Sexy Hart (Sexy Series) (30 page)

I giggle, “Thank you. Yes, it was wonderful, I’m sad to be back.”

“I bet you are, but excited to get back into the Cakery?” she asks as she walks with me through to the kitchen.

“Yeah, though I’m suffering with the jet lag today so I’ve decided not to go in.”

“And that’s why you’re here? Oliver not going to work either?”

I blink a couple of times, preparing to tell a lie before realising that it’s the truth really, in an evasive kind of way. “Yes, we thought we’d be able to keep each other company and refrain from sleeping this way.”

“Good idea, good idea. Where is he anyway?”

“Oh, he’s in the shower, I think - or getting ready.”

“Okay, I’m only popping in on my way to the post office so I’ll quickly pop up and say ‘hello’.”

I nod and smile before suddenly realising that -
holy shit
, my stuff is up there! His room is filled with my clothes and toiletries! “Oh…” I say, quickly, trying to think of something, “he’ll be down in a minute, why don’t you have a cup of coffee with me while I eat breakfast, fill me in on what you and Edward have been up to while we’ve been away…”

She turns on her way out of the doorway, looking at her watch and smiles, “Um… I’m sure I can go a little later than planned, good idea. He’ll be down to join us any minute no doubt, or his toast will be cold.”

“Exactly,” I say, thanking the Universe for looking out for me, I’d hate for her to find out that something is going on between us by finding my knickers strewn across his bedroom floor.

We sit together at the table and within a couple of minutes, I hear Oliver trotting down the stairs merrily, so before he can make some comment about where his ‘wife’ is - which I can predict, with almost certainty - I shout out to him. “Hey, Oliver! Look who came to see her
favourite boy…”

As he steps into the kitchen, he offers his mum the most handsome, loving smile. “Mum, what a nice surprise.”

She stands up to embrace him and as they do, he looks at me with raised eyebrows as if to say
‘phew! close one!’
.

I point to his ring finger and he quickly slips his band off, behind Emily’s back.

“How was it? Clare says it was fantastic.”

“Yeah, it was great, and you would
love
that baby girl, Mum.”

“Don’t,” she says with her hands clutched at her chest, “I’ve told your father I want to fly over with Bea and Daniel next time, I feel like I have a grandchild that I haven’t met.”

“Well, as good as,” I say, knowing how close we all are to Bea and Oliver’s parents, “and she is named after you, after all.”

“I know!” she says, frowning as if she’s about to cry. “I just couldn’t believe it when Oliver called to tell me, what an absolute
honour.”

“Emily, really - I think Tilly feels it an
honour to be able to call her after you. You’d absolutely adore her though, she’s the tiniest little thing you’ve ever seen.”

“Oh! Do you have any pictures? I can’t bear it! Tilly and Bea sent a few but I need more.”

