by Holly Martin
‘I feel so tired. Kat’s the one that did all the hard work, but I’m knackered,’ she said.
He nodded and threw himself down, sprawling out on his sofa. ‘I know what you mean. Who would have thought standing and worrying could be so much hard work…’
To his utmost surprise, Libby, without a moment’s hesitation, climbed onto the sofa and took her normal position of lying with her head on his chest.
It had been an automatic thing, almost instinctive. She hadn’t thought about it, or asked him if it was OK, it was just this need to cuddle up to him. The angst of the previous few days was completely forgotten. For now at least.
He put his arm round her shoulders, as she shifted closer to him to get comfortable.
Her hand moved to the back of his neck, fingering his curls.
‘Your hair’s getting long,’ she mumbled sleepily, into the side of his neck.
‘Yeah I know, I’ll have to get it cut soon.’ That was another thing Cerys had brought up the other night, how tatty his hair was.
‘I like it, it’s wild and rugged and sexy.’
Right then and there, he vowed never to get it cut ever again. Reciprocating Libby’s gesture, he stroked her hair. It was like satin.
He closed his eyes, feeling her breathing become deeper as he drifted off.
* * *
George woke later and his heart nearly ripped open at the feeling of having Libby in his arms, where she belonged. He couldn’t let her leave.
Libby stirred slightly in his arms, pulling herself tighter against him, and opened her eyes blearily to look at him. He felt her sigh contentedly into the side of his neck.
‘I’m sorry about… everything. Giselle and… everything I said,’ Libby fumbled over her apology, though in reality she had nothing to be sorry for. ‘I want you to be happy and—’
‘Come to the ball with me tonight,’ he blurted out.
She shook her head. ‘You should go with Giselle, that’s not fair on her to go with me.’
‘You’re leaving tomorrow. This will be our last night together.’
Libby didn’t say anything as she clearly thought about it.
‘Look, I’ll even dance with you, you can’t say fairer than that?’
Libby smiled weakly and finally nodded. ‘OK.’
George had one more night with her and he had to make it count.
Chapter Twenty
George knocked on the door of Libby’s flat, finding himself more nervous than he had ever been in his life. This night mattered and his other dates paled in significance. She opened the door wrapped up in a long black woollen coat and wellies. Her hair was swept up in a plait that circled her head like a halo. Her gorgeous green eyes were topped with sparkly emerald eye shadow. She appraised him in his tuxedo and her face split into a smile.
‘You look fantastic, George.’
‘So do you, really beautiful.’
She looked down at herself in confusion. ‘I’m wearing a coat and wellies.’
‘You’ve always looked beautiful to me.’
Her smile grew and she stepped forward to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Giselle is a very lucky woman.’
George offered his arm and escorted her out. It wasn’t a long walk up to the ball from where they lived, five minutes on a normal day, maybe slightly longer today because of the snow, but he had help for part of the journey.
Silver Cove beach glistened under its sparkling blanket as they walked along the deserted road towards the headland where the marquee was twinkling in the darkness. It was protected by the cliffs in its position nestled snugly halfway up the hill and with all the houses in complete darkness and even the pub closed for one night only, it was the only spark of light in the darkness, welcoming them in.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to take Giselle instead? It’s not too late to change your mind.’
‘I was never going out with Giselle.’
Libby looked at him in shock. ‘But… what?’
George was silent as they started up the little path that led up the hill towards the marquee, which at some point had been cleared of most of the snow.
‘But this is what we were practising for,’ Libby pushed.
‘We were practising to help me back into the world of dating again, but more than that, to help me feel confident in my own skin. We’ve done that. You’ve done that. Not only do I feel brave enough to date, but I feel for the first time that I’m ready for marriage again too.’
‘So I don’t understand why you didn’t ask her out, she was the woman of your dreams.’
Libby was staring at him and he was thankful for that as she hadn’t seen what was just ahead of them.
He gestured with his head, indicating the two reindeers and the sled that was waiting for them.
She turned and gasped, Giselle momentarily forgotten. ‘Is this for us?’
George nodded and helped her aboard, covering them both with a thick blanket. A bottle of champagne and two flute glasses rested in a bucket of ice. He leaned forward and poured two glasses, handing one to Libby as the sled rocked gently into motion, sliding gracefully across the snow towards the marquee.
She stared at him in confusion as he settled himself back under the blanket. She hadn’t touched the champagne.
‘I should have told you yesterday on the beach but I wanted it to be special, I wanted to give you all the bells and whistles that you wanted and instead I ended up hurting you. I wanted the perfect end to our dates tonight, Lib.’ He took a steadying sip of the champagne, the bubbles dancing on his tongue. ‘Giselle isn’t the woman of my dreams, you are. It’s always been you, ever since the first moment I saw you. Libby Joseph, I love you.’
* * *
Libby stared at him in shock. The night sky made a stunning backdrop behind him, the stars twinkling down on them. The snow looked magical and she was on a sleigh pulled by two reindeer. It couldn’t get any more sweepingly romantic than this. And her best friend was telling her that he loved her. This was everything she ever wanted. But none of it made sense.
