by Clare Lydon
I looked around the party now, to all these wonderful women and their intertwined lives. They’d always been my friends, always welcomed in my boyfriends, and now they welcomed in my girlfriend just the same. In the end, it turned out there was no difference, apart from the one inside of me. That certain something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Tanya would tell me it was a lesbian thing, so did that make me a lesbian? Maybe, but I wasn’t going to worry about that today. In fact, today I had no worries, because I was surrounded by friends and love, with my beautiful girlfriend by my side.
I glanced at Becca, who was laughing now.
Would I go back to being 23? Not for anyone.
Would I have liked to have known women might be on my horizon then? Maybe.
But I didn’t regret my past, not a single minute.
What’s more, I was looking forward to my future, which looked the rosiest it’d ever been.
Chapter 34
I’d had the dream again.
I woke in a flurry of hot sheets and damp skin, trying to ground myself back in reality. Only this time, when I woke up, there was no crushing sense of doom — because the dream was now my perfect reality.
I rolled over and smiled at her pillow, still warm, the radiator doing its usual early-morning creaking and moaning.
It was February half-term and we had a podcast interview today with the Food Network, which was a pretty big deal. Me, Rachel and Jake, together on-screen, all friends and working together beautifully. Even I was still amazed, but after the shock of our outing, Jake had taken our getting together in his stride, proving again what a supremely lovely man he was.
It also helped that he had a new girlfriend by his side, one he met through our new channel sponsors, oil company FrySmart. He certainly had more of a smile on his face of late.
I heard the shower shut off and rearranged myself in the bed, smoothing down my hair, making sure I looked the best I possibly could for Rachel’s return. When she walked into the room, an orange towel wrapped around her, she grinned at me when she saw I was awake, breaking her stride to walk round to my side of the bed and place a kiss on my lips.
“Morning my snoring beast,” she said, raising a single eyebrow as she turned away.
“I don’t snore!”
“I’m going to record you one of these days so I can categorically refute that claim.”
“Defamation of character, your honour.”
Rachel dropped her towel and crawled onto the bed, water droplets still clinging to her skin as she climbed on top of me, straddling me naked. Unwittingly, she was recreating my dream, but you’d get no complaints here. Her breasts swung tantalisingly in front of me, and I leaned forward and kissed them both. She smelled of coconut shower cream and her — and she was already my most favourite smell in the whole wide world.
“I can defame your character again if you like,” she said, pinning my arms above my head, her mouth curling into a smile as she moved her head down and brushed my lips with hers.
A shiver ran through me, as was Rachel’s affect on me. “Promises, promises,” I replied.
“But what I was actually thinking for today — after you get your delicious bum in the shower — is we can do our interview for the show, and then maybe head out and do some shopping.” She moved her head towards my side of the bed. “Get you a new bedside table. Perhaps even matching ones.” She held up a hand. “And before you explode, yes, I know this is laden with emotions for you, but honestly, don’t you want somewhere to put your rings, rather than on the floor?”
I stared at her, this woman who’d waltzed into my life and turned it upside down.
And now she wanted to buy bedside tables.
But this time, I didn’t hesitate.
This time, there was no angst, and I was all-in. I wanted nothing more than to buy a bedside table with her and everything that meant.
She kissed me again, and then stared, waiting for an answer.
“I’d love to go bedside table shopping with you. And I promise not to have a meltdown and break up with you in the shop.”
“We’re not going to Ikea, I’m not tempting fate that much,” she said, jumping off me and grabbing her towel again. “So we’re good? Shower, interview, shopping, dinner, sex? A Tuesday sorted?”
I grinned. “So long as I’m spending it with you, it sounds like the best Tuesday ever.”
* * *
Did you enjoy this book?
* * *
If you did, why not get my free lesbian romance It Had To Be You when you sign up to my VIP Readers’ Club?
Acknowledgments
As ever with any book, this one wouldn’t be in your dainty hands without help from a ton of people. First, thanks to my very early reader and friend HP Munro, who helped to shape this into the book it is — thanks for giving up a precious Monday for me. Also thanks to my early reading team — in no particular order Tammara, Iris, Victoria, Hilary, Susan, Katie & Bev — who always spot errors and give good suggestions. Take a bow, you’re all terrific!
As ever, thanks to my editor Laura who nods, sighs and tells me to do it again; to Kevin for the truly lush cover (you’re a marvel!); and to Gill for making my sentences stutter less & hug more. The three of you are integral to everything I do.
A tip of the nib to my wife, Yvonne, who always gives great feedback, as well as being patient, a great cook and the most generous person I know. I’m lucky to have her in my life.
Finally, thanks to you for reading. I’ve invested a lot in the London series, and each book is special to me — and I hope you feel the same way, too. Writing Alice’s story took me back to my early days of dating, when I wasn’t getting the full picture, wondering what was missing. And then I kissed a girl and it all made a hell of a lot more sense.
Expect Becca’s story next — I can’t wait to write it.
* * *
If you fancy getting in touch, you can do so using one of the methods below — I’m most active on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.
* * *
Twitter: @ClareLydon
Facebook: www.facebook.com/clare.lydon
Instagram: @clarefic
Find out more at: www.clarelydon.co.uk
Contact: [email protected]
* * *
Thank you so much for reading!
