Only When It's Love: A Chick Lit, Romantic Comedy Novel: Holding Out For Mr Right

by Olivia Spring

  Oh gosh. Me and my mouth. Why didn’t I just give a simple yes instead of going into all that gibberish about washing? Must be the nerves. He really is handsome. Whilst I’d be happy to be a stay-at-home mum and leave the rat race behind, there was no reason why my future husband shouldn’t help out with the chores. Don’t want him to think he won’t have to pull his weight too.

  For goodness’ sake. There I go getting ahead of myself. I’ve only known the guy for two seconds and I’m already thinking about the housework rota. Jesus.

  And I was supposed to be selling myself—not sounding like I couldn’t cope with putting the washing machine on more than once a week. FFS.

  ‘Don’t worry about that. I have a cleaner to take care of those things. We won’t want to waste our valuable life doing chores. There’s a whole world out there. So many countries to visit and explore. Life’s too short for ironing and dusting. I can pay someone to do that for us.’

  Really? Gosh. That would be lovely. Every time I had to hoover or change the bed sheets, I’d always thought I could be doing better things with my Saturday mornings, but like most people, I didn’t have the money to hire someone. I just had to get on and do it myself.

  ‘Do you like to travel?’ he added.

  ‘Um, yes. I went to Croatia this summer, which was pretty.’ I reminisced about my recent solo holiday. Would have been nicer to have gone there with someone special, though.

  ‘Thirty-three countries and counting,’ he said.

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘I’ve been to thirty-three countries so far, and I haven’t even scratched the surface. This summer alone, I went to India, Thailand, Australia, Germany and Iceland.’

  ‘That’s a lot of countries,’ I said, wondering if my list of destinations even stretched to double figures. Let me see: Spain, France, Greece, Croatia…er…no. Definitely single figures.

  ‘I know. I get long holidays, you see. I’m pretty much off from April until October. Well, there’s a few bits and bobs to do between then, like research, writing papers and responding to emails, but most of that can be done from wherever I am in the world, so I pretty much have six months off. This month I have to prep and go in for a couple of meetings to get ready for the start of term in a few weeks, but at my level, it’s nothing too strenuous. Then we have a break from the first week of December until mid-Jan too, so I’ll be planning the next adventure soon. Where would you like to go?’

  ‘Go?’ I frowned.

  ‘Yes. For the Christmas and New Year break? What countries would you like to visit?’

  I took a sip of my wine. I couldn’t work out whether this was a hypothetical question or he was genuinely making plans for our future, ten minutes after meeting me.

  ‘Um, I haven’t really thought about it. I…’

  ‘I’ll think of somewhere,’ he said, whipping his iPhone out of his suit pocket and scrolling through what looked like an album of photographs. ‘I’ve got lots of destinations to tick off my list yet. There’s obviously the sunshine spots in the Caribbean, which will be great at that time of year. I’ve been to the Bahamas, Barbados, St. Lucia and Jamaica already, but haven’t yet made it to Cuba, so that could work. Or on the other end of the temperature scale, there’s Austria, which would be very fitting for that time of the year. I’ll work it out. So,’ he said, clapping his hands again. ‘Marriage. How do you feel about it?’

  This guy was…I don’t know the word. Intense? Direct? I’d never expected to be discussing my thoughts on marriage on a first date. And the thing was, I didn’t get the sense that he was weird. He seemed like he was actually being serious.

  ‘I believe in marriage,’ I replied. ‘I’d love to get married to the right guy.’

  ‘Call off the search,’ he said, slamming his hand on the table. ‘You’ve just found him.’

  ‘Wow!’ My eyes widened. ‘You’re certainly forward, Professor Luke.’

  ‘Most people call me Professor Walton, but as you’re special, Alexandra, you can just call me Luke.’ He took a large gulp of his brandy and leant forward. ‘In answer to your statement, I prefer the direct approach. Saves time. That’s the problem with us Brits. A lot of dilly-dallying. No point beating about the bush.’

  ‘I guess you’re right,’ I said, thinking his approach was quite refreshing. ‘One of the hardest things about this dating thing is knowing whether you’re both on the same page. You know, if you want the same things.’

