Undertaking Love Page 0,25
knuckles.
‘I’m so sorry. I’ve been such a prick. I’m never here when you need me. I’ve deliberately missed appointments. Truth is I’m scared.’
‘Tom …’
‘I can’t make it without you.’ His voice cracked. ‘A family, kids … all that stuff would be great, Em. But if we never get lucky enough, then it just means that I can be selfish and keep you to myself forever.’
He hauled her into his arms, not sure where her tears ended and his own began.
‘We aren’t defined by whether or not we have children, Emily. We are so much better than that. Aren’t we?’ He held her at arms length and studied her face. ‘We’ve let this … this thing push its way between us. It’s in our bedroom like an unwelcome mistress. I hate it.’
He touched his fingers against her wedding ring. ‘This means everything to me. Do you still love me?’
Emily nodded. ‘Of course I do. But I barely see you anymore to love you, Tom. You’d rather be at work, or away. Anywhere but here. And when you are here, it’s worse. I’m so lonely, even when we’re in the same room.’
Tom reached out and cradled her face in his hands, unsure how to pull their relationship back from the cliff edge it teetered on. ‘I don’t know what the future holds, Em. I just know I want to hold you in mine.’
He moulded her against him as she cried, the familiarity of her curves felt like home under his hands. Comfort slid sideways into raw desire, as instinctive as breathing.
He unbuttoned her blouse, desperate for the warmth of her skin against his own.
Clinging.
Remembering.
Longing.
Reawakening.
Soothing away the bruises from each other’s heart.
Sometime after midnight, Tom dropped a kiss on Emily’s warm shoulder and slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her. He sat in his battered La-Z-Boy for an age, then stepped out onto their front step, cigarette lighter in one hand, and Emily’s unopened letter from the mantelpiece in the other.
Chapter Ten
Marla used both hands to push Bluey’s huge backside out from underneath her desk in order to make more room for her knees then scowled at her watch. She’d told Gabe to come over after lunch. What time did the man eat lunch? By her calculations, he should have been here at least an hour ago. No doubt he was playing mind games, keeping her waiting as a casual demonstration of the fact that he held all the cards.
As if she wasn’t painfully aware of that already.
She could, of course, just storm over there and steal his thunder, but the idea of a rematch with Gabe’s guard-dog of a receptionist didn’t hold much appeal. Anyway, what would it show him, besides the fact that he’d got under her skin? The home turf advantage was worth waiting for. She reached into her bottom drawer and pulled out a doggy treat for Bluey to apologise for banishing him to the other side of the room.
Her head snapped up as her office door creaked open, then shot down again to hide her disappointment as Dora came in, a can of polish in her hand.
‘You look as if you’ve found a penny and lost a pound,’ she said as she tipped the contents of the waste paper basket into a black bin liner produced from the pocket of her pinny.
Marla conjured up a smile. Or bared her teeth, in any case.
‘I’m fine, Dora. Or else I would be, if that man over there could tell the time. He’s late.’
She jerked her head towards the street. Dora’s eyes followed and settled mistily on the funeral parlour.
‘Gabriel? Oh, but he’s ever so busy, chicken.’ The dreamy smile fell off her face. ‘Is he coming over here? You really should have said, I’d have bought some jammy dodgers. They’re his favourites, you know.’
She dropped the polish into the rubbish bag by mistake, and didn’t even notice when Marla crossed the room and fished it out again.
‘Maybe I should slip over to the shop to get some?’
Marla was irritated to hear the same proprietorial tone in Dora’s voice that she’d detected in Gabe’s snotty receptionist’s the day before. What was it about him that turned the women around him into territorial tigresses?
‘Only if you’ll lace them with cyanide when you get back. He’s not coming for a tea party Dora, he’s …’
‘He’s outside the door and can hear every word you’re saying.’
Dora ruffled up her feathers like a peahen. ‘Gabriel, sit down. I’ll just pop downstairs and put