Page 58 of About Last Night
‘I can’t believe you’d do that for me,’ her voice wobbled with emotion.
‘For us.’
She shook her head and moved away from where his hand rested on her cheek, drawing herself up straight. ‘We don’t have to get married. Just the fact you’ve asked me to, because you think it would make me happy is enough. I know being married doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll be together forever, but I needed to know you were prepared to make a promise that cost you something to say. I believe you love me. And I love you. That’s enough for me.’
‘Well, let’s keep it as an open discussion. We don’t have to decide anything right now. I just want to be with you, Lula. And I want you to always feel that you can talk to me, even when we’re angry with each other.’
He cupped her face again and stroked his thumb across hersoft, full lips. ‘Please don’t think you have to withdraw into your own head again, it would kill me to think I’d made you do that.’
This time she gave him a genuine smile and he knew it was going to be okay. They’d make it work, because it was what they both wanted.
‘Okay. I promise,’ she said, leaning forward to kiss him gently. ‘No more silence.’
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
Lula had just wrapped up the Breakfast Show and handed over the reins to the next presenter when her broadcast assistant buzzed through to let her know that Tristan was on the phone for her.
She picked up the line in the studio, already smiling at the thought of hearing his voice. He’d nearly made her late again that morning by dragging her back into bed after her shower and she was still buzzing from his intensive attention.
‘Hello, beautiful, great show,’ he said, the sound of his voice sending waves of lustful need straight to those still aching parts of her.
‘Thank you. How come you were listening? I thought you had a meeting with your new programmer this morning?’
Tristan’s new educational open source software enterprise had gone from strength to strength since he’d set it up a year ago and it was unusual for him to take a working morning off.
‘Grab your stuff and come and meet me outside. Don’t worry, I’ve cleared it with Caitlin, she knows I’ve got plans for you today.’
A zing of excitement travelled up her spine. ‘What plans?’
‘You’ll see. Just get your sexy arse out here asap.’
When she emerged into the cool spring air, she found him leaning against their car with his arms folded across his broad chest and a wide smile on his face.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked, desperate to know what he had in store for her. She loved the surprises he cooked up – he had a real knack for knowing exactly what she’d enjoy.
That was one of the things she loved most about him, that hegother.
‘We’re celebrating your Best Breakfast Radio Show Presenter nomination by going on a road trip. I’ve booked a room at the Burgh Island hotel in Devon for tonight.’
‘Ooh, I’ve always wanted to stay there!’ she said, the buzz of excitement making her voice squeaky.
He smiled. ‘I know.’
Four hours later they had their trouser legs rolled up to their knees and were wading through the cold, shallow seawater between the mainland and Burgh Island.
‘We could have taken the tractor across with the luggage,’ Tristan said, smirking as he caught her frowning at the icy cold water.
‘No, no, I wanted to walk,’ she said, teeth chattering, batting away his amusement. ‘It’s good for the health to get your feet in the cold sea.’ She drew in a deep lungful of the briny air and gave him an imperious look.
He raised an eyebrow and snorted. ‘You and your factual gobbledegook.’
Even though the sun was shining, the island wasn’t busy with tourists and it was so quiet the only sounds they could hear werethe gentle lapping of the sea and the cries of the seagulls overhead.
Once they’d made it onto dry land and checked in at the opulent Art Deco hotel, Tristan led her over to the other side of the island so they could look out at the unbroken expanse of sea.
Lula took a deep breath as she gazed out at the endless blue-grey of the horizon. ‘It’s like being at the edge of the world,’ she said.
