Page 64 of Wanting Mr Black
I arch my eyebrows in surprise and sit down on the sofa. “What a gentleman.”
“He is.” She breaks out into a grin and scoots off the bed to come and sit beside me. “He’s the old-fashioned type as well, opening doors for me, pulling out chairs, little things like that. Mark never did any of those things. I can’t believe that this was meant to be our honeymoon.”
Lucy and Mark’s wedding seems like a distant memory.
“It has been a bit of a whirlwind these last few days,” I agree.
“But they say everything happens for a reason.”
Outwardly, she’s back to her bright, bubbly self, but that doesn’t make me any less concerned about her. The ink’s barely dried on her marriage certificate.
“I’m saying this because I’m your friend,” I begin carefully. “I think Big Steve likes you, and I can tell that you like him. I just don’t want you to rush into something and get hurt.”
She smiles weakly and fiddles with the strap of her bikini. “I understand. If you were in my situation, I’d be saying the same thing to you, but I’m not rushing into anything. He doesn’t want to either. He’s conscious of how soon things have ended between Mark and me. That’s why we just talked last night. The more I get to know him, the more I like him. I don’t want a rebound fling with him. I think too much of him for that. He’s nice, and I don’t know where it’s going to lead, but for now, I need a guy who’s caring and attentive and kind.” She pauses, and her mouth twists into a smile as she gives me the side-eye. “And when the time’s right … will give me a good seeing-to.”
I burst out laughing. She can’t help herself.
“And do you think he will?”
“I don’t know.” She chews the corner of her lip thoughtfully. “But I’m gagging to find out.”
We fall about in a fit of giggles over the sofa and are disturbed by a knock. The door opens, and Big Steve pokes his head around. The tip of his nose and forehead are pink from too much sun, and his eyes glint with amusement as he catches us acting like a couple of schoolgirls.
“There’s champagne on deck for you lovely ladies.”
“What a charmer.” Lucy smiles.
He flashes a cheeky grin. “For you, I’ll be anything you want.”
“What an offer.” She bats her eyelashes, and I suddenly feel like a gooseberry.
“Thanks,” I interject. “We’ll be up in a minute.”
He nods and disappears, closing the door as he goes.
“What?” she protests innocently at the look I shoot her. “I was only flirting.”
I’m beginning to doubt her plans for taking things slowly. In fact, I don’t think Lucy could take anything slowly if she tried.
“I think his resolve’s crumbling,” she says decisively, pushing her boobs up in her green bikini top. “He couldn’t take his eyes off me when he first saw me today.”
Lucy has always had envious cleavage.
“You look good.”
“So do you. All my bloody bikinis look far better on you. No wonder Art’s smitten. I’m glad you two worked things out.”
I can’t help but smile. “Last night, he told me he loved me.”
Lucy gives me a playful slap on the arm. “See, I knew it! Steve said he’s never known him as head over heels as he is with you.” She looks at me for a long moment, as if she’s thinking about what to say. “I’m so happy for you.”
I’m sure I see her well up but can’t be certain because she’s suddenly on her feet and at the door.
“Come on. I need some champagne.”
Thirty-Three
As we climb back up on deck, the yacht’s already moving out of the marina. Big Steve shoves a glass of champagne in my hand, and Lucy’s already taken up residence at the back of the deck, sprawled across the seats, sunning herself.