  ‘Precisely.’

  ‘So you’re talking about marriage…I know that clearly you’re not proposing to me, as we’ve just met,’ I laughed, ‘but don’t you at least want to know more about me first?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, leaning back. ‘Tell me about you.’

  I gave him a brief synopsis of my life. Grew up in Surrey, one older brother who now lives in Australia with his wife and three children, parents divorced, rarely saw or spoke to them, went to the University of Brighton, studied international event management, worked as a sales manager at a publishing and exhibitions company in Holborn, a place I’d been since graduating thirteen years ago, love animals, films, books…

  In a way, it felt weird sitting there rattling off a monologue about my history, but as Laurie says, dates are like an interview. Whilst I spoke, Luke nodded and punctuated my sentences with ‘I see’ and ‘excellent’ at varying intervals.

  I couldn’t quite figure him out. Luke seemed serious, but also like he had another side to him. He was very mysterious.

  ‘So we’ve established that we’re on the same page in terms of marriage, kids and travel. All looking good, Mrs Walton,’ he winked.

  Mrs Walton? Gosh. He’s jumping the gun a bit isn’t he? I had to admit that Mrs Alexandra Walton did have a nice ring to it, though. Or should I keep my maiden name and double-barrel it? Alexandra Adams-Walton, or maybe Alexandra Walton-Adams. Yes, much better.

  WTF?

  I couldn’t believe this conversation was even taking place in my head. This was our first date, for God’s sake. Now who was jumping the gun?

  ‘You’re very…’

  ‘Very…?’ He frowned. ‘Very what? Confident?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I be? You’re not looking for a man that dithers, are you? That’s definitely not me. Okay. Tell me, Mrs Walton,’ Luke said as he clapped his hands. ‘What are you looking for in your future husband? In me?’ He smirked.

  ‘You’re unbelievable!’ I found myself blushing again. I wasn’t used to a guy being so forward about the future and calling me his wife. Normally, they didn’t even want to commit to sticking around for breakfast the next morning, never mind discussing long-term plans. ‘Well. You’re right. A man who is confident is appealing.’

  You can say that again. Someone hose me down. All this talk of marriage, not to mention his ridiculous good looks and charm was a massive turn-on. I crossed my legs tighter, fearing that otherwise, an invitation to jump inside my knickers might fly out and drop straight into his lap.

  ‘Compliment accepted.’

  ‘Luke! You’re so…’

  ‘You’ve already said I’m confident, smart and attractive…what else?’ he said. I rolled my eyes, partly enjoying his cocksureness.

  ‘I don’t remember calling you attractive or smart.’ Well, not out loud, anyway.

  ‘Why?’ He smiled. ‘Do you disagree?’

  ‘No…but…’ He had me all tongue-tied…and I was sure I was starting to perspire too. This man… ‘What I was saying was that I would like a man who is confident and knows what he wants, but…’

  ‘There’s a but?’

  ‘But,’ I continued, ‘I also want a patient man. A man that’s willing to take his time and prove himself to me.’

  ‘In what way?’ He frowned. Oh gosh. I’m definitely not getting sucked into explaining the challenge again. I’ve learnt my lesson.

  ‘A man that can stand the test of time. That’s not just after a quick fix or a roll in the h
ay,’ I added, anxiously awaiting his response.

  ‘You mean, you want more than a one-night stand.’

  ‘Yes,’ I confirmed. He leant back in his chair and smirked again.

  ‘A man that is looking for a one-night stand doesn’t talk about marriage and kids on the first date Alexandra.’

  ‘It’s not impossible, Luke,’ I said. ‘It could be part of your seduction plan.’

  He laughed. ‘As you said yourself, I’m direct. If I wanted to have sex with you tonight, I would just say so.’

  ‘Really?’ I said, taken aback by his frankness.

  ‘Absolutely. Anyway, back to your point. I’m sure I’ve got all the qualities you’re looking for. I can assure you, I’m unlike any other guy you’ve met before.’

  ‘If you say so,’ I said, desperately trying not to get swept away with his sweet talk, but sensing it was already too late.

