Marry Me: The Proposal Plan / Single Dad, Nurse Bride / Millionaire in Command

‘That’s because you’re a woman and that’s how you’d feel if he proposed to you. Men don’t think like you do. How many times do I have to tell you?’

She decided to shift the subject a little. ‘OK, well, let’s come back to the exact wording of the thing. What about the location? Are you saying it’s fine to invite everyone who knows us as long as I portray myself in the subservient role, caveman style, or am I just better off asking him when it’s just the two of us?’

‘Much as I would be sorry not to witness you playing the role of submissive cavewoman to Ed’s captain caveman, you’ll have far more chance of success if you ask him on his own. If you invite along those Neanderthal football mates that I met, you’ll definitely shoot yourself in the foot. All you’ll achieve is to make him feel pushed into a corner. He can’t say no to you because a) he can’t be seen to be so cruel in public and b) he won’t want to scupper what you’ve set up to be a massive party.’

She shook her head. ‘But that’s good, isn’t it? He will be forced to say yes.’

‘But for all the wrong reasons. If you push him into it you are just as likely for him to backpedal the moment the party’s over. At best he might resent you for putting him on the spot and that’s hardly the best start for a marriage made in heaven, is it?’

She sighed. ‘I suppose not.’ She sipped her coffee moodily. ‘Give me the perfect scenario, then, Einstein, and I’ll try and work with that.’

A frown crossed his face and she saw him rearrange his features to hide it. It was so brief that she almost missed it. She couldn’t place what it meant, but then apparently it meant nothing because he carried on as before.

‘To maximise your chances of a yes, if you’re asking the average man to marry you, you need to look hot as hell and you need to do it somewhere quiet without friends or family present, and last but not least you need to do it before you have sex. Definitely not afterwards.’

Lucy almost choked on her coffee. At the mention of sex from Gabe when she felt so mixed up about him she felt a blush creep up slowly from her neck and fought it with all her might. She took a bite of her sandwich to buy time and steady herself, looking down in the hope that the blush would subside and he wouldn’t notice. When she felt able she spoke in what she hoped was her normal voice.

‘Just as a matter of interest, why not afterwards?’ she ventured. ‘I would have thought that was the perfect time to do it. When you’re all loved up and everything’s wonderful.’

Gabriel patted her hand sympathetically and she felt as if electric shocks raced through her fingers at his touch. The thought struck her abruptly that she wasn’t sure she could remember a time when she’d jumped like that at Ed’s touch, even when they’d first met. She tried to concentrate hard on the conversation.

‘Like I keep saying, Lu, you need to start thinking like a man. Before you’ve had sex you hold all the cards, you have the power, he’ll hang on your every word. Afterwards, if you manage to get him to stay awake, anything you say will seem less important to him than going to sleep. It’s basic biology.’

Lucy made a disgusted face. ‘You lot are emotionally backward,’ she complained.

Gabriel laughed out loud. ‘We’re just different, that’s all. If men thought the same way as women Ed would have asked you to marry him months ago. Don’t you think that makes life seem dull?’

‘No! I think it makes perfect sense!’

Gabriel looked at his watch again and she felt her temper slip a notch.

‘Gabe, what is your problem? You seem to be desperate to avoid me at the moment and it’s getting on my nerves. Is it too much to ask for you to focus for half an hour on one conversation with me?’

He didn’t quite meet her eyes. ‘Just busy, you know,’ he said vaguely. ‘I need to make a move.’ He made as if to stand up, then for some reason he clearly thought better of it and sat back down. He looked flustered and uncomfortable and she was on the brink of asking him why when he leaned in unexpectedly and covered her hand with his. Her heart leapt involuntarily inside her chest and her pulse increased.

‘Lucy, I really think you should reconsider all this, you know,’ he said urgently. Her mouth felt suddenly as dry as sandpaper. Just what was he going to say?

‘What do you mean?’ She tried her best to keep her voice calm, although she felt oddly as if she might start shaking at any moment.

‘I’m your friend, Lucy. I’m going to be totally honest with you. You might not like it but I can’t help that.’

Her heartbeat seemed to be getting louder. She could hear it inside her head.

He looked into her eyes. ‘I think you want to get married and settle down because you didn’t have a settled childhood. You want to build your own little happy ever after. The fact that you’re surrounded by Ed’s mates in a social circle all playing happy families makes you want it even more. I can understand that, but I think you need to be sure it’s what you really want, for the right reasons.’

