Page 74 of Forever Mr Black

“Who’s that?” I breathe, not wanting to move or to stop what’s about to happen.

He pulls away and looks at me. “Why don’t you go and answer it?”

I draw my head back and frown in confusion. “Me? But I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He laughs softly. “Just make sure you don’t flash them then.”

I slide off the stool and tug my jumper down to make sure it’s covering my bum. “Are you sure? It could be a man, and I’m practically naked,” I tease.

Art rolls his eyes at my jibe and smirks, sipping his coffee.

I head down the hall and open the front door to be greeted by the biggest bunch of flowers I’ve ever seen. Beautiful cream roses and purple gypsophila, interspersed with forget-me-nots.

The young delivery lad peers around the tops of the flowers and flashes a polite smile. “Good morning, madam. These are for Sophie.”

“Erm … yes, that’s me. Thanks.”

“Here you go,” he says cheerily, handing them to me. “They’re quite heavy.”

I carefully take the bouquet in my arms.

“Have a good day now.” He bobs his head and disappears down the landing.

“Thank you again,” I call after him and push the door closed with my hip.

“Can you manage?” Art asks as I appear in the kitchen.

“Just about.” I heave the bouquet on top of the kitchen counter and touch one of the tiny forget-me-nots. “These are beautiful.” My eyes slide to him. “Thank you.”

He gives me an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid I’ve been a bad son and bad fiancé.”

“How come?”

“I realised this morning that I’d never bought you any flowers. I gave you the forget-me-nots, but those don’t really count because we weren’t together then.”

“So, these are guilt flowers.”

He pulls a face. “Yeah, that makes me a shit boyfriend and an even shittier fiancé.”

I scrunch my nose in disagreement. “You’re not that bad.” I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his neck. “I suppose you do have some redeeming qualities.”

“I’m very glad to hear it.” He loops his arms around my waist and pulls me close, kissing me slowly.

I tangle my fingers through his thick hair and lose myself in him. The scent of him, the taste of his kiss, the feel of his silky hair running through my fingers. All of him. This is what I need. This is what makes me forget.

“What do you want for breakfast?” I breathe, pulling my lips from his.

Shimmering, dark eyes hold mine and give me his answer before he opens his mouth. “You.”

I smile. “I was hoping you would say that.”

He kisses me once on the lips. “Always, Sophie. For eternity. I’ll always want you.”

Twenty-Three

The sun has ducked behind the clouds as we pull up outside Barbara’s that afternoon.

Art unfastens his seat belt. “Wait until we tell Mum we’ve set a date for the wedding. She’ll be thrilled.”