  ‘Oh, I do, Alexandra, my future wife. I do. So,’ he said, clapping his hands—he really seemed to like doing that—‘where to next?’

  Here we go. Knew he was too good to be true. Now he was going to suggest we go back to his place or he comes back to mine. So much for not wanting to sleep with me tonight.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I said, raising my eyebrows.

  ‘Shall we go to another bar? I’m going to a party with my friends later, but I don’t mind staying out a bit longer and spending more time with you before I head off.’

  I stood corrected. He wasn’t trying to get in my knickers. Hmm. This guy intrigues me. Smart, confident, successful and looking for commitment. He might be exactly what I was looking for…

  Whilst my body screamed, Stay! Go to another bar and get to know him better. See where the night leads, my mind shouted back a line from the book.

  One good date does not a husband make.

  Luke might have charmed me so far, but how would he act towards me tomorrow and the days after that? Would he message me? Ask to meet again?

  No. I needed to put my foot on the brakes. Before I started writing my wedding ‘save the dates’ in my head, I had to curb my enthusiasm. I needed him to prove himself to me first. I’d fallen for guys too quickly so many times; I had to be stronger this time around. I couldn’t get sucked in.

  ‘Tempting offer,’ I said confidently, ‘but I’ve got plans.’ He didn’t need to know that I would just be heading home to snuggle up with Cuddles and a good film. ‘Perhaps you’d like to walk me to the station instead?’

  Delivered like a pro. Well done.

  ‘Of course.’ His face fell. Laurie said it was good to keep a man on his toes, and judging by the disappointment I detected in his voice, I was doing exactly that.

  The bar was literally a stone’s throw away from Bond Street station, so once we’d navigated the crowds of tipsy revellers on Oxford Street, it didn’t take us long to get to the entrance.

  ‘Thank you for this evening,’ I said as we stood in front of each other.

  ‘Are you sure you won’t stay out a little longer?’ he asked, tilting his head like a cute puppy.

  ‘No…’ I said, throwing a bucket of imaginary water between my legs to tame my overexcited libido. ‘I better head off.’

  ‘Well, in that case,’ he said, taking my hand and kissing it gently, ‘I will say goodnight, Mrs Walton.’

  He held my gaze and I couldn’t help but blush. Luke really was a character. He was right. I hadn’t met anyone like him before. He intrigued me. It really was a good thing I was going home now, because I knew that if I stayed a moment longer, I, or rather my body, would be putty in his big manly hands…

  ‘Goodnight, Professor Walton.’ I smiled as I turned and walked down the stairs.

  That was a cool date. With a very hot man. Wow.

  I sat down in the tube carriage and a warm sensation rose within me. A mixture of desire, satisfaction and pride.

  I’d done it. I’d met a guy who treated me well, who I also found really attractive, and had successfully resisted the temptation to sleep with him.

  I’d turned a corner.

  It was early days and there was a long way to go yet, but for the first time, I was starting to feel that maybe, just maybe this Six Months to Love challenge might be helping me to find my Mr Right after all…

  Chapter Ten

  ‘So, here we are,’ said Luke.

  ‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘Here we are…’

  It was the following Saturday, and Luke and I had just got out of a taxi outside of my house after our third date. Just like our second date, which had taken place earlier this week, he’d taken me somewhere fancy. Tonight we’d gone to Buddha Bar in Knightsbridge. It was all dark and sleek, with oriental décor, amber lighting, a grand staircase with floor-to-ceiling crystallised dragons on either side and a metal Buddha levitating over diners on the ground floor. Definitely another new experience for me.

  The drinks and food cost a small fortune, but as always, Luke insisted on paying for it all, despite me offering to go halves. In a way I was grateful as, at those prices, I might have needed to take out another mortgage to cover the bill.

  We’d spent the night discussing a topic: can a man and a woman be friends? I’d noticed that during our dates, he liked having a debate. Maybe it was the professor in him. He’d concluded that, yes, they could, whereas I, fresh from watching When Harry Met Sally last week, said that from a woman’s perspective, it was difficult, particularly if she found him attractive and liked his personality. On date number two, we’d talked about nature versus nurture—what has the most influence on our personalities and the people we become? A lot more interesting than discussing the composition of hair gel, that was for sure.

