Page 61 of Best Man
“Yes. How did you remember that?” I ask, amazed.
He shrugs. “It helps that I listen to you.” He pauses. “Well, it doesn’t help my mental health, but c’est la vie.”
“You’re so cosmopolitan, Daddy,” I say, nudging him and listening to his throaty laughter with pleasure.
The waitress returns to guide us to the table, and it takes a few minutes to settle down. He looks around with interest. The restaurant is set up like a classroom with educational posters on the walls, a blackboard with the specials on it, and desks for tables.
We order our drinks and desserts. Zeb chooses a peach panna cotta while I go for the popsicle cheesecake and we both opt for Irish coffees. When the waitress leaves with a smile, he sits back and looks at me. “So, back to Eli?”
“What?” I say innocently and then laugh. “He’s my best friend. Never been anything else and I think his boyfriend would have something to say if there was.” I pause. “Although I’d pay to hear him say even horrible things.”
He looks at me quizzically and I smile. “Eli lives with Gideon Ramsay.”
He whistles. “The actor who came out last year? Eli is the nurse he was seeing?”
“Living with,” I say. “And I fully expect they’ll get married.”
He sits back as our drinks are delivered. “So, Eli is taken,” he says happily, and I grin. He shoots me a look. “Do you miss him?”
I take a sip of the hot drink, tasting the rich cream, and sigh contentedly. I nod. “A lot. I miss sharing the flat with him and so does Charlie. But he’s happy and that’s the most important thing. I can’t see that ever changing. He and Gideon go together like toast and marmalade.”
“Can you imagine doing that?”
I flick a look at him. “Of course,” I say simply. “I want that. Not all of it,” I add quickly. “I mean, Gideon and Eli want kids. That’s not me.”
“Really?” He sounds startled. “You don’t want children?”
I shudder. “Never. No, thank you. I grew up in a family with children seeming to come out of the fucking walls. My sisters spent five years dressing me up like a goblin and pushing me around in a fucking toy pram. My brothers meanwhile either sat on me, locked me in wardrobes to see if Narnia was real, or dobbed me in.”
“It’s likeThe Lord of the Flies,” he says wonderingly. “Do you still speak to each other as adults?”
“Ofcourse. I speak to a member of my family every day. It’s a red-letter day when I manage five minutes on the loo without a phone call interrupting me and giving me bossy instructions about what to do with my life.” I shrug. “I’m the youngest. They all think they know better than me.”
He looks almost wistful and I remember that he was an only child. “Do you wish you’d had brothers or sisters?” I ask abruptly.
He shakes his head, looking thoughtful. “No, never. It would have just meant another person who…”
He trails off. “Who what?” I ask.
He smiles almost sadly. “Another person I’d have had to be responsible for,” he finally answers, tapping his fingers restlessly. I reach over and stay his fingers by squeezing his hand, and he looks surprised and grateful. It makes my throat tighten.
“So, do you want kids?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. Don’t get me wrong, if my partner has nieces and nephews, I’d love to spoil them. But I don’t want any myself.”
“What do you want?” I ask impulsively.
He smiles in a soft way. “I’d like to travel. Go to all the places I’ve heard about.” He pauses. “I’d like to do that with someone. Being on your own isn’t much fun when there’s so much to share.”
I nod enthusiastically. “That sounds amazing. That’s me too. I want to travel the world, not be tied by kids. The only person I want to betied by is the man I end up with.” I pause. “Obviously by tied I don’t mean in a restrictive fashion,” I say quickly. “I’m not into that. I whinge if I get a paper cut.”
He bites his lip, the smile deep in his eyes. “You’d make a disgustingly bad sub anyway. Although the gag is a very appealing thought.”
I laugh and drain my drink, motioning to his. “Come on. We’re going to order some more drinks. We might even order another dessert just to be really decadent. And for each cocktail we drink, we have to share an embarrassing story from our past.”
He groans but the twinkle in his eyes gives him away. So that’s what we do. We eat and drink and laugh until the waitresses are yawning and putting up chairs on tables. And I’m never once bored. The thought scares me because my feelings are already so strong for this man. Although looking at his face full of laughter, those kind eyes, and his hot body, I know I’m going to go full steam ahead anyway.
ELEVEN
