“Well, I’m not like every other girl you know.” My heart pounded like I had run around the block.
“Clearly, you are not like every other girl.” His eyes gleamed. “And neither is Becca.”
Damn. I had forgotten about her. “So she likes Grey’s Anatomy and had a good appetite. Sounds like your twin.”
“Now, now, now.” He snatched my second sugar before I had time to open it. “I’ve been around women long enough to understand when they are hiding an insult within the depths of a compliment. You should hear the things nurses I work with say. One reason I never date any of them.”
I stuck my hand out, palm up. “Give it back. Like I told you, I’m not like the other women you know.”
“Hmm. Perhaps I shall test you.” He swung the packet between his finger and thumb to persuade the sugar to the bottom, tore it and dumped it into my cappuccino.
“Thank you.” I spooned up froth and sugar before it melted and crunched the grains between my teeth. “Go ahead. Test me.”
“Let’s see.” The cushioned fabric squeaked as he sat back. “You’re a brunette with red tones in your hair. I can see you wear contact lenses and I reckon you were teased at school for wearing glasses.”
A lead weight sank in my belly. “Why are you describing me? I know what I look like.”
He leapt out of his chair and scraped it close to mine. “Ah. But do you know that your hazel eyes have green flecks in them that catch the light, and that tiny, oval mole near the corner of your eye just makes a man want to kiss it?”
This was poking me in a very raw place. Tears threatened. He was too close, but the wall prevented me from moving the chair further to the side. I scooted back as far as I could in my coffin seat. “Nobody ever kissed my mole.”
Disbelief and a hint of sadness shadowed his eyes. Sensitive to my disquiet, he withdrew a little. “Do you date?”
“It’s been a long time.” I refused to think of Calum. He didn’t know how to date or woo a woman. Woo. I liked that word. It conjured up images of knights and their ladies and handkerchiefs. Romance.
He drained half his cup in one slug. “Tell me about your last date.”
“Persistent, aren’t you? Why don’t you tell me about Becca, instead?”
“Touchy subject for you. I wonder why.” He squinted at me over the rim of his coffee. “I will find out, you know.” With his gaze locked onto mine, he said, “Becca is blonde, green-eyed and curvaceous. A bit like you. Curvaceous, I mean.”
“Some would say pudgy,” I muttered.
He set his cup on the saucer with a clack. “You are not pudgy. Pudgy is...is...” He beckoned me near and whispered, “Do you see that fine lady over there on other side of the room, next to the window where we sat last week?”
The lady, around sixty, had grey hair cut in a bob that bounced around her plump cheeks. Completely the wrong hairstyle for her round face. She kept her bag on her lap, as if to conceal the rolls of fat that stretched her blouse. Calum had always taken great delight in pointing out overweight women, nudging me to indicate why I shouldn’t eat chocolate. I used to irritate him by immediately poking around in my bag for the M&M’s I kept there. A bag had laid unopened for an entire week now.
A young mother and her son walked through the room, blocking our view of the lady. “I think she looks comfortable,” I commented. “Like a grandmother should.”
His gaze roved over me, lingering where the top button of my cream blouse preserved my modesty. My cheeks grew hot, and I fought the urge to check if it had come undone. I had come undone. He affected me like nobody else ever had. I sipped more coffee, cross with the perverseness of life. If I had met him two weeks ago, maybe he would not have agreed to the blind date. Heck, maybe he would have gone with me. I scowled at my coffee. I needed something stronger.
Rain pelted against the windows. The inside of the coffee house had turned from a public meeting point to something much more intimate as we sat side-by-side, both involved in our own thoughts. I scooped up the remaining foam around the edge of the cup and wondered what he was thinking. His face was turned away toward the other occupants of the room, so I leaned forward to catch his profile.
A long nose. Lower lip fuller than the upper. His eyes, or rather eye, fascinated me. Instead of staying still as though looking inward, his gaze danced all over the room, alighting first on this person, then that object. I don’t know if he saw anything.