‘But… you never said anything before.’
‘I didn’t think you felt that way at all – you were leaving, what was the point?’
‘But what about Cerys, how could you be with her when you were in love with me?’
‘You were telling me my date with Cerys would be a good thing, that even if she wasn’t the one I wanted to be with the rest of my life, it would be good to go on an actual date again. That confused the hell out of me. Surely you couldn’t possibly have feelings for me if you were pushing me into the arms of another woman. But then that kiss…’
‘I didn’t mean it. I was in love with you, I was trying to be supportive. And then you went and kissed her and tried to have sex with her. It was only the sheer amount of alcohol you’d drunk that stopped that from happening.’
Libby was angry at him and she didn’t know why. Hell, she did know why. They had wasted six months dancing around their emotions when they could have been together. He had hurt her by going out with other people when actually he was in love with her all this time.
‘No, it wasn’t the alcohol. I stopped her because I wanted to be with you, because if I couldn’t have you then I didn’t want anyone else. Don’t you see, I couldn’t ask you out because you were the only one that mattered?’
‘I’m just the easy option, aren’t I? There’s no effort at all being involved with me. I’m the sweet but predictable taste of chocolate. You said so yourself.’
A polite cough from the driver of the sleigh reminded Libby that they weren’t alone.
‘White chocolate,’ George corrected. ‘My favourite thing in the whole world.’
Libby stalled.
‘I don’t want to be with you because you’re the easy option. I want to be with you because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I love the way you dress, your quirky style. I love that you bite your lip when you think. I love that you have so much spiri
t, that you seem to grab life by the horns, that you will try anything. I love that you choose something different every time we go for an Indian. I love that you love the rain as much as the sun. I love that you ride a motorbike, I love that you love my mum. I love that you are the perfect height for me, just the right height to wrap my arms around you, that when you hug me, your mouth is level with my neck, and your breath on my neck is one of the best feelings in the world. I love that when I kiss you, it’s like fireworks exploding in my heart, in my veins, I love the feel of your silky skin, I love the way you smell. I love you.’
Libby stared at him. ‘But you asked out Giselle. I saw you ask her out. You went to the pub together last night. I saw you kiss her on the cheek.’
‘No. I asked her to help me tonight with this. She makes sweets. I asked her for some fudge as I know it’s your favourite thing and I told her my plans for tonight and then she was helping me come up with some ideas. She was going to escort you to the ball and we had a big plan but most of it was ruined by the snow.’
He passed her a small gold box and she stared at it in confusion. In exasperation he opened it up for her and inside she could see several pieces of fudge.
‘Some of these are rum and raisin, your favourite, some are cherry flavoured to remind you of our night at The Cherry Tree, some are champagne flavoured to mark our champagne picnic on the islands, some are mince pie flavoured to mark our third date making mince pies and… these are ice cream flavoured which was the closest I could get to something to represent our sledging date.’
Fireworks suddenly exploded in the night sky.
‘They’re for you,’ George mumbled, thoroughly dejected now.
She looked up at the ribbons of gold scarlet and green as they sparkled and fizzed through the night sky.
Suddenly out of some nearby bushes leapt four men dressed in red and white stripy jackets and straw boater hats. They started singing a very strange, almost comical version of ‘My Heart Will Go On’ by Celine Dion, the song George always sang at the top of his lungs every time they watched Titanic. This is what they had joked about when she’d said she wanted the all-singing, all-dancing kind of love.
‘Oh God, George, you’ve gone to so much trouble.’
The barbershop quartet started bobbing up and down as they walked alongside the sleigh, clicking their fingers. Libby wanted to laugh and cry all at once. This was utterly ridiculous. As they reached their crescendo one of them handed her a bouquet of flowers.
She should be throwing herself into George’s arms with this wonderful declaration of love but her brain was still trying to process what had happened. They had been practising for Giselle and all this time George had been in love with her.
George was obviously disappointed with her reaction too.
The sleigh stopped round the back of the marquee right next to a huge ice carving of a diamond ring.
‘I was going to ask you to marry me, but let’s skip that part,’ George said, getting out the sleigh and walking off towards the entrance of the marquee.
Shit! Shit, shit, shit.
This wasn’t the perfect date, this was the perfect proposal, and she had cocked it up spectacularly.
The driver of the sleigh turned to look at her in despair.
‘If a man goes to all that trouble to ask me to marry him, I’d be saying yes and I’m a happily married man.’
‘The man’s an idiot,’ Libby muttered, throwing the flowers and fudge to one side. Untangling herself from the blanket and passing the flute of untouched champagne to the driver, she raced after George to tell him that.
The ball wasn’t what she expected. George had always told her it was a classy affair but it was charmingly sweet with a mix of different sized tables and chairs, oddly shaped table decorations, a buffet of sandwiches and cake and music playing from an iPod. But there was no time to think about any of that, she had to find George.