I realise that my phone is upstairs and I’d rather not have to admit to that, in order to be able to retrieve it, so I make up some codswallop like a deceiving, lying bitch about not knowing where my phone is, and luckily Oliver clocks on, taking his phone from his pocket to show her the few images of the baby that he has.

~~~~~~~

We eat breakfast and thoroughly enjoy Emily’s unexpected company, but she soon departs, having to return to her busy schedule, and I start to clean up the kitchen as Oliver walks her out to her car. I do feel like a hideous, rude, son-trapping whore. How dare I lie to her like that? This woman who has always gone over and above to support and care for me can’t even be respected enough for me to be truthful to. I married her son. The one and only wedding her little boy will ever have has been taken away from her.
Oh dear.
I don’t think this is going to be as plain sailing for my emotions as I had so recently hoped.

“Hey gorgeous girl,” he says, approaching me from behind as I stand at the dishwasher, staring out of the window, feeling awful.

“Hey, lovely man…” I say, quietly.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, Oliver,” I say, turning in his arms and clutching his chequered shirt at the waist, looking up at his face, “I just feel so terrible. I hate how I just lied to your mother. I feel awful about it… don’t you think we should have told her?”

“No…” he says softly, “don’t feel bad, sweetheart, she’ll be okay, she will understand.”

“I don’t think she will. I don’t think I’d be best pleased if my little boy ran off to Vegas and married some girl on a whim, keeping any family from witnessing their only boy’s only nuptials.”

He tilts his head to one said and runs the backs of his fingers up and down my cheek, tenderly. “You’re not just ‘
some girl
’. Please don’t worry about it - my mum isn’t all about her kids weddings. Yes, she’s going to look forward to planning Bea’s big day, but she doesn’t live - looking forward to the day of her kids’ weddings. She wants us to be happy, and you know my mum - if I tell her that this is what makes me happy, she will be happy for me. And you, Clare. Please stop worrying yourself. This is for us. You and I. Anyone who loves us will understand that.”

I nod. He does make sense, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling terrible about lying to everyone, or withholding the truth… or whatever.

“Come on, I have an idea to get us out of the house. Let’s go out for a few hours and then come back and chill out before dinner time, tonight. I’ll make us something you’ll like and we’ll go to bed at about nine-ish. That way, work tomorrow will be a breeze. What do you say?”

I smile and release his shirt to wrap my arms around him. “I think there’s a reason I always thought of you as the perfect man.”

“Maybe because I am?” he says with a cheeky grin.

“You really are.”

I fetch my handbag and slip on my shoes before we leave the house and climb into Oliver’s machine. Once in the car, he prompts me to return my wedding band to its rightful place by doing so himself, and we set off. When I ask him where we’re going, he simply says ‘For a drive, you’ll see,” and so I sit, patiently and contentedly, waiting to arrive wherever it is he’s taking me.

It’s quite a long drive, but we finally arrive outside a tiny boutique in Marlow, and as Oliver turns off the engine, I look to him in question. He simply points to the shop and wiggles his wedding finger.

“Rings?” I ask, slightly confused.

“Definitely. Let’s go and look at something a bit more permanent.”

I smile, excitedly as I step out of the car and around to Oliver as he winks at me and makes a move towards the door. A very delicate sounding bell on the door shakes and rings as we step inside the quaint, beautifully decorated little shop.

A very elegant looking gentleman walks through from the back and once we tell him what we’re looking for, we find ourselves trying on a beautiful selection of gold and platinum wedding rings.

It’s surprisingly easy to pick two, and we decide on some very simple, platinum rings in the same style, only mine is shallower in depth than Oliver’s ring. We have our fingers measured and place the order, and just as I begin to thank the gentleman for his wonderful help, Oliver stops me, and motions for me to sit down again.

“Just one more thing…” he says, smiling at me before looking back at the man. “Could we please look at the engagement rings that would match the band that my wife has ordered?”

“Of course,” he says as he takes some keys and moves to open a few glass cabinets.

I look back at a very smiley Oliver, “Engagement rings?”

“Yep, we may have only been engaged for a few hours darling, but you still deserve a diamond.”

“Oliver, really… that’s not necessary, a band is perfect.”

“Clare,” he says, shortly, meaning business, “we’re looking for an engagement ring because I’m going to buy you one. Do you like engagement rings?”

“Yes, but…”

