at the corners, dimples flashing. In his hand he held a lurid pink cocktail, complete with pink feather stirrer.

  When their eyes met, laughter bubbled inside her, along with a tonne of emotion that made her chest feel tight and her throat almost impossible to speak out of.

  ‘Snap,’ she managed, tugging at her newly dyed hair which she’d streaked with pink, in celebration of finishing the rom-com.

  Or maybe it had been in celebration of romance, because this surely was one hell of a romance playing out right in front of her eyes. And incredibly, she was at the heart of it. She was the heroine.

  Shaking her head, she looked at her friends. Her friends. And felt choked all over again. ‘I can’t believe he forced you out on a Sunday evening just to celebrate me finishing my book.’

  ‘Forced us?’ Stan rasped. ‘Nobody forced us, love.’ He glanced over at Luke. ‘He did promise us a free drink, mind.’

  Everyone laughed, and then, thank God, started talking because as much as Mia loved the show of support, she hated being the centre of attention.

  Naomi was first to come up to her, squeezing her arm. ‘You’re a dark horse. I didn’t have our local computer whizz down as a romance writer.’

  ‘Whoa, you can’t call me a writer. I’m still a long way from getting anything published.’

  ‘Luke said you’d finished writing a book.’ Stan joined them, looking smarter than she’d seen him with a neatly trimmed beard and new haircut. ‘That makes you a writer. Not sure about the romance, mind. If it’d been a thriller I might have read it.’

  Mia spluttered with laughter. ‘For that, I’m going to make you read it anyway.’ She gave Naomi a sidelong glance. ‘Who knows, you might learn something.’

  The others came over and Mia lost count of the number of times she had to tell people not to get carried away. Only a few writers ever get their work published. It was what she said to Luke, too, when she finally managed to talk to him.

  ‘But writing a book, writing ninety th
ousand words, is one hell of an achievement. You should be proud, shout about it.’

  He was so happy for her, Mia almost couldn’t look at him because she felt too much. ‘Well thanks to you I am shouting about it.’

  Some of the light in his eyes dimmed. ‘Was this the wrong thing to do?’

  Her heart burst open. ‘This was the most amazing thing to do.’ Reaching across the bar, Mia gave him a fierce kiss. ‘I can’t believe you persuaded everyone to come, though. How many cocktails have you had to give away?’

  ‘You really think I needed to bribe anyone? That these people weren’t so utterly thrilled for you, they couldn’t wait to congratulate you?’

  Her heart bounced. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’ His eyes looked deep into hers. ‘You’ve made friends here, Mia. Friends who care about you.’

  She glanced back over her shoulder at the people who’d come out to support her and felt a burst of pride. She’d been so worried about starting a relationship with Luke, about being dependent on him for her happiness, yet without realising it she’d made other friends, too. Friends who’d still be there for her even if she and Luke didn’t make it.

  ‘It seems I’ve also found a boyfriend astute enough to plan this celebration to show me exactly that.’

  He let out a bark of laughter. ‘Okay, I like astute, so I’ll admit I hoped you’d see this as more than a celebration of your writing. It’s a celebration of what you’ve achieved in four months of living in Manchester.’

  ‘Friends, a finished book.’ She placed a hand on his cheek. ‘And an awesome boyfriend.’

  He waggled his eyebrows. ‘An awesome boyfriend who can make you romantic pink cocktails to match your hair.’

  ‘What do you think of the pink?’

  His eyes skated slowly over her hair and then across her face, the green getting more intense when they finally rested on her mouth. ‘I think you’re the sexiest flamingo I’ve ever seen.’ As she struggled between laughter and wanting to pour her cocktail over him, he grinned. ‘Nah, only kidding, you’ve got far better legs than their spindly efforts. You’re more … Snagglepuss? No, wait, I’ve got it. Pink Panther, except he was a boy, and tall, and had big eyes like you, but they were yellow, not blue.’

  God, he wasn’t just sexy and hot, he was adorable. ‘Is that it then, you’re stumped for a new nickname for me?’

  He shook his head, a slow grin forming across his face. ‘I’ve got it. That Cartland woman who wrote all the romance novels and always wore pink.’ Taking her hand, he kissed her knuckles, then slowly slid his gaze up to hers. ‘I think you’re the sexiest Babs I’ve ever met.’

  As always, he cracked her up, but as the laughter died, her feelings for him grew, leaving no room in her chest. She loved him, she knew that now, but it wasn’t the time to tell him. Instead she clasped his hand and brought it to her lips. ‘And I think you’re the sexiest, most thoughtful boyfriend I could ever have wished for.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Luke walked into his spare room to do his usual weights on Tuesday morning, and smiled when he saw a message in Mia’s window. The woman loved communicating this way and he had to admit, walking in to find a message in her window gave him a bigger kick than reading one on his phone.

  Coffee?

  * * *

  Naomi’s

  * * *

  11 a.m.

  Bending to grab a pen, he scribbled back:

  Missing me?

  They’d spent Saturday night through to Monday morning together when he hadn’t been working. It wasn’t nearly long enough. Increasingly he, the man who’d bounced from woman to woman in casual, no-strings relationships, was getting frustrated at not seeing Mia enough outside work. He knew she had her judo classes now, and that in between her day job she was busy editing her book before sending it out to publishers. Still, he wanted more of her time. Wanted more of her.

