Page 16 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

I could picture how his eyes would be right now. The grey darkening ever so slightly in anger.

“On the cheek of course!” I had a right to sound indignant. What sort of woman did he think I was? “You know you have a serious problem, don’t you? Jealousy is an ugly trait and you have absolutely no reason to feel so. Dougie just wants to be my friend, Matt. Oh and he congratulated us on our engagement. See? He just wants to be my friend.”

There was another pause before he asked in that unnervingly quiet and calm tone of his, “He bought tickets for every night?”

“Umm, yes,” I said. “Most likely as a show of support. I couldn’t stop talking about the production when we had lunch at the Dorchester. So, um, when are you coming home?”

Matt chuckled. It was not the reaction I expected and it didn’t sound like a maniacal chuckle either, more like a ‘my poppet is so amusing’ chuckle.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly. “Don’t try and change the subject.”

“I like it when you call me sweetheart.” I murmured.

“Still trying to change the topic I see,” he mused. “We’re engaged, in my eyes we’re practically married. I’m not worried about McGregor stealing you away from me, although I would still prefer for you to stay away from him-”

“Matt!”

“Let me finish,” he intoned dryly. “If you want to establish some form of friendly interaction with McGregor, I’ll allow it-”

“Excuse me?” I interjected loudly.Allow it? The hell was wrong with him?

“Stop interrupting me, poppet,” Matt said. “As I was saying, if you want to be friends with him, I have no problem with this,”

“Uh hmm,” I replied sceptically, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“As long as I’m around whenever you want to be friendly with him, there won’t be any issues.”

I snorted in amusement. Silly man. “What if he wants to hang out after tonight’s performance? Or tomorrow’s?”

“Then you respectfully decline until we can make arrangements for us all to hang out when I’m back in England, poppet.”

I giggled, unable to stop it. He made me laugh. “You are the silliest man I’ve ever met and I miss you.”

“I’ve not been gone long,” he said.

“I miss you.”

“Good,” he replied huskily. “When are you moving in with me?”

“Wow, would you look at the time? I need to go to sleep.” I teased.

“Not funny.” he grumbled.

“Can we discuss it when you get back?”

“Mmm, there isn’t much to discuss. We’re engaged and I want you living with me. What else is there to say about the matter?”

An eye roll took place on my part. I refused to get drawn into it with him over the phone. “So when exactly are you coming home, Matt?”

“Hopefully before the 25th.” He didn’t sound certain at all. “My parents mentioned they’ve invited you to the estate for Christmas, if I haven’t returned by then I’ll arrange for you to go with Hannah.”

I sat up against the pillows. Yes, his parents had extended an invitation to me. The call from Portia had come hours after Matt’s plane had left jolly ole’ England. It was an awkward call. Two days after our restaurant dinner/ordeal, I had gotten a call from Matt’s dad. He apologized for what was said and asked if we could start afresh, then he put his wife on. Portia Bradley didn’t do apologies very well. I was left feeling undecided about the whole thing. Matt had been pleased but he warned me to not expect too much too soon.

“Umm, I don’t want to go if you’re not here. I’d much rather chill out at home. It’s the only day we have off while the production ison.”

“If I’m not back by then, I don’t want you on your own for Christmas, Madison.” he replied.

Ah, complete first name, someone was trying to put his foot down.

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