People clattered up the stairs and pushed past our table, wet jackets and umbrellas leaving an aroma of wet wool and a trail of water droplets behind.
“Are you going to see Becca again?”
He shifted in his chair and studied me, eyes gleaming. “Are you jealous?”
“Of Becca? No. Of you? Maybe, if Becca is as wonderful as you say.”
All sorts of expressions flitted across his face. Confusion. Surprise. Disbelief. I struggled not to laugh.
“You...you’re not...no, of course you’re not.” He pulled at his lip. “Are you?”
“No! But it was worth it to see your face.”
He gave me a long, slow smile. “My turn. Tell me about your last date.”
I mulled this over. Should I mention my last proper date, or the last time Calum had turned up at my place to stay the night?
He squinted at me. “That long?”
I decided. “Two weeks ago.”
“And? How was it?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“He talked about himself the whole time.” It was true, I realised.
“I hope that was your only date with him.”
“We had a few dates, but then I met somebody else.” I stood to go, fumbling with my bag to keep my face down. My purple cardigan fell from the back of the chair, and he picked it up and held it for me to shrug into.
“Same time next week? Then you can tell me all about this new man of yours.”
His breath warmed a spot just below my earlobe. I shivered. “I have a meeting next Thursday.”
“All day?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “No. I must travel to Sheffield, and I won’t be back until late.”
“Sheffield?” He looked appalled. “That’s hundreds of miles. You’re not going to do that in a day, there and back?”
“No, I’ll stay in a hotel the night before.”
“Which hotel?” He winked. “You will need someone to carry your suitcase up the stairs.”
I prodded him gently in the chest to make him move out of the way. “I am not one of those women who need a giant suitcase for one night.”
“I remember.” He indicated for me to precede him down the stairs. “You’re different from all the other women I know.”
~ * ~
I did not realise that not seeing him for two weeks meant barely eating, barely sleeping...and an odd silence in my life. Somehow, I got through my meeting with our best customer, despite my momentary lapse of attention. With my hands tight around the steering wheel, the drive back from Sheffield passed in a blur of images and snatches of remembered conversation. I hardly know how I got home.
There was a queue in the coffee house. I edged my way in and placed my order.
“You’ve lost weight.”
His voice, disgruntled and faintly reproving, drifted over my head. I smoothed the fabric of my favourite clingy dress, one I had not fit into for over two years. Butterflies knotted my stomach. I could feel the warmth of his body. My skin bumped all over. The temptation to press myself into him overwhelmed me. I dared not turn. “I forget to eat when I travel.”
“Then I must travel with you. As a doctor, it’s my duty to prevent people from dying.”
I burst out laughing. “I won’t die because I lost a little excess weight. Excess weight,” I emphasised.
I took the tray with our coffees and started up the stairs, convinced his eyes were glued to my bottom. I gave an extra wiggle. “When I’m on the road, I can’t stand the thought of pre-wrapped sandwiches or a quick greasy b
urger or...” I reached the top and turned.
He was not behind me. A lanky kid stood two steps down. Mortified that he was still staring at where my bottom had been, I glared at him and moved aside. The kid, a young guy in his mid to late teens, flushed and skittered off to his buddies in the corner. A second later, I heard a roar of laughter. I sucked in my belly as far as I could, straightened my shoulders and pretended I was a supermodel.
I peered down the stairs. Where was he? Had he taken fright at my vividly flowered dress and then taken flight?
He appeared at the bottom, waving a bag of mini muffins. “I thought you needed these.”
“I happen to be quite pleased with my current physical state,” I called.
Another snort of laughter from the kiddie corner. Enough. Ignoring the stares of three pimply youths, I set the tray down on our usual table near the window and then rummaged in my bag. Surely there must be one still in here from way back when. Ah ha.
I marched over to the pimply table and threw an ancient condom packet at the boy who had ogled my backside. “You dropped this on the stairs.” I stalked back to my table, amid protests of innocence and roars of laughter.