He interrupts, “So you shall have one. If you don’t find one here, we’ll keep looking until we find something that you love. Okay?”

I grin and take his hand in mine, bringing it up to my lips to kiss. “Thank you, darling. Thank you.”

“Shh.”

Again, it really doesn’t take long, in fact - I see it almost instantly; an incredible one-off design, platinum band with a large, square diamond in the
centre, sandwiched by four sets of diamonds stacked on either side… it almost looks like a deep, double staircase leading up to a beautiful, pure, pristine stone. Oliver immediately agrees when he sees the ring on my finger.

“That’s perfect, Clare… don’t you think?”

“It’s amazing… I love it.”

“Do you want to get it or keep looking?”

“It’s awfully grand, though, Oliver. I mean - do you want to do this now? We could wait and see…”

“Clare!” he says, sternly. “Stop it. We’re forever. We’re getting you a ring, if this one is the one you think is your
favourite - then this is the one.”

“Thank you… though we don’t even know the price of it yet.”

He rolls his eyes. “Darling… no offence, but hush. I’m not listening to that nonsense. You don’t need to know the price, I do. Now, I happen to love this ring and think it looks perfect on you, but I don’t want you to rush into choosing a ring straight away if you’re unsure. Do you love it?”

I look at it on my finger and my mouth automatically - without my say-so - spreads half way across my face, appreciating the utter beauty of it.

“Okay - that says it all. We’ll take this one.”

Apparently, the wedding rings will be made to order and the engagement ring will need to be resized, so we agree upon a date for them to be delivered, in a few weeks. We have a little friendly debate about who pays for what - Oliver wants to pay for everything, I want to pay half, so in the end - we agree that I will pay for Oliver’s ring, and he will pay for mine. It’s not exactly fair because I have an incredible diamond in the mix, but he won’t accept anything else so - it is what it is.

As I clamber back into the car, I smile, not quite believing that I have just picked out my wedding and engagement rings. And I love Oliver for thinking to take me here. As he starts the engine, I look at him and stop him from moving the vehicle by placing my hand on his. “Oliver… thank you. That was such a lovely idea, I’m so excited.”

“Me too. You’re okay with wearing a different ring to the one we got married with, aren’t you?”

“You know me… I’m not traditional, I am definitely okay with it; it still means exactly the same thing - that Oliver wanted me enough to put that diamond on my finger and that he is… and will always be, my husband. I still can’t believe I’m saying that.”

“Me neither. I’m amazed that I got so lucky.”

I look down into my lap and blush before realising that I’m supposed to be working on that. It’s so damned hard but I lift my head, hold it high and look into Oliver’s beautiful green eyes, taking a deep breath. “Thank you. I love you.”

He frowns and smiles simultaneously as he gazes at me. “You have no idea how much I love you, Clare.”

My eyes begin to water and I blink in an attempt to hold the tears back, but it’s useless, they’re far too forceful and come pouring down my cheeks like a bloody dam has just burst. He leans over and wraps me in his strong arms.

“Don’t cry… it’s all good.”

“I know, I know. I’m so emotional lately.”

“Because there’s a lot going on! Just don’t be confused about us, okay? We may have done everything a bit quickly, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t secretly loved each other for a while or that this isn’t right.”

I giggle, wiping under my eyes, my cheek pressed against his hard, warm chest. “I know. Thank you for this.”

“Stop, it’s fine. So…” he says, releasing me and sitting back into his seat, watching me, “a spot of lunch on the river?”

How the hell did he know? Did I tell him I wanted to do that?
“Exactly what I thought we could do, lovely.”

“Great!”

He pulls out of the parking spot as I put my seatbelt on, thinking how incredible the rest of my life will be.

Shortly after, we walk into ‘
Boulters’, a restaurant on Boulters Lock Island in Maidenhead. I’ve been here once or twice with the Harts for Sunday lunch. It’s a beautiful day so we decide to sit out on the terrace in the sunshine, with a view of the river below us. It’s stunning.

Once we have ordered drinks and food, Oliver holds my hand on my lap and leans forward to kiss my lips. “This is nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s lovely, perfect choice.”

“I mean this,” he says, pointing backwards and forwards between us, “you and I, lunching together like this.”

“Well, yes, it is lovely, but we used to do this all the time - as friends.”

“But that was ages ago, before… you know… and I’ve missed that. It’s really nice that we can pick back up where we left off before she came along, only this time - we can hold hands and kiss… and nothing will ever get in the way of that again. That’s what I mean.”