Page 3 of Take a Moment

‘And I’m embarrassed. Think I’ll just… head.’

Before I can say anything more, he offers me a cringing smile and a half-wave and disappears into the moving crowd of travellers. I chuckle out loud and give myself a little shake as I try to digest what just happened: in particular, the notably inappropriate feeling of disappointment that’s hanging around me. What the hell is that about? It’s not like I’m never going to find other men attractive now I’m getting married. But I’ve got Dom – the most amazing man in the world – and I’m completely besotted with him. And I’ve missed him something rotten while I’ve been away at the conference.

Carrying on through the ticket barriers, I make my way outside and hurry across the road to the prearranged pickup point I agreed with Dom. I quickly throw my case in the car boot and jump into the passenger seat so he can take off before a traffic warden books him, but he seems more concerned with greeting me.

‘Hi, kitten. How was your journey?’ His piercing blue eyes search mine.

‘Long but fine.’

‘I know it was only two nights but I missed you.’

He pulls me into a tender kiss, which I melt into welcomingly, enjoying the familiar citrusy scent of his eau de toilette, and the minty taste from the gum he’s been chewing. Then he puts the car into gear and pulls out into the road. I gaze out of the window, watching the citizens of Glasgow going about their business as we zoom past them.

‘Guess what?’ I say suddenly. ‘I just got asked out by the guy sitting across from me on the train. How crazy is that?’

‘You did? I trust you politely declined.’ Dom chuckles.

‘I considered his offer, but I think I’ll stick with you.’

‘Cheeky. Sooner we get that engagement ring back on your finger the better. Don’t want some other bloke stealing you away from me.’

‘Like that would happen. The jeweller called, by the way. It’s ready for collection – and apparently, it’s now a perfect size match to my wedding ring. Can’t believe how close our big day is getting.’

‘I know, Lex.’ He reaches across and squeezes my hand affectionately. ‘Just five months to go. I can’t wait for you to become Mrs Dominic Lauder.’

‘Me neither.’ I gaze at him adoringly, the man from the train already forgotten, as I look forward to an evening relaxing with Dom.

Chapter 2

2 weeks later

‘Dom? Have you seen my keys? I’m going to be late for work.’

Dom’s handsome bearded face appears round the edge of the bathroom door, having just emerged from the shower, his wet brown hair slicked back. ‘When did you last have them?’

‘Hmmm… don’t know.’ I try to persuade my sluggish Monday morning brain to recount my movements over the last twenty-four hours.

‘What were you wearing yesterday? Think I unlocked the door when we got back from the supermarket.’

I have a thought, then rush to the wooden chair in the bedroom. Pouncing on my fleece, I let out a triumphant whoop as I hear the familiar jangle come from the pocket. ‘Thanks, lover. You’re the best. Don’t know what I’d do without you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ he yells from behind the now closed bathroom door. ‘Have a good day, kitten.’

I blow a little kiss towards the bathroom, despite the fact I know Dom can’t see me, then sprint out the door of our tenement apartment.

A few hours later, I’m hunched over, gasping for breath. My regular lunchtime run is not going to plan today.

‘Are you OK?’ My best friend, Sasha, doubles back and jogs on the spot in front of me, concern etched across her face. ‘Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to skip lunch.’

‘I’m fine. Think I may have a cold coming on. Been a bit off the last few days.’ I’m panting like a tired dog, feeling the burn in my lungs, my muscles, and on my weatherbeaten cheeks.

‘Maybe you should take a break from running?’ Sasha suggests as she continues to bob up and down in front of me, Glasgow’s Kelvingrove Park with its colourful explosion of spring flowers providing an appealing backdrop behind her. ‘You shouldn’t work out if you’re sick. A week won’t make a difference. Your wedding’s still four and a half months away.’

As my breathing begins to settle, I straighten up, piercing Sasha with my well-practisedare-we-seriously-having-this-conversationlook: the one I generally save for my mother when she harps on about irrelevant or unnecessary stuff. ‘Sasha, how long have you known me?’

‘Oh, Lex, don’t start—’

‘If you don’t want me to start, then why play surrogate mother? I already have a real one who melts my head every chance she gets.’ I place my left hand on my hip to punctuate my remark, while allowing just the hint of a cheeky grin to sneak through.

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