  Last time, we’d said our goodbyes with two polite kisses on each cheek, but I was sensing that things might be different tonight. I say sensing, but what I think I really meant was hoping. I wanted to kiss him. I shouldn’t, because I was terrified that if I started, I wouldn’t want to stop. I was really attracted to him. Not just physically, but mentally too. He was smart and he really seemed to be into me. I was afraid to say this out loud, but I truly believed Luke could be a contender in the search for my Mr Right.

  As we approached my front door, my mind raced and my heart began to pound. What would happen next? Normally, I’d be filled with anticipation, thinking about how we’d go inside, crash through my bedroom door, then rip each other’s clothes off within seconds of leaping onto the bed. But that wasn’t supposed to happen tonight. I wondered, would he try to kiss me? And if he did, would I have the strength to push him away? If so, how would I do it without him thinking I was weird and losing interest? Well, if he didn’t understand, then he wasn’t the one for me. Right?

  Oh, please be understanding…

  ‘Well, thank you for another lovely evening.’

  ‘No, thank you, Alexandra.’ He tucked a tendril of hair behind my ear. ‘You really are a sight to behold. Your beautiful long hair, your sparkling eyes, with those long lashes, the way you move in those sexy skirts you wear. You’re gorgeous, Alexandra. Simply gorgeous,’ he said, leaning forward to kiss me.

  Within seconds, he’d thrust his tongue into my mouth and was exploring inside. His kisses were as forthright and direct as his opinions.

  As he pushed his lips onto mine, his hands wandered from the small of my back and crept slowly down my arse. He pulled me into him.

  ‘Oh God,’ I murmured as I felt his hard-on against my thigh.

  It felt so…so…

  What the hell am I doing!

  ‘I can’t!’ I jumped back.

  ‘Sorry, Alexandra. I didn’t mean to get so carried away outside your front door. Would you prefer if we went inside? So it’s more private?’

  ‘No, no. You can’t come inside.’ Jesus. There would be zero chance of me resisting if he stepped over my threshold. ‘I-I just need to take things slower…’

  ‘Completely your call.’ He raised his hands. ‘I shall bid you goodnight,’ he said, pec
king me on the cheek, ‘until next time…’

  He didn’t even protest, or question me, or…or…anything. Such a gentleman.

  ‘Would you like me to order you a taxi or anything?’ I called out to him, feeling slightly guilty.

  ‘No need,’ he said, opening the blue gate. ‘See you soon.’

  I put the key in the door, kicked off my shoes, burst into my room and collapsed on my bed.

  I grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, which I often did. Usually for disappointing male-related reasons. But this time I wasn’t frustrated because I’d been dumped. I was frustrated because I’d found a guy who liked me, plus treated me well, and I really, really wanted to sleep with him, but couldn’t.

  I reckoned Luke would be good in bed too. The way a guy kisses is often an indicator of what he’s going to be like. Luke’s kisses were firm and definite. You could tell he’d like to be in control. He would ravish me. He would be insatiable. He’d give me such a good seeing-to, I’d be longing for more…

  Oh God.

  Why? Why did I have to go through this torture? He seemed like a good guy.

  Why can’t I just have sex with him? Tonight?

  I hate you right now, Laurie. And hate is a strong word that I don’t use lightly. Aaaarghh! Damn you and your stupid rules!

  I closed my eyes and rolled around on the bed like I was in agony.

  In a way, I was. My loins longed for him.

  My phone pinged. I jumped off the bed, almost tripping over Cuddles, who had come into the room, and picked my bag up off the hallway floor. Maybe it was Luke saying he’d got home already. Impossible, though, unless he got a helicopter as he lived in Canary Wharf, which was at least ten miles away. Or maybe he was messaging me just because?

  I’m so falling for him.

  I unzipped my bag and fished out my phone.

  Oh. It’s her.

  My so-called mother.

  My mood immediately plummeted.