“A month?” I asked.
She took a sip from her wine glass. “Yeah. You’ve got a month to work out what you want.”
“What? I have a month to work out if I want to marry you?” I asked.
“Yes, we have to put a time frame on this or . . .”
“And if I decide I don’t want to get married?”
“I don’t know.” She sounded tired. “I guess that’s it. These things are important to me. It’s what I want from my life, a family, and if you can’t give that to me then . . .”
She didn’t have to finish. I understood. I had a month until my life changed forever, whatever decision I made.
Ashleigh
Richard looked at me across the table, his eyes narrowing slightly. We were in his favorite French restaurant. It was a little masculine for my taste—dark, with oak paneling and almost black wood floors—but Richard was greeted like an old friend here, which he liked. The waiters fussed over us and nothing was too much trouble. Sometimes it felt as if we were dining with the staff as well as each other.
“It was nice to meet Luke,” he finally said.
I’d been waiting for him to mention our run in. Had he seen us holding hands? I nodded and took another spoonful of my soup to avoid responding to him.
“I didn’t realize you were meeting him for lunch.”
I swallowed. Was he pissed off? “It was a last minute thing. Haven, Luke and I all grew up together. I told you that.”
“Yeah. You’re still very close,” he said.
I wasn’t sure if it was a question or an observation, so I kept silent, concentrating on my soup.
“It’s nice,” he added.
“It is. We’re like a little family.”
He nodded and smiled a wide, generous smile. He wasn’t jealous, apparently. He seemed to like whatever made me happy. He wanted what was good for me and that felt nice, healthy.
“How was work?”
“Good. I’m getting used to things now.” Richard hadn’t been at the hospital I worked at long. “Megan’s been showing me the ropes.”
“Megan?” I asked.
“Yeah, Megan Fable.” He rolled his eyes and grinned.
Yeah, I bet she was. Megan was a notorious flirt and desperate to land a doctor. She had no end of male attention, but somehow she’d never managed to get serious with anyone.
“That’s good,” I said. “I’m glad you’re settling in.”
“She’s a bit of a flirt. I mean, wow.”
I laughed. “A little bit.”
“She’s a pretty girl, but not my type.”
I realized he was heading off any jealousy I might have if I found out they were working together. It was a kind thing to do. I smiled at him. “She’s very pretty.”
“Not as pretty as you.”
“Richard.” I wasn’t used to all this flattery.
“What? It’s true. You’re gorgeous.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I blushed. I was as terrible at giving compliments as I was at receiving them.
“Are you playing rugby tomorrow?” I asked, changing the subject. Richard played for the hospital team.
“Yeah and it’s a big night. You can come along if you like.”
I liked watching rugby. Luke used to make Haven and I watch when we were younger, and it wasn’t a hardship seeing all the super-fit men in tight shorts get dirty and sweaty. “And be the only girl amongst you lot? I wouldn’t get out alive.”
“That’s true. One of them would be bound to steal you away from me. I take it back. You can’t come tomorrow.”
I laughed. He was sweet.
“You have a beautiful smile,” he said, grinning at me.
“Thank you,” I replied, trying to be a bit more gracious about his compliment than before.
“Yeah, that dress suits you. But everything looks good on you.” My cheeks started to heat. Partly from his words, and partly because I was embarrassed that I was thinking about Luke saying at lunch that I looked good in everything. Had he meant that? Did he think I was attractive? I hadn’t had much time to change when I got home, so I’d just pulled on the nearest thing and put on some makeup. I never wore makeup to work.
“Are you going to Haven’s on Sunday?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s my turn to cook. We used to alternate venues, but now it’s mainly at Haven and Jake’s because they have such an awesome kitchen. But we still take turns cooking.” I was looking forward to it. I loved to cook desserts, and I had a blueberry cheesecake in mind for tomorrow. I wanted Beth to give me her seal of approval. She was the best baker this side of the Atlantic.
“So if you’re cooking, does that mean you get to invite guests?” he asked.
My stomach lurched. I’d been insensitive to mention it and then not invite him. I just wasn’t sure I was ready. Luke would probably want to talk about Emma, and I wasn’t sure how that would affect me. If he announced that he was going to marry her, I was pretty sure I would want to excuse myself and take to my bed for a week. Having Richard there would . . . complicate things.
And anyway, it felt too early. Haven’s husband, Jake, had started coming to Sunday night dinners very quickly, but normally, casual boyfriends and girlfriends didn’t make an appearance. There wasn’t any rule about it, but that’s how it had always been. “I think Haven has some stuff going on that she wants to talk about, so I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to come along tomorrow. Maybe another time?”
“I’d like to meet your friends,” he said. “Perhaps we could have them over to your place one Sunday. I could help you cook.”
I nodded and concentrated on pulling apart my bread.
“What about next weekend?” he asked.
“I don’t think it’s happening. Haven’s away, I think.” I was lying, and I wasn’t quite sure why. All I knew was I wasn’t ready to introduce him to my family yet.
“Okay, so we should go away for a weekend then. Maybe the Lake District?” he asked.
“That sounds really nice.” I meant it. I did like Richard, and I enjoyed spending time with him. He was kind and attentive, and he liked me. Maybe a little distance from London and Luke would be what I needed.
Luke
“Did I interrupt anything?” I asked Haven as she opened the door to her flat. I’d arrived early for Sunday dinner. I wanted to speak to her about Emma.
“No, just honeymooners having wild sex on every surface. That’s all.”
“Lalalala,” I sang as I covered my ears, following her down the hallway. “Stop it. Or I’m not going to be able to look at you, and we need to talk. Have you got a beer?” I asked as we stepped into the kitchen. I headed straight to the fridge. I rarely talked about relationship stuff with anyone. It had been more difficult to talk to Ash than I’d expected, though our brief discussion had helped. I now knew I couldn’t marry Emma just to keep her happy, as Ash had suggested. I had to want it. Hopefully, alcohol would help my words come easier.
“There are a few different kinds in there. I think Jake got you the one you like,” Haven said, stirring something in a bowl. Another good thing about my sister being married was that there was always beer at her place now. “I’m doing cheese straws.”
I took the lid off my drink and slumped onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “Do you want a hand?” I asked.
“Ash is cooking. This is just for fun. You concentrate on telling me what’s going on with you and Emma.”
I drew my brows together. “How do you know I want to talk about me and Emma?”
“Because I’m psychic,” she replied. “And I know you. I know how you get when you’re unhappy.”
I scowled but she wasn’t looking, too focused on the pan in front of her. “You think I’m unhappy?”
“Are you telling me you’re not?”
I thought about it. How long did she think I’d been unhappy for? This was news to me. Before Emma voiced her desire to move things on in our relationship, I’d never seen us as unhappy together; I’d not thought I was miserable.