Page 90 of Love ad Lib
‘Ye-es?’
‘I’m really glad Lucas isn’t your boyfriend. You deserve someone so much better.’ He broke her gaze, lying down and facing away. ‘Goodnight, Libby.’
She lay down and turned off the light, her eyes wide open in the darkness. ‘Goodnight, Henry,’ she replied.
17
Libby wasn’t sure exactly where she was in her dream, but she was feeling warm, comfortable and very sexy. She rolled onto her back and stretched like a cat in the sun. She needed to be stroked.
Mmm… I’ll purr for belly rubs.
‘Libby?’
‘Touch me,’ she murmured.
A loud knocking interrupted the softness of her dream.
‘Purr—’
‘Hang on! It’s locked,’ Henry’s voice called out.
There was a loud crash.
‘Dad! Fuck’s sake! Now look what you’ve done!’
She sat up with a start. Henry was striding towards the bedroom door, fully dressed. The door was open, half of the dead bolt hanging off. His father was in the corridor in front of him, picking a tea tray from the floor, his dressing gown still not tied sufficiently to cover what was underneath.
‘You didn’t have a sock on the handle,’ Arthur replied. ‘I thought it was jammed.’ He glanced at Libby. ‘Morning Libby! Sleep well?’
Henry stared from the splintered door frame to his father and took the tray from him. ‘Do your bloody dressing gown up. Nobody wants to see that.’
‘Nonsense!’ Arthur replied. ‘Couldn’t disagree more. In the past I had people queueing for a ride.’
Henry brought the tray over and placed it on the table beside her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he murmured. ‘Again.’
‘Bloody woodworm. That or dry rot.’ His father picked at where the lock had given way. ‘Lasted nearly five hundred years though. Can’t say fairer than that.’ He glanced up. ‘Maybe Finn could fix it. Is he coming over today for the picnic? The party later?’
Libby’s heart hadn’t slowed since she’d woken up. It was all too much to take in. Had she been purring? Her dreams were disappearing like smoke from a snuffed candle.
‘I don’t know. I think so,’ Henry replied. ‘But you can’t ask him to fix it.’
‘Why not? He’s a carpenter.’
‘It’s his day off.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes. It’s the weekend.’
Arthur winked at Libby. ‘I do my most important work on the weekend. No rest for the wicked and all that.’
Henry pointed at the door. ‘Out!’
‘Okay, okay.’ He backed away, holding up his hands. ‘Got to get dressed for church, anyway.’
Libby closed her eyes.