  Movement in the window opposite signalled she was putting up a reply:

  Maybe

  Another flicker of movement, and another message:

  Or I just

  * * *

  Need U 2

  * * *

  Buy me

  * * *

  Coffee

  He laughed, though he had to admit one of the down sides of dating a woman with a sharp mind was he didn’t always know when she was joking.

  After posting a thumbs-up picture, he began his work-out.

  Fifty minutes later he’d just got out of the shower when he heard a knock on the door. And Freya walked in. ‘Only me.’

  He swore as he grabbed at a towel. ‘I thought we agreed, no using the key unless it’s an emergency.’

  ‘It is.’ She appeared in the doorway to his bedroom, her slender figure squeezed into a slim-line skirt and bright red blouse. A mile away from Mia’s casual approach to dressing. Her eyes flickered to the towel he was clutching round his waist. ‘No need to be shy on my account. I’ve seen it all before, remember?’

  ‘It’s been a while,’ he muttered, feeling uncomfortable.

  ‘Sure.’ Her eyes ran over his chest. ‘Though not as long as Mia thinks, I suspect.’

  Anger spiked. ‘Keep Mia out of this. And speaking of keeping out, get out of my bedroom, out of my flat.’

  ‘Hey, no need to be tetchy. I came to ask if you’d come and sort the kitchen sink. It’s leaking all over the floor.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll be over later.’

  Freya cleared her throat. ‘Did you hear the part about it causing great puddles of water—’

  ‘Fine,’ he interrupted sharply. ‘Let me put some clothes on.’

  She smiled. ‘Again, no need to worry on my account. I’ll leave the door open.’

  ‘Freya,’ he warned, but she wasn’t listening. He swore she swayed her hips as she walked back along the corridor.

  He glanced at his watch and grimaced. Damn it, five past eleven. Mia would be at Naomi’s by now. Reaching for his phone he called her number, swearing when it went into voicemail.

  After yanking on his jeans, he pulled a long-sleeved T-shirt over his head and grabbed his tool box.

  ‘I’ll be back in a jiffy,’ he told Freya, dumping the tool box on the floor next to the dodgy sink.

  ‘What? Wait, where are you going?’

  ‘I’m supposed to be meeting Mia at Naomi’s for coffee. I can’t catch her on the phone so I’ve got to pop down and see her.’

  Freya placed a hand on his arm. ‘Why don’t I go and let her know you’ll be late, while you fix the sink? That way you’ll still get your coffee.’

  It felt wrong, his ex sending apologies to his girlfriend on his behalf, but it would save time. ‘Okay. Tell her I’ll be fifteen mins, max.’

  As Freya strode off, he reluctantly wedged himself underneath the sink. If the waste pipe needed more than a quick tighten he was going to call a bloody plumber.

  He’d just found the problem, hallelujah, when he heard Freya come back.

  ‘You find Mia okay?’

  ‘Of course.’ From his vantage point beneath the sink, he saw Freya’s patent black stilettoes come into view. ‘With her odd-coloured hair, she’s hard to miss.’ There was a beat of silence and when she spoke again, it was so quiet he almost didn’t hear. ‘This one seems important to you.’

  ‘She is.’ He held his hand out. ‘Pass me the wrench, the large one.’

  Freya placed it into his waiting palm. ‘How important?’

  ‘That’s my business.’ He focused on tightening the joint that had become loose and then scooted out from under the sink. ‘That should do the trick.’

  Jamming the torch and wrench back into the tool box, he strode towards the door. As he opened it, he glanced behind him. Freya no longer looked like the in-charge career-driven Freya he’d come to know, but the scared, pregnant eighteen-year-old he’d once loved. It caused him to pause. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing. Not really.’ She tried to smile, but it looked of
f. ‘I guess I never thought this day would come.’

  ‘What day?’

  ‘The day you fell in love with another woman.’ She smiled sadly at him. ‘You loved me once.’

  ‘I did.’ He stared back at her, unsure where she was going with all this. ‘But then you broke my heart.’ Anxious to find Mia, he went to open the door. ‘I’ll catch you later.’

  After dumping his tool box back at the flat, he legged it down the stairs.

  The door to the café opened and Mia looked up. Then sighed when she saw the mum and her toddler walk in. She went back to staring at her coffee. The talk with Freya had left her unsettled. It wasn’t so much that Luke was apparently fixing his ex’s leaking sink, but that he’d insisted on doing it now, when he was supposed to be meeting her.

  Couldn’t it have waited half an hour? And why hadn’t he come down and told her himself?

  Mia huffed out a breath and swigged down the last of her coffee.

  ‘You want another?’ Naomi had left her position behind the counter to slide into the seat opposite.

  ‘I’m meant to be meeting Luke here, but apparently mending Freya’s sink has trumped me. Or so she was delighted to tell me.’

  Naomi let out one of her hearty chuckles. ‘Sounds like you two had another run-in.’

  ‘No, not exactly.’ Mia fiddled with the teaspoon. ‘But the woman definitely doesn’t like me.’

  ‘Ah.’

  Mia glanced back at Naomi. ‘That sounds like you know something I don’t.’