It was only later, when she was back at her flat, that the truth dawned on her. It wasn’t Pete who’d ruined the evening. It was her, for letting him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Luke woke the following morning to an empty space beside him, and a gnawing emptiness in his chest. Alone in his bed, he went over and over the conversation with Mia in his office from last night, trying to see it from her side.
Had it felt like he was interfering in her life? She’d told him many times how much she needed to prove she could manage by herself. It had been part of why she’d been so determined not to start a relationship with him. So yeah, maybe he’d been heavy handed. With guys like Pete though, sometimes only a threat would work. Could he have done it more subtly though, and in a way that left Mia in control?
If he’d told Pete to come back to the bar later, talk to her when the bar was shut, he could still have protected her, still have made sure Pete knew he had her back, but done it by staying in the background.
Damn it, he’d cocked up.
Pushing the duvet off, he strode into the spare room and headed to the sheets of paper. He’d message her, apologise for being an overbearing prick. But when he glanced at her window, he saw she’d beaten him to it.
Can we talk
* * *
Plz
His heart sank. How many times in life did the words we need to talk lead to anything good? Grabbing his marker pen, he scrawled:
Here?
* * *
Now?
A few seconds later, his heart flip flipped:
U 2 me?
A moment later a second message:
Flat 214
He inhaled sharply, his mind a jumble. Could this really be bad news if she was finally telling him where she lived? Or had she been forced to do that because she’d lost her key/had to stay in for a delivery/any other crappy reason he could drive himself mad thinking about? Quickly he messaged back:
OK
* * *
5 mins
He spent two of those minutes in the shower, one shoving on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and then legged it out of the flat, just remembering to pick up his phone and keys before he slammed the door behind him.
A minute and a bit later, he knocked on the door of flat 214.
The woman who opened it, the one who made his heart leap whenever he looked at her, threw her arms around his neck. It took him so much by surprise, he stumbled backwards.
‘Whoa.’
‘God, I was such a cow yesterday.’ Not giving him a chance to talk, she dragged him inside and began to plant kisses all over his face. The gesture was more exuberant than sexy but God, it did more to lift his heart, and his libido, than any artful seduction. ‘Sorry,’ she repeated, with another flurry of kisses. ‘Sorry.’
Groaning, he lifted her so she was able to put her legs around his waist. ‘No, it’s me who needs to apologise. I should have let you handle your ex, your way.’
She buried her face in his neck. ‘Maybe, or maybe if I had it wouldn’t have worked and he’d still be here, waiting for me.’ She eased back and the eyes that found his brimmed with apology. ‘Mum phoned this morning to say Pete had just come to see her. He asked her to tell me he’s sorry, he realises he went too far but he’s got the message and won’t try and contact me again.’
Relief settled over him and he hugged her tighter. ‘Good.’
‘Yes.’ She rested her forehead against his. ‘I wanted to handle it myself, but I also appreciate how you stepped in, which I know sounds backwards.’ Her sigh fluttered against his face. ‘Truth is, much as I want to be independent, I also love having someone in my corner, so thank you for being that someone.’
‘Anytime,’ he told her gruffly, his heart full. ‘I’ll always be there for you, in that corner, fighting for you.’ He wanted to add, because that’s what people in love do, but he was terrified it was too soon for either of them to hear it. A man who’d played fast and loose all his adult life wasn’t someone who should rush into saying the words. And a woman who’d only just trusted him with her address wasn’t someone he should rush.
His lips found hers and he took over the kissing, teasing her, enjoying her. It wasn’t long before arousal pulsed through him and as his knees began to weaken he walked them towards the wall, pushing her back against it and shifting so her core was aligned with his. Relishing the heat of her, he deepened the kiss. Just as it threatened to get out of hand, she leant back, her breathing as uneven as his own. ‘Have you got your phone?’
‘My phone?’ He laughed softly. ‘I must be losing my touch if you’re thinking of making a phone call while we’re making out.’
‘Not a phone call.’
Intrigued, he allowed her to slide down his body until her feet hit the floor. Then he snagged his phone from his back pocket, opened it up and gave it to her. ‘Do you want to see my text messages? Is that what this is?’ He tried not to feel too insulted and instead remembered the reason why she’d been wary about him. ‘Because you can, I don’t mind. I’ve got nothing to hide.’
Mia stilled, a look of horror crossing her face. ‘Oh God, you think I’m checking up on you?’ Before he could reply, she was talking again. ‘Of course you do, because why wouldn’t you when the woman you’re sleeping with hasn’t even had the decency to give you her phone number?’
With that, she tapped something into his phone. When she handed it back to him, he saw that she’d added Mia (girl opposite) and her phone number. Feeling choked, he just about managed to squeeze out a thank you before pushing it back in his pocket.
Her expression was solemn. ‘I should have done it sooner and I’m sorry I didn’t. I let my experience with Pete totally cloud my judgement, which wasn’t fair on you. You’re so far removed from him,’ she shook her head, ‘I can’t even tell you how much.’
‘I don’t wear posh designer jackets, that’s for certain.’
