Promised
Page 51

 Jodi Ellen Malpas

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
‘Baby girl, you’d better stop right now or there will be trouble!’
I halt dead in my tracks, knowing that I’m already in trouble, and wait for him to catch up to me. ‘Morning!’ My overenthusiastic greeting isn’t going to wash, and when he lands in front of me, his handsome face distorted with displeasure, I can’t help scowling back. ‘What?’ I snap, making him jump back in shock. I feel irritated with my best friend, yet I have absolutely no right to be. It’s Friday, but he’s in ripped jeans and a tight T-shirt, and he’s wearing a baseball cap. Where are his gardening clothes?
‘Don’t what me!’ he snaps right back. ‘What happened to staying away?’
‘I tried!’ I screech. ‘I bloody tried, but we bumped into him in Harrods and Nan invited him to bloody dinner!’
Gregory jumps back some more, stunned by my unusual outburst, but his chiselled, scowling face softens. ‘You didn’t have to leave with him, though,’ he points out softly. ‘And you definitely didn’t have to stay at his place.’
‘Well I did, and I bloody wish I hadn’t.’
‘Ahh, Livy.’ He steps forward and wraps me in his arms. ‘You should have answered my calls.’
‘So you could just tell me off?’ I mumble into his T-shirt. ‘I already know that I’m an idiot. I don’t need it confirmed.’
‘It near on killed me to see Nan so excited,’ he says on a sigh. ‘Shit, Livy, she was ready to go and buy a hat.’
I laugh because if I didn’t, I’d cry. ‘Please don’t. I can’t take it much more, Gregory. He only sat at her dinner table for an hour or two. She was gushing all over him, and now she’s all confused and wondering why I’m not seeing him.’
‘Cocksucker.’
‘I keep telling you, you’re the only cocksucker I know.’ I feel him laugh a little, but when he pulls me from his chest, his face is serious.
‘Why did you leave with him?’ he asks.
‘I can’t say no when he’s with me,’ I sigh sullenly. ‘Things just happen.’
‘But you’ve not seen him all week?’
‘No.’
His blond brows rise. ‘Why not?’
Damn it, I want to say that I walked away off my own back, but Gregory will rumble me in a nanosecond. ‘It was wonderful, and then it was awful. He was sweet, and then he was an arsehole.’ I brace myself. ‘I told him about my mum.’
I can see the surprise on Gregory’s face, and there is definitely a bit of hurt mixed in there, too. He knows that I absolutely never speak of her, not even with him, and I know he wishes I did. He collects himself and forces the hurt plaguing his face to morph into contempt. ‘Cocksucker,’ he spits. ‘Complete knob-head. You need to be stronger, baby girl. A sweet thing like you will be walked all over by a man like that.’

My nostrils flare and I bite my tongue to prevent my natural reaction to that statement from slipping past my lips. And fail. ‘Oh, bollocks to the lot of you,’ I grumble, making him recoil in shock. I push past him and stomp off down the street.
‘See, that’s what I want more of. A little spunk!’
‘Fuck off!’ I yell, shocking myself with my vulgar language.
‘Ooh, yes, carry on, you filthy-mouthed bitch!’
I gasp and swing around, finding him grinning from ear to ear. ‘Wanker.’
‘Cow.’
‘Tosser.’
He grins some more. ‘Dog.’
‘Shirt-lifter,’ I retort.
‘Tart.’
I recoil, horrified. ‘I am not a tart!’
He pales instantly, realising his mistake. ‘Shit, Livy, I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t bother!’ I storm off, my blood boiling with rage at his insensitive, careless remark. ‘And don’t follow me, Gregory!’
‘Ahhhh, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.’ He scoops me up, preventing me from running away. ‘A stupid word slipped.’ He walks on with me draped across his arms, and I reach up and pull his hair. ‘Twat.’
Grinning, he leans down and kisses my cheek. ‘I had a date last Sunday.’
‘Another?’ I roll my eyes and firm up my grip of his shoulders. ‘Who’s the lucky guy this time?’
‘Actually, it was our fourth date. His name’s Ben.’ A thoughtful, dreamy look washes over Gregory’s face, making me pay more attention. It’s been a few years since he’s had this look.
‘And . . .’ I push, wondering how he managed to keep four dates with the same man quiet. I can’t challenge him on it, though. Not after my lack of sharing.
‘He’s cute. I might like you to meet him.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. He’s a freelance events planner. I’ve told him all about you, and he’d like to meet you.’
‘Oh?’ I tilt my head, and he gives me a shy smile. ‘Ohhhh . . .’ I breathe.
‘Yes, ohhhhh.’
‘Benjamin?’
‘Nooo.’ He narrows playful eyes, continuing with his even strides down the street with me still bobbing up and down in his arms. ‘Just Ben will do.’
‘Benjamin and Gregory,’ I muse thoughtfully. ‘It has a nice ring to it.’
‘Ben and Greg sounds much better. Why do you insist on calling me Gregory? Even Nan does it. It makes me sound like a poofter,’ he grumbles.
‘You are a poofter!’ I laugh, getting a set of teeth sunk into my neck for my trouble. ‘Stop it!’
‘Come on.’ He sets me on my feet and links arms with me. ‘Let’s get your sweet arse to work.’
‘Aren’t you working today?’
‘Nope. I finished my recent project early, and I have a haircut.’
‘Oh yeah?’ I grin up at him. ‘A whole day off work for a haircut?’
‘Shut up. I told you. I finished my project early.’
I smile, wondering why I’ve alienated myself from my treasured Gregory all week. I feel a million times better already.
Chapter 14
No one at work actually asks me if I’m all right because it’s obvious that I am. Or are they just stunned into silence by my chirpiness? Am I being over the top? I don’t even care. Gregory has lifted my spirits. I should’ve seen him earlier in the week.
‘Service!’ Paul yells, prompting me to skip over with my tray, ready to be loaded up. ‘What are you all smiley about?’ he laughs, sliding a Tuna Crunch onto my tray.
Sylvie dumps a load of empties nearby and joins us by the hotplates. ‘Don’t question it, Paul. Just embrace it.’
‘It’s Friday.’ I shrug, twirling and sashaying out of the kitchen with a smile on my face. As I approach the table, I’m confronted with a huge beam, courtesy of Mr Wide-Eyed Luke. My good mood prevents me from being anything but polite, and I find myself smiling back at him. ‘Tuna Crunch?’
‘That’s me,’ he pipes up as I slide it onto the table. ‘You look especially lovely today.’
I roll my eyes, but I’m still smiling. ‘Thank you. Can I get you another drink?’