Page 61 of Every Rose

Chapter Twenty

When she knocked on Matt’s door not many hours later, she still felt lightheaded from the shock of receiving her first marriage proposal. And not exactly one she’d been expecting, either.

Matt opened the door. He was clean-shaven but she could see he hadn’t put a lot of effort into it. He didn’t wear Savile Row. She thought he might be wearing Levis, but the football shirt hung over the belt line so she couldn’t be sure. He looked good, though. And the house smelled so good her heart sank. She was still full from the ninety-five-course lunch.

He pulled her to him and kissed her, hard and hungry. For a second she felt stunned. Two men kissing her in one day?

He pulled back, a quizzical expression on his face. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. Sorry, I was distracted by the cooking smells. You really do cook.”

“Sure do. I hope you’re hungry.”

She was so full she thought a sip of ice water might do her in. “What is it? Smells amazing.”

“Moussaka. It’s a family recipe. Come in the kitchen and talk to me. It’s almost ready.”

As they walked through she checked out the main living area and glimpsed a fireplace with a beautiful carved mantel that looked original, hardwood floors that could use refinishing, a couple of art deco stained-glass windows. His furniture was solid, Mission-style pieces that were probably reproduction, but good ones. She was impressed. Of course, if she lived here, she’d do more with the art and accessories, and tidy up the built-in bookshelves.

The kitchen was a mix of old and new. He or someone had refinished the cabinets, some of which were glass-fronted, but the counters were granite and the appliances were modern and top-of-the-line.

“Gorgeous house,” she said.

“Glad you like it.”

He poured her a glass of wine and she sipped it. The atmosphere was strange between them and she knew it was coming from her.

He glanced up from chopping tomatoes. “Busy day?”

“A surprising one.”

“Yeah? Somebody pop a baby without scheduling it first?”

“No. I had lunch with an old friend.”

He paused the knife and gave her his full attention. “Yeah?”

“It was Peter Buckingham.”

“The lord.”

“The baronet. Yes.”

He put down the chopping knife. His face, usually so full of expression, gave nothing away. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yes. He’s always good company.” She took another sip of wine. “Matt, he asked me to marry him.”

She waited, her breath suspended in her throat.

He picked up his beer and drank. Time ticked by with agonizing slowness. Then he said, “Well, we always knew this day would come. I didn’t expect it this fast, but hey, good for you. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“I had no idea he was even in the country. I don’t want you to think I was keeping anything from you.” No! That wasn’t what she meant to say. She was so confused. She wanted to share a truly astonishing piece of news with the person she most wanted to share everything with.

“We’ve been clear about you and me from the start. It was great while it lasted. No hard feelings. I’ll miss the sex, but I wish you well.”

“That’s it?”

“What more do you want?” his voice was slightly sarcastic.

---