Leaving A Review Makes You More Attractive!
Breaking news! Did you know there was a recent survey done and it found that leaving reviews on Amazon, Kobo, iTunes or wherever you bought this book makes you 77% more attractive? It’s all to do with the increased brain power used to write the review which makes you more intelligent and therefore far more of a catch; plus, all that typing on the keyboard leaves you with strong hands, along with firm, lean fingers. I don’t need to say anymore, do I? *wink*
Reviews are hugely important as they encourage new readers to take a chance on me — if my book’s got some reviews, they’re far more likely to give me a try. So if you’d like more books from me, please take a moment to leave your thoughts. And it doesn’t have to be a novel — even a few lines makes a difference and every review means so much!
Also By Clare Lydon
London Romance Series
London Calling (Book One)
This London Love (Book Two)
A Girl Called London (Book Three)
London, Actually (Book Five)
Made In London (Book Six)
Other Novels
The Long Weekend
Nothing To Lose: A Lesbian Romance
Twice In A Lifetime
Once Upon A Princess
You’re My Kind
A Taste Of Love
All I Want Series
All I Want For Christmas (Book One)
All I Want For Valentine’s (Book Two)
All I Want For Spring (Book Three)
All I Want For Summer (Book Four)
All I Want For Autumn (Book Five)
All I Wa
nt Forever (Book Six)
Boxsets
London Romance Series, Books 1-3
London Romance Series, Books 4-6
London Romance Series, Books 1-6
All I Want Series, Books 1-3
All I Want Series, Books 4-6
All I Want Series, Books 1-6
Want More of The London Romance Series?
Flip the page to read the first chapter of book five, London, Actually
London, Actually: Chapter One
If Cleo Nightingale had to list her biggest irritants, her top three would be a slam dunk. In no particular order:
1 - Weddings.
2 - Her brother, Duncan.
3 - Saturdays that involved number one and number two.
Saturdays like today.
She rapped her knuckle on the door of his bedroom three times and waited for a response. Strictly speaking, it was her spare room and not his bedroom. For the moment, though, it was Duncan’s — ever since Michelle had turfed him out.
No answer.
She knocked again. “Duncan.” Her tone was getting irritated.
“Just go without me!” he shouted through the wood. “Why would I want to go to a fucking wedding when I know relationships don’t work, anyway?” The door opened and Duncan peered out, his eyes bloodshot, his face pale, his dark hair sticking up at all angles. He looked like someone who’d drunk two bottles of wine the previous night, and perhaps a bit of whisky on top.
Mainly because he had.
“You know what I should do?”
She took a step back when she smelt his breath, a heady mix of spite and battery acid.
“Do enlighten me,” Cleo said, waiting for her brother’s words of wisdom. This should be good; she could see his face souring as he composed the words in his head.
“I should turn up at the door of the church with a banner saying ‘Don’t do it, it’s all a bloody con’. Bang on the glass like Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate.”
“They’re getting married in a hotel.” She tried not to smile too wide. “Look. I get it — I really do. Having your wife leave you sucks. You’re preaching to the choir. However, we’ve told Fionn we’re going to this wedding, and seeing as she’s one of our oldest and dearest friends, don’t you think we should? Even if you don’t want to go, do it for me. You’re crashing in my spare room, eating my food and drinking my wine, so think of it as doing something in return. Plus, Mum and Dad are going, so they’re going to expect us to be there, too.”
He winced. “Facing Mum and Dad is not top of my to-do list when my life is up shit creek.”
She sucked on the inside of her cheek, leaning on the hallway wall. He was acting like the baby she so vividly remembered crashing into her life when she was five years old, and then weeing in her Polly Pocket when he was old enough to walk.
“You know what I mean. I’m saying that I want to go today, and you’re my plus one. I’ve been to enough weddings solo, and I’d prefer to have you as my escort.” She raked a hand through her still-knotty hair. “So for me, please. Jump in the shower, iron your shirt and be my knight in shining armour.”
“You’re not normally fond of knights in shining armour.”
“I’m all for them, so long as I don’t have to sleep with them.”
Duncan sighed, folding his arms across his chest and blowing a raspberry. “Okay, you win. I’ll get showered and polish my suit of armour. I’ll need it to ward off the evil spirits of marriage.”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks.” She pulled back before he could breathe his angry dragon breath anywhere near her. “And while you’re in the shower, try to think happy thoughts. I want a smiling Duncan by my side, not a snarly one.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said, standing up straight and yawning as he spoke, arms stretched over his head. “But tell me, why are you so bloody keen to go to a wedding? Marriage has hardly been kind to you, either, Mrs Divorced Before You’re 40.”
Cleo flinched; she knew she wasn’t special, just another statistic, but when he put it like that it sounded so much worse. For today, though, she was determined not to think about herself and just be happy for Fionn. Because who knew, maybe it would work out for her? Maybe she would be one of the lucky ones, the ones who beamed when they spoke about their partners.
It wasn’t something that had happened to her, nor lately, to her brother.
“Let’s just say it’s not so much the marriage, more seeing everyone again — all Fionn’s family and friends. Plus, it’s food I don’t have to cook and wine I don’t have to buy, so it gets a thumbs-up from me.”
* * *
Want to read more?
* * *
Click to buy Cleo and Becca’s story in London, Actually today!
