Page 35 of Forever, Maybe
He removed the by-now empty teacup from her hands, stood up and stripped off his T-shirt, revealing pale skin and a hairy chest. With a clang, his belt landed on the floor, and he unbuttoned his jeans. The white jockey shorts underneath bulged, tellingly, in front. “Gonnae do the hands and knees thing you told everyone in Theta Bar and Grill about?”
Lust glazed his eyes, adding a shining lacquer to the brown colour, as he watched her remove her pink camisole top and matching bottoms, and her thoughts flickered, momentarily, to the early days of their marriage.
“If you insist…”
The man who climbed onto the bed definitely wasn’t thinking about kids now.
Chapter thirteen
August1996
“Do you want me to carry you over the threshold?” Daniel asked, glancing at Nell. They stood outside the door of their new home, a second-floor tenement flat in Glasgow’s south side. The stairwell walls were adorned with Art Nouveau green-and-white tiles—an old-world charm that had sealed the deal for Nell, despite Daniel’s protests in favour of a modern, more spacious flat in the Gorbals.
Above the door knocker, a brass plaque readMrs J Reid.Daniel had already decided it would be gone by tomorrow. First thing in the morning, he’d head to the Timpson’s on Victoria Road to order a shiny new one, inscribed withMr and Mrs Murrayin elegant, swirling script. The thought still gave him a buzz. Mrs Murray. Nell Murray. His wife.
He glanced at her again and felt the familiar pinch of disbelief. How had he managed this? How hadhe—gangly, awkward Daniel—landedher? Nell was all tiny, kinetic energy, her beauty understated but arresting. Her dark blonde hair framed her face in soft waves, and today’s outfit—green leggings, an oversized jumper to match and silver pumps—made her look even younger than her twenty-two years.
She grinned mischievously. “All right, then. But if you put your back out carrying me, don’t expect any sympathy.”
“You’re not too heavy, Nell.” To prove his point, he scooped her up effortlessly, one arm under her back, the other beneath her legs, while she shrieked and clung to his neck, laughing. “See? Who’s got the keys? Oh. I do. They’re in my front pocket.”
Her free hand fumbled at his jeans, sliding into the pocket and lingered longer than necessary, her fingers brushing against him in a way that made his pulse jump. Then she gave him a cheeky squeeze, her voice dropping into a seductive lilt. “Do you promise you’ll fuck me in every room in this flat as soon as we’re inside?”
His body responded instantly. “Christ, Nell,” he muttered, his voice rougher now.
Her laughter bubbled up again, but this time it was layered with anticipation. “Better hurry up, then, Mr Murray.”
He and Nell had spent the first few months of their marriage living with his parents. If it had been up to him, they’d still be there. His mum and dad’s semi on Paisley Road West was far more comfortable than this draughty tenement flat, and the rent—if you could even call it that—barely covered utilities. Another year there, and they could have saved enough for a proper deposit instead of throwing money away on rent.
But Nell had put her foot down. She was fed up sneaking around like a teenager every time they wanted to have sex. “It’s ridiculous,” she’d fumed one evening after Daniel’s youngest brother barged into their room unannounced. “I’m not spending the rest of my life waiting for your family to vacate the house just so we can have a shag.”
She’d drawn the line firmly. No marital relations if his mum, dad or any of his siblings were within earshot. This hard boundary had forced them to get creative. Linn Park had become their go-to escape—a green haven with just enough secluded spots. Though, as they’d quickly learned, it was also a popular rendezvous for Glasgow’s gay community, leading to more than a few awkward encounters.
Now, finally, they had a place of their own. Five whole rooms—living room, kitchen, bathroom and two bedrooms—all free of interruptions.
“Nae bother, Mrs Murray,” Daniel teased as they crossed the threshold. “And why stop at the rooms? How about the hallway? If you get down on your hands and knees, and I—”
“Hello there.”
As they turned toward the source of the greeting, Daniel swung Nell around. At the top of the stairs stood a man, one hand gripping the banister. He looked a bit older than them, his red face glistening with sweat beneath clumps of thick auburn hair. Dressed head-to-toe in big-brand sports gear, he had the look of someone fresh from the gym or maybe a run, though the breadth of his chest and the bulk of his neck suggested he spent more time bench pressing than jogging.
Nell’s shoulders shook as she tried—and failed—to stifle her giggles. The man smirked, his eyes shamelessly trailing over her. Daniel could imagine the mental image forming: Nell, half-naked, on her hands and knees, her back arched, glancing coyly over her shoulder with a sly wink. The thought that this guy was picturing it—and probably envied him—only made Daniel’s pulse quicken. They really needed to get inside that flat. Now.
“Hi,” Daniel said, deciding against attempting a handshake while Nell was still in his arms. “I’m Daniel, and this is my wife,” extra emphasis on the ‘my’ “Nell. We’re moving in here.”
The man’s eyebrows shot up as his mouth rounded in an exaggeratedo. “Your wife? Jesus. She’s a child bride.”
“I am not!” Nell exclaimed. “I’m twenty-two, well over the legal adult age, thank you very much. And if I’d wanted to, I could’ve got married six years ago in Scotland!”
The man slapped a hand dramatically to his chest, his eyes widening. “Beg pardon, dear lady. My mistake!”
Nell blinked in bemusement. Before either of them could respond, he sauntered over, stopping in front of Nell to extend his hand. She shook it hesitantly, but he held onto it far longer than politeness required, his gaze fixed on her face like a moth to a flame. Then, with an exaggerated flourish, he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
“Delighted to meet you both,” he said, straightening up and flashing a grin. “Jamie Curtice. I’m looking after the flat upstairs for a mate of mine. Pop up anytime if you run out of sugar… or coffee.” He shot a wink at Nell.
“Thanks,” Daniel said, ninety-nine per cent sure that invitation didn’t include him.
The weight of Nell—slight though she was—pulled at his back, shoulders and hamstrings, but he’d be damned if he put her down in front of this guy. Pride, stubbornness and the overwhelming desire to get inside their flat combined into a singular focus: endure. Just a little longer.