She looked at him, puzzled. Whatever she’d expected him to say, it wasn’t this. ‘What exactly are you suggesting?’

He took a deep breath. ‘I think you should talk to your parents.’

The words fell on her like rocks. She stood up before she even knew that was what she was going to do. Her chair fell backwards with a clatter at the force of her movement. How could he? How hard it had been to start again without them. After the years she’d spent cutting them painfully out of her life. Managing by herself. And he’d been there through all that. All the times he’d backed her up, given her strength in her conviction that it was the right thing to do, that they would hold her back and drag her back down and that she could make a life for herself, she really could. She was suffused by confusion and cold anger.

She wiped her lips with a trembling hand. ‘I can’t believe you are suggesting I actually talk to them about this. My mother the three-times-wed, most irresponsible, self-centred woman in the universe. My father the lush. Just what the hell makes you think either of them is qualified to advise me on how to successfully live my life?’

‘I’m not saying they are. It just seems to me you’re so hung up on this dream of two-point-four kids and a dog that you’re losing sight of the fact that that doesn’t automatically make you happy. This is because of your parents—any amateur psychologist could see that.’

‘Even if it is, why is that so wrong? With a childhood like mine I certainly know what I’m not going to do and that’s pretty much everything they did!’ Her temper was completely out of control now and she was distantly aware that she was shouting.

Gabriel kept his voice calm and soothing, but to her it just sounded patronising. ‘Lu, you had no security as a kid. That’s why you’re craving it now.’ He opened his mouth to continue but she cut him off.

‘You’ve obviously taken temporary leave of your senses,’ she snapped. She snatched her bag from the floor and then rounded on him. ‘I asked for your help, Gabriel. Your help. All I wanted was some pointers on what might make a guy tick, some ideas on how I might propose in a fun way that Ed would like. I didn’t ask for a critique of my life as I know it and I certainly didn’t expect the suggestion that I undo all the changes I’ve made for the better. After everything they put me through. And everything I’ve done to put it right. You’re meant to be my friend. Some friend!’

‘Lucy…’ His voice was shocked but she ignored it and turned to walk towards the door, leaving him standing at the table looking after her. ‘Lucy, wait!’

She turned back towards him, oblivious to the interested stares from the other customers and the silence that had fallen as they turned to watch and listen. ‘Just stay away from me!’

The door slammed behind her as she stormed from the café.

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_db553118-cb5a-5ede-b231-20a40898941b)

LUCY ignored the ringing telephone and took another batch of cupcakes out of the oven. The little kitchen in her flat was filled with the sweet smell of baking and cooking utensils were balanced on every available surface. Her hair was in an untidy bun on top of her head and the front of her T-shirt was dusted with flour because she couldn’t be bothered to put on an apron. A couple of hours since her argument with Gabriel and at last she felt calm and focused. Cooking always did that for her. If she ever needed to think something over she gravitated to the kitchen. A lucky side-effect of her anger seemed to be heightened creativity. Some of her best cake creations had resulted from the most stressful moments in her life.

She glanced up as her mobile phone beeped and vibrated loudly on the counter with a text message, and she leaned across to turn it off with a jam-covered finger. She didn’t even need to look at it to know it was Gabriel. He had never been able to stand it for long when they had an argument. She, on the other hand, preferred to keep her distance until she calmed down, and depending on the subject of the argument that could be anything from a few hours to a few days.

What he’d said about her parents had really touched a nerve. Her denial that they had anything to do with her desire to settle down was genuine. After all, she hadn’t really interacted with either of them for years now. It hurt, too, that this had come from Gabriel, on whom she had always relied for justification of her actions.

She dripped red food colouring into a bowl of white icing and began to beat it with a wooden spoon. It streaked a lovely shade of pink. She wasn’t an idiot. She’d always known she wanted a proper settled family one day. Her childhood had been so difficult it would be some kind of miracle if it hadn’t shaped the person she was now. It wasn’t so much this that bothered her as Gabriel’s implication that what had happened years ago was the only reason for a decision she was making now. That getting married was the wrong thing for her to do but that she was incapable of seeing it. Why would he say that? Why was he being so horrible, seeming to try everything in his power to put her off the idea?