One sugar in my coffee this time. I fingered the packet thoughtfully and wondered if I dare attempt cold turkey. It would mean enduring the taste of coffee, though, and I wasn’t ready for that quite yet.
“What were you doing over there?” He plonked himself down. “Decided I’m too old for you or something?”
“Or something.” I grinned when he tut-tutted.
“Muffin?” He opened the bag and wafted it under my nose.
They smelled good. Double chocolate chip or vanilla and raspberry. Cruel. With a great effort, I shook my head.
He pulled a face. “If this is the effect I have on you, I must stop seeing you, or else you’ll disappear entirely.”
“Not much chance of that.” I poked my stomach. One roll when I sat. Not too bad. I had never been one of those women who had a flat belly, especially when seated. It had been the bane of my life when I was younger; now I knew better. Where was the fun in maintaining a flat belly? I liked chocolate and cake and ice cream.
“Ben and Jerry’s?”
I shot him a suspicious look. “How did you know?”
He whistled a short tune before answering. “Well, if a woman is thinking about her weight—as you clearly were—then she will also likely be thinking about where she can cut back. Which naturally leads to chocolate and ice cream. So, how was your meeting?”
Well, that was a non sequitur if ever there was one. “You want to talk about work?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, I don’t really want to talk about work, but it occurs to me that I have no idea what you do. For all I know, you could be the nasty boss I never see, my electricity meter reader, or worse, work for the tax office.”
“Tax office?” I spluttered and grabbed a napkin to wipe my chin. “I have no idea how to read electricity meters, and I doubt I’m your boss. I would have fired you by now.”
His face took on a hurt expression. “I happen to be a very good doctor.”
I lifted my spoon out of the cup and stared at the drops of coffee dripping from it. Dripping drops. Almost sounded like a curse. DRIPPING DROPS.
The Suit with the long hair passed by our table and gave me a brief smile. The same citrus scent. Today, though, it made my nose wrinkle.
I inhaled the nutty aroma from my cup and swallowed some coffee. Like more caffeine would help my skittering heartbeat, but at least I was with a doctor.
“Speaking of doctoring,” he went on, “I had a guy come in the ER the other week with a bleeding hand. He’d cut himself on a kitchen knife. Said he’d come with his girlfriend but she’d abandoned him at the hospital. In his hour of need.”
I almost dropped the cup. My hands tightened around it instead, the warmth comforting. It was about time I told him about Calum. Besides, I had split with him that Thursday when I saw him with the girl whose name I refuse to mention.
“You will laugh.” He popped a chocolate mini-muffin in his mouth and winked. “Seeing as you’re off chocolate, you won’t mind if I eat them. Anyway, this guy droned on about how his girlfriend forced him to eat his least favourite meal and had accused him of sleeping with another woman. He seemed to find his woes of paramount interest. I nearly fell asleep.”
I hid my face behind my cup.
“Fortunately,” he went on, “a screaming kid came in and I fled. The only reason I mention it is because he sounded similar to the guy you dated. The one who talked only of himself. Seem to be more of those guys around than I thought.” He pursed his lips and then prodded my bare knee. “I thought you’d find it amusing, yet you’re frowning. You only had a couple of dates with the jerk, right?”
I sighed. “His name’s Calum. I’m not with him anymore, but we were together for two years.”
He drained his coffee and shoved another muffin in his mouth. Exposed under his scrutiny, I rummaged in my bag for my lip balm.
“Two years constitutes a lot more than a few dates. Calum seemed to think you were still his girlfriend two weeks ago in the hospital.”
“He tends to ignore what’s not convenient for him.” I smeared balm over my lips and dropped it back in the bag. “I was a convenience for him, only I was too stupid to see it.”
He snapped his fingers. “That’s why you had that look on your face the first time we met. Something happened that day, didn’t it?”
“I saw him with someone else. A supposed friend of mine. She must have been at least eight months pregnant.” I stared out the window, rage and pain burning like acid in my belly. Calum had rubbed her bump. He had never shown me such affection. “If I had told you about Calum, would you still have wanted to meet me for coffee the week after we met?”