She looked at him aghast. ‘God, don’t even think about comparing yourself unfavourably to that bastard. I’m embarrassed I ever went out with him.’ She gave a little shudder. ‘My family have never gushed about a guy I’ve introduced them to like they did about you. Mum thinks you’re handsome and charming; Dad says you’re solid, which – trust me – is real praise; and Elle would have your babies tomorrow if she wasn’t already married.’
He smiled, reaching a hand to touch her cheek. ‘That’s great to hear, but it’s what you think that counts. Because I’m telling you right now, I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you.’ He’d just told himself he wasn’t ready, they weren’t ready, but he couldn’t contain what he felt inside any longer. It was too big, too important to keep quiet. ‘Mia, I’m no longer falling for you. I’ve fallen. Arse over tit, head over heels, however you want to phrase it. For years I was cut up about Freya but now I realise that was young love. This, what I feel for you, it feels like true love.’
Breathe, Mia, breathe.
But it was hard to when your chest felt so tight. And your eyes burnt with unshed tears.
‘Mia?’
He looked so concerned, she forced her mouth to smile. ‘Sorry, I’m trying to wrap my head around what you’ve just said.’
‘Is it okay that I’ve said it? Because I’m not expecting you to say anything back. I’m aware this is too soon for you, and I was going to keep quiet for a bit, but you need to know I’m not going to get bored of you. I’m not going to start looking for someone else.’ He clasped the side of her face, his eyes devastating in their intensity. ‘Why would I, when I’ve found you? Best friend, sexy siren, cute nerd, funny Smurf, all rolled into one?’
Half laughing, half crying, she wrapped her arms around his waist. ‘I wasn’t expecting this when I moved up here. I thought I’d have time to get settled, to learn to live by myself, to find friends, before I started dating again.’ She peered up at his gorgeous face. ‘And if I’m honest, you’re not the type of guy I expected to fall for.’
> She heard his intake of breath. ‘Fall for?’
‘That’s what I said.’
She felt the tension leave his body. ‘You’ve got no idea how fucking good that sounds.’
She laughed against his chest. ‘Yes I have.’
For a moment they stood in silence, content, arms around each other.
‘This type,’ he said finally as he eased her away, taking hold of her hands. ‘Are you talking the cool-guy/nerd-girl shite again, or me the player?’
‘Both.’ She glanced down at their entwined hands, noticing for the first time how long his fingers were. How masculine and deeply sexy, like everything else about him. ‘I was wary of the player side of you but I know that’s not you now. What is still you, is a vastly good-looking guy with a ready smile that has, in the past, attracted some seriously gorgeous, immaculately put-together women.’ She glanced down at her leggings and oversized shirt. ‘That isn’t me.’
He laughed, a low chuckle that made her insides melt. ‘I don’t give a rat’s arse what you wear, as long as I can strip you out of it.’ His expression turned serious as he gazed into her eyes. ‘I told you before, I went with women who were confident and knew what they wanted, not because I saw a future with them, but because I didn’t. They were only in it for the short term, like me. Then I met you, and you were so different. You made me think, made me question. Made me want to spend time with you outside the bedroom.’ He gave her a dirty, sexy smile. ‘Inside, too, but you kept me at arm’s length so I had to quash all my usual instincts.’
She nudged him. ‘You didn’t quash them that well. You were pretty hard to resist.’
‘When I want something, I can be pretty relentless, so fair warning.’ He dropped a kiss on her mouth. ‘Are we really doing this then, Mia Abbott? Going steady? Not just sightseeing non-dates, messages in the window and you coming to the bar, but real dates, spending time in each other’s flats. Phoning when we can’t see each other?’
It sounded so good, so exactly what she wanted, now she’d stopped letting the past interfere with her future. ‘Yes, to all of it. By my reckoning there are still ninety-two places in Manchester you’ve still to show me, and I definitely want to phone you but also I don’t want to lose the messages in the window, because it’s us.’ She gave him a cheeky smile. ‘Oh and I can’t wait to see what Luke Doyle does on a real date, because his non-dates have been pretty spectacular.’
‘Err, a real date will be pretty much like the non-date.’ He waggled his eyebrows. ‘The difference is, you don’t get to leave me at the end of it.’
‘Deal.’ She held out her hand to shake on it, but he shook his head.
‘Oh no, we don’t seal a deal by shaking hands.’ For the first time his eyes skimmed beyond the tiny hallway they were in and down the corridor. ‘How about you show me where you work, so I can picture you when I look over at your window?’ He drew a hand around her waist, pulling her tight against him before bending to whisper in her ear. ‘And then we can seal the deal in your bedroom, so when I’m not with you I can picture you there, naked.’
Just as he went to grasp her hand though, his phone rang. He sighed, pulling it out of his back pocket, before giving her an apologetic look. ‘It’s Freya, mind if I answer? I’ll get rid of her quickly.’
‘Of course.’ Mia reminded herself Freya was Grace’s mum, so of course he had to talk to her. Even though a second before, he’d been focused on them getting naked.
Because she didn’t want to overhear – okay, bollocks to that, she wanted to listen to every word, but that wasn’t polite, reasonable or trusting, and Mia tried to be all those things. So she walked through into the kitchen where she could only hear the deep hum of his voice. And the occasional lilt of laughter, which caused her gut to twist.