She began to deftly spread the icing over some heart-shaped shortbreads. Her childhood did affect her decision because it had contributed to who she was. But the reasons she wanted to get married now were present-day reasons, not past ones. Her age, for example. She knew she wanted children and she was nearly thirty. She wanted to get started on that sooner, not later, and she also knew she wanted to be married beforehand. Her work, her financial security—the business had really gained a foothold now; it was doing exceptionally well, far exceeding her expectations. And of course her relationship. She had been happy with Ed for a good length of time now. She knew his bad habits and she knew she could live with them. He wasn’t Mr Perfect, but she honestly believed he was Mr Perfect For Her. He was fundamentally a good man, he was good to her and, very importantly, he supported her business ambitions wholeheartedly, even when she was having success and he was putting up with setbacks. She was just ready to take the next step; it was that simple.

But do you love him, Lucy? Really love him? Yes, she told herself, firmly. That wasn’t up for debate. She squashed the nagging little voice that reminded her she didn’t feel the same depth of passion for Ed as she once had for Gabriel. She was just a kid back then. She knew now there were different kinds of love, and the kind she needed for the life she wanted was the reliable, constant kind, wasn’t it? She refused to let her mind explore what alternative to that there might be.

Yet however hard she tried to stop it her mind kept slipping back to what Gabriel had said. She was unable to brush it aside, put it out of her mind. She worried at it, picked at it. She liked to think she was fully in control of her life now. She was in the driving seat, no one else. If that’s true, then why not talk to your parents and test it? The idea made her heart beat faster and her palms feel clammy, classic signs of nervousness. Slamming the empty icing bowl into the already-full sink, she finally made the decision that had been lurking at the back of her mind for hours now. The only way to prove to herself that she was really and truly her own person, to prove Gabriel wrong, was to talk to one of them. It would have to be her father, she supposed. She had no idea where her mother was except that it was somewhere in Las Vegas. She had her father’s address stashed somewhere and Birmingham was only a few hours away. There was nothing else for it if she was to put the niggling doubts Gabriel had planted behind her.

Gabriel made himself put the telephone down. He’d left three messages now and had sent a couple of texts. She would speak to him when she was ready. She always did. But he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he’d gone too far this time. He’d gone to meet her intent on encouraging her to follow her plans to settle down with Ed. To play the supportive best friend, just as he always did. Certainly not to betray his true feelings for her. But watching her talking about how she could do her best to persuade another guy to marry her had gradually, minute by minute, become unbearable. Ed took her for granted and patently didn’t deserve her. If he did he would have married her ages ago.

Gabriel sighed miserably. He’d lost control. There was no other way to describe it. He’d wanted to try and talk her out of it, question her love for Ed, persuade her she was making a mistake, but he hadn’t quite dared. He was too afraid of what she might say, that it would be something he didn’t want to hear. And so instead he’d hit her below the belt. He had mentioned her parents for no other reason than to selfishly put a damp cloth over her excitement at the prospect of proposing. In doing so he hadn’t considered for a second how she might feel about him throwing her family into the mix. He could kick himself. He’d been there throughout her childhood. He’d dried her tears when she’d run to the manor house to escape the rows. He’d dressed the cuts on her hand that time when she’d hurt herself cleaning up a broken bottle after one of the more physical arguments. She’d been just a kid at the time. What the hell had he been thinking dragging all that back up for her again?

He desperately wanted to go to her and apologise, make things right. But knowing her as well as he did, he knew there was no point trying to force her to talk until she was ready. He had to go to an important client meeting but he found it impossible to follow properly what was said. His mind was consumed by Lucy.

‘Would you mind waiting? I won’t be long.’ Lucy leaned forward and spoke to the taxi driver before climbing out of the cab. She surveyed the house on the opposite side of the street. A tiny nondescript terrace in a nondescript street. She briefly checked the slip of paper in her hand. This was it; this was the place. His place. Her palms felt hot and clammy and she unconsciously rubbed them slowly against her coat as she walked towards the grimy front door. To knock or not to knock, that was the question.

Before she could back out, she raised her knuckles and knocked. Then knocked again, loudly.

He isn’t home. Let’s just get back to Bath, Lucy. Bad idea.

She banged this time with her fist and, bending to open the letterbox, called out, ‘Dad!’ for good measure. She could see through it into a dingy-looking hall with a brown carpet.

At last a shuffling sound could be heard and a shadow loomed behind the frosted glass of the front door. She caught her breath as the latch rattled and then as the door swung open her heart began hammering in her chest. And there he was. Old now and grey, with a few days’ scruffy growth of white stubble and unkempt clothes. Her father. Not quite what she’d prepared herself for. In her mind she’d built him up to be some kind of monster, but this was the reality. A pitiful, scruffy old man. A stale smell drifted from the hallway behind him.