“Of course.” He toyed with the spoon, twirling it like a baton between his fingers. “I like you. I think we can be good friends, and it’s better to clear these things up first. Why do you think I told you I had a blind date? It wasn’t just to get a reaction; it was to let you know where you stood.”
“And where do I stand now?
“Oh, you’re not standing, you’re sitting.” He sucked in a breath. “I would say pretty comfortably, too.”
I sipped coffee, trying to work out whether he spoke literally or figuratively. Maybe both.
He chuckled. “I wish I had known that guy was your boyfriend. I could have had a good laugh at his expense in the hospital. Told him he had blood poisoning and was dying.”
My smile widened. “Calum would have insisted you cut off a limb or something.”
He gathered cups and debris onto the tray. “I would have told him the truth, eventually. You never know, it may have changed him for the better.” The clinking stopped. “What on earth were you doing with him, anyway? You’re a dreamer, and he seems more nightmare than dream. The kind of guy that always blames others when something goes wrong, or wants everything his way.” He scowled. “Do you have some kind of masochistic desire to live in misery? Is that why you chose to be with someone who makes you unhappy?”
My immediate reaction was to laugh off his words, yet something clicked. “Maybe.” I rubbed my finger. It no longer felt naked without a ring. So convinced Calum would propose, I had gone to a jeweller and tried on diamond rings. My favourite was still a simple solitaire but I knew, deep in that place where truth lies, that Calum would have wanted a huge, ostentatious monstrosity.
A weight lifted from my shoulders. I no longer had to please him, no longer had to wear clothes I hated or cook food only he liked. I was free. My shoulders relaxed into the back of the seat, easing an ache I hadn’t noticed before.
I glanced over and wondered. How much of my inner circumspection had he seen?
A satisfied smile quirked the corners of his mouth. “Tell me how you met,” he ordered. “I need to understand your head in this.”
I pulled my skirt down as far as it woul
d go, prepared to humble myself. “Guys have never fallen over themselves for my attention. So when this handsome guy in a bar asked me out on a date, I was horrified and delighted at the same time. Horrified because I thought at first he had mistaken me for one of his harem of females, delighted when he spent the rest of the evening by my side and afterwards drove me home.”
“You had no idea he was cheating on you?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “There were odd things, I suppose, like when he changed the password on his phone and didn’t give me the new one.” I took a breath. “I chose to overlook these because I thought he was what I wanted. I thought he might change, thought I should make more of an effort. I was lazy, I suppose. Didn’t want to upset the applecart.”
He pegged his nose with his fingers. “Not even when they’re all rotten and stinking?”
“Dig down far enough and you might find one that is still good.”
He nodded understandingly. “How far did you dig?”
“Not very far—I guess I couldn’t stand the smell.” I gave a half laugh and blinked back tears. “You must think me stupid. A fool.”
He shook his head. “Calum is the fool. He couldn’t see the fabulous girl in front of him. Well, his loss is my gain. I have a spare room if you need somewhere to stay.” He gave me a sideways look. “I might be a doctor, but I cannot promise to heal the heart. Do you have a pen?”
I dug in my bag again. “Here. I don’t need anywhere to stay. I appreciate the offer but I have my own place, tiny though it may be.”
He handed me a scrap of paper. Sidney. He hadn’t told me his name until now. The phone number blurred. Just as well I wasn’t standing; my entire life now spun around me. Hope bloomed. My feet itched to dance; my soul opened a shutter and began to sing.
I extracted an old receipt from my bag and wrote my number down on the back and handed it to him. “You see, I do have a phone.” I stood up.
He blocked my path and tipped my chin up with a finger. “You look happy, free,” he said softly. “I’ve never seen your eyes so luminous.” With an embarrassed laugh, he shook his head. “Just as well you don’t want to move in with me, I might not let you leave. Well after that, I’m starving. How about pizza?”
Propose To Me Page 23