He’s just told you he loves you, for God’s sake. She reminded herself of the incredible things he’d just said. Things she’d like to bet he’d never told any of the other women he’d been with. Except Freya.
‘Sorry about that.’ Luke strolled into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her. ‘Now where were we?’
Mia wanted to go back to the time before the phone call, but her mind wouldn’t let her. ‘What did she want?’
‘Oh, just some gripe about a light switch that’s not working. I’ll take a look later.’ He peered down at Mia, understanding dawning across his face. ‘Freya is Grace’s mum, her flat is Grace’s flat, too. The occasional stuff I do for her, I do because of that, and only because of that. Okay?’
Mia closed her eyes and relaxed into him. Starting a new relationship when her last few attempts had gone so horribly wrong was hard. Yet comparing him with the likes of Pete, of Danny and Andy, was terribly unfair. As Elle had said, she’d settled for guys who were average, believing that was her, too. Yet now she had the chance of a man who was extraordinary. And she wasn’t going to allow her irrational fears to muck it up.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The next month passed in a blur. Luke both cursed and loved the fact that the bar was busier than ever. The Cocktails 4 U evenings had been a hit, getting them a write-up in the local paper and, unbelievably, squeezing The Bar Beneath into the top-ten list of best places to get a cocktail in Manchester.
It meant his chances of keeping the bar had gone from low to high, and that he was actually proving to the staff, to Phil, to himself that he could run a business.
It also meant he spent long hours away from Mia.
On the plus side, Mia never once complained and if part of him would have liked her to gripe, just a bit, that she missed him, mostly he was thankful for her understanding. Of course, Mia being Mia, she wasn’t sitting in her flat waiting for him to turn up. She was writing.
He was changing the vodka optic early evening on a slow Sunday when his phone beeped with a message he knew was from Mia because he’d given her a special sound. The Smurf theme tune. Finishing the job at double speed, he grabbed at his phone.
Just written The End. Need to celebrate!
‘What’s brought that smile to your face?’ Sandy raised a hand. ‘Actually no, don’t tell me. You remember when I said I could guess it was your latest booty call messaging you, from the leering expression you made?’
The memory sent an uncomfortable shiver down him. ‘I’m not that guy anymore.’
‘God, don’t I know it. Now when you look at your phone you mostly have this half-soppy, half-downright smug grin on your face and I don’t have to guess who the message is from. I know it’s Mia.’
‘She’s finished her book.’
‘Wow, that’s amazing. We should help her celebrate.’
He eyed up Sandy, his mind spinning with an idea. ‘Can you get your hands on any balloons? Maybe pink but it doesn’t really matter. Oh and a congratulations banner?’
‘Probably. What are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking I’d like to show Mia how many friends she’s made up here, and how proud we are of her.’
Sandy’s expression softened. ‘God, you really are gaga over her, aren’t you?’
He nodded happily. ‘Yep, I really am.’
Sandy reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘I’m so bloody pleased. She’s exactly right for you. Gorgeous but not showy, crazy smart yet not highbrow, punchy without being aggressive. Plus she isn’t going to sit at the end of the bar and mope, waiting for you to finish work and resenting the time you spend at it. She’ll do her own thing and find you later.’ She grinned. ‘Of course it does mean you’re destined to eat curry on your lap in front of Britain’s Got Talent.’
‘No way, not me and Mia.’ He smirked. ‘I’ll take the curry, but we’ll be gaming, not watching TV. And after that’s got her all hot and worked up, we’ll go to bed, where I’ll get her hot and worked up—’
Sandy pushed her fingers in her ears. ‘No, no. I do not want to hear about your sex life.’ She nodded to his phone. ‘You focus on your end of things, I’ll sort out the trappings.’
Was he crazy to be doing this? Mia wasn’t an extrovert, like him. She might not want the attention. There was also the fact she might think it was too much – she’d finished the manuscript, not found anyone who wanted to publish it.
He shrugged the doubts away. She’d said she wanted to celebrate, he was going to help her.
Before he could call the first person on his list, his own phone rang.
‘Hey, Pickle.’
Grace let out a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. ‘I thought we agreed you’d stop calling me that when I turned sixteen.’
‘You asked me to stop, I said I’d try, but a sixteen-year habit is hard to break, so suck it up, kiddo. Now, what did you want?’
‘I’ve got maths homework to be in by tomorrow and I can’t fucking do it.’
‘Hey, what’s with the language. Does your mum let you say the f-word?’
Another sigh. ‘You’re not Mum though, are you?’
He’d always been the soft touch. Freya had treated motherhood much as she had her career – committed, dedicated, organised, with a spine of steel. For him, it had been his sole focus, the reason he got up in the morning. Bar work had paid the bills, but being a dad had fulfilled him. Still did, even though Grace needed him less and less now. Which brought him back to the phone call. ‘Fine, you can swear to me, but not to any other adult. Now about this maths, I hate to say it but your mum is the bright one. The only numbers I’m good with are working out the change from a tenner, and even with that I’m rusty, as most people pay by card now.’
Mr Right Across the Street Page 26