She cast her eyes around the marquee, spotting Amy being swung round the floor by Seb, who was staring at her as if she was the only woman in the world. She spotted Matt kissing Polly in a darkened corner, Judith dancing with George’s Uncle Bob of all people. George’s mum and dad were dancing too, Sally was chatting with Nick. Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time. She spotted George by the bar looking absolutely gutted. Libby charged over to him.
‘You’re an idiot. You know that, don’t you.’
George nodded then looked away. She grabbed his face and pulled him back to look at her.
‘But I still love you, I think I always have, too. I don’t know why it took all these dates for me to realise it. I think I was just good at suppressing it because you didn’t feel the same way, because I was leaving and I never wanted to stay in one place, but you changed all that. You’re the funniest, kindest, sweetest, most beautiful person I know and I love you, with everything I have.’
He stared at her in shock then pulled her in for the biggest hug, clinging on to her as he curled himself around her.
She hadn’t found her home in White Cliff Bay, she had found her home with him and she was finally where she belonged.
He pulled away slightly. ‘But you’re leaving?’
Libby shook her head. ‘Not any more. It was silly of me to leave because of you when I had already made up my mind to stay. I love it here but I love you more.’
He bent to kiss her and she held him tight against her, never wanting to let him go.
The heat of him and his wonderful tangy scent surrounded her. Flashes from the night they had kissed in her bed filled her mind and she suddenly wanted that more than anything.
She pulled away slightly and looked around the room. She loved these people and this town but she loved George more than anything else.
‘Let’s go home.’
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘But we’ve just got here. I promised you a dance.’
‘I don’t need any of this, the fireworks, the reindeer sleigh ride and the champagne. I just need you.’
He blinked in confusion.
‘No more pretence, no more lies or confusion. The first time we can properly be together and we’re surrounded by the whole town. Let’s go home.’
His face cleared with understanding and he grabbed her hand and marched out. She giggled as she followed him.
As they broke into the cold night again, George picked up speed. He ran straight past the reindeer-led sleigh, obviously knowing the journey would be too slow, and across the path that led along the headland and down the hillside onto Silver Cove beach. He stopped to pull her into his arms and kissed her hard. It was everything it was meant to be, his taste, his smell, the way his tongue slid against hers was hugely erotic. God, she loved this man. She loved everything about him. And she was going to marry him. She let out a giggle of excitement against his lips.
He pulled back slightly. ‘What?’
‘I was just thinking how ridiculously in love I am with you.’
‘That’s good.’ He was already pulling her along the beach towards their flats.
‘When we get married, George, will we live at your place or mine?’
‘Mine. It would take too long to move my huge collection of Christmas decorations to yours.’
‘Fair point.’
They fell through the door of his flat, kissing and pulling at clothes. George’s tuxedo jacket came off and George started tackling her coat in between desperate urgent kisses. He finally peeled it apart.
‘Oh, nice dress,’ he admired her green velvety halterneck affair.
‘The back is better.’
He looked surprised. ‘Why would you wear a dress that has a nicer back than the front?’
Libby laughed and shrugged out of her coat, then turned round so she was facing the wall. She heard a soft moan from George as he took in her completely backless dress.
His voice was coarse when he spoke. ‘I see what you mean.’ He bent over, planting a soft kiss at the very base of her spine as he t
railed tiny kisses up her back, causing her whole body to erupt in goosebumps. He reached the base of her neck and undid the clasp that held the dress together.
She turned back and let the dress slither to the floor, so she was only standing in her tights, knickers and wellies. Damn it, there was nothing sexy about this and if she had thought there was going to be a chance of sex with the man she loved at the end of the night she would have thought more carefully about her underwear, maybe even worn stockings. But George seemed to not care about her tights and wellies as he moved back towards her, kissing her hard, pinning her to the wall with his weight, and she could feel how turned on he was.
He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around him as the kiss continued.
‘Wait,’ Libby giggled, utterly delighted with the way this evening had turned out. ‘I’m still in my wellies. You can’t make love to me in my wellies.’
‘No, I guess not.’ He carried her to the arm of the sofa and sat her down. He grabbed a welly and gave it a huge tug. It stayed resolutely on her foot. He yanked it some more and it came flying off, hitting one of the life-size deer in the face. ‘Oops, sorry Bambi,’ George muttered as he went for the other welly.
‘You called the deer Bambi?’
He nodded.
‘I frigging love you.’
He grinned, pulling the boot off carefully this time, then he slowly peeled down her knickers and tights until she was completely naked. He, frustratingly, was still completely dressed.
George stood back up and stared at her. When his hands returned to her waist they were shaking.
‘How should we do this? We can go in the bedroom where it’s more romantic, I could light some candles, play some music. What position would you like? We could do it against the wall or…’ He trailed off as she caught his face in her hands.
‘None of that stuff matters. I love you and there is not a single thing you could do now to make this more special. Everything about this is right because it’s you.’
She slid his bow tie off his neck and started undoing the buttons of his shirt. He stalled her hand with his own but she gently removed it, placing kisses on his bare chest after she undid each button. She peeled his shirt open and trailed reverential fingers across his chest and stomach.
