Page 70 of Love ad Lib
‘Henry! You’re not boring!’
‘Yes, I am. I’m a City broker who never takes holidays and looks at market figures and spreadsheets for fun. I’m having to pay you to pretend to like me because I can’t find anyone who wants to be with me. Trust me, I know I’m boring.’
Libby’s eyes filled with tears. ‘No, you’re n—’
‘Yes, I am.’ Irritation scratched at his soul. The last thing he wanted was a vivacious, beautiful, talented woman feeling sorry for him. Libby’s boyfriend didn’t seem to realise how lucky he was to have her.
‘But—’
He started for the bathroom, desperate to get away. ‘I’m going to find another room for the night and leave you in peace. I’m sure you need to catch up with Lucas? Let him know you’re okay?’ He didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, grabbing his wash bag, he headed for the corridor. ‘Thank you for today,’ he said, pausing at the door. ‘I really appreciate it. I hope you sleep well.’
‘Henry—’
He strode out.
Henry joggedalong the corridor and up a flight of stairs to the attic rooms, all prepared for the extended family who were arriving the next day. He chose one at random, entered and flicked on the light. He went to the window and stared out into the blackness.
In the near distance, the lights of the Dower House twinkled. Gram-Gram was back home. She was fiercely protective of him and the one member of the family most reluctant to embrace Libby with open arms. His stomach knotted. Gram-Gram missed nothing. They would have to be extra careful around her.
He rested his forehead against the cool glass. Where would he sleep tomorrow? One thing was certain, he could never share a room, let alone a bed, with Libby.
He washed, cleaned his teeth, then lay on top of the pristine counterpane, staring up at the ceiling. Day one was over.Just keep it together until Tuesday morning, then life can go back to normal.He turned off the light, but his eyes wouldn’t close. Each time he forced them shut, images of Libby danced before him. He rolled over to face the wall. He’d fall asleep eventually. He just had to wait.
14
‘Happy birthday!’
Libby woke with a start from a deep sleep, cocooned in the comfiest bed she’d ever lain in. Where was she? Her discombobulated dream was fading, leaving her facing the nightmare of an older man who hadn’t done his dressing gown up enough to hide his genitals.
‘Happy birthday to you, happy—’
Libby’s subconscious took care of the situation by making her scream.
The man took a step back. ‘It’s only me! Where’s Henry?’
Reality crashed through her in fractured waves and her scream cut off. She was at Foxbrooke Manor. In her nightie. Facing Henry’s father who was carrying a tray with two mugs on it and a cupcake with a dribbling candle stuck in the top.
‘Gone for a run—’
The door banged open and Henry entered, wearing the clothes he’d been wearing the previous night.
‘Libby—’ He stopped dead.
‘Happy birthday, m’boy!’
Henry’s gaze dropped to his father’s crotch. ‘Dad! Fuck’s sake! Do your dressing gown up properly!’
Arthur glanced down. ‘Oopsies.’ He passed the tray to Henry. ‘Here, take this.’
He took it. ‘Dad, what are you doing here?’
His father looked confused. ‘Bringing you both a cup of tea and wishing you happy birthday. Isn’t that pretty clear? Go on, blow it out. Make a wish.’
Henry blew the candle out. By the thunderous look on his face, Libby guessed he was wishing his father would disappear as easily as the flame.
‘But, Dad. What if we had been, erm…’
‘Shagging?’ His father frowned. ‘But you weren’t.’
