Page 79 of The Cornish Christmas Book Clu
‘Ah, now we find out what youreallyasked Father Christmas for.’
‘I’ve been a very good boy this year,’ he said huskily. ‘I could nip back to the flat and get my white suit if you like?’
She turned her head to pop a kiss on his mouth. ‘I knew I’d been a good girl for a reason.’
Chapter Thirty
Gage didn’t usually find it hard to keep secrets, but Tamara was making this one almost impossible. She had been baking in every free moment to perfect her recipes, and he’d dutifully eaten more cakes and pies in the last couple of months than in his entire life. When pressed on which was his favourite, he’d muttered that he’d happily eat the sharp-cheddar-cheese-and-chive scone with a touch of cayenne pepper every day. That’d made her laugh.
Alongside that she’d worked all hours to get the café exactly as she wanted for the grand opening in four days and must be exhausted. Only this morning she’d mentioned wishing they could celebrate together quietly at home rather than go to a New Year’s Eve party at Nathan and Melissa’s house. The impromptu gathering was all Quinten’s doing, and Gage wasn’t convinced it was a good idea. Evelyn didn’t strike him as a woman who would enjoy being surprised, but there was a very genuine and poignant reason behind the plan so she’d hopefully play along.
‘Is that what you’re wearing?’
‘What’s wrong with it?’ She tugged a baggy grey jumper over her black leggings.
‘Don’t people usually dress up for New Year’s parties? I thought I might put a suit on.’ He grinned. ‘Not the white one.’
‘It’s not a fancy do at some posh hotel, so I don’t think we need to worry.’
Gage racked his brains for another way to persuade her to change. Were the others having as much trouble with their better halves? ‘I thought you might wear your new dress.’
After their Boxing Day lunch at Becky’s, he’d been dragged along to the sales in Truro. He’d talked Tamara into letting him buy her a stunning deep-red silk dress that clung to all his favourite places.
‘I’d love to show you off in it. Shallow, I know, but that’s me. I promise I’ll make it a very happy start to the new year when we get back.’
‘Fine.’ She sounded slightly exasperated, but he could live with that. ‘Actually I’d quite fancy seeing you in a proper suit.’
‘You mean you don’t fancy me out of one?’
‘Begging for compliments again?’ Her finger trailed down his chest. ‘Wear it and see what happens.’
‘It might not fit.’ Gage patted his stomach. ‘All those Cornish pasties have taken a toll on my six-pack.’
Tamara’s husky laugh stirred him. ‘Let’s put it this way — if you can’t squeeze into yours, I’m not wearing mine either.’
He conceded with a weak smile. ‘It’s at the flat. I’ll go change.’
‘You do that. I’ll walk down and pick you up en route.’
‘In heels?’
She snorted. ‘Ye of little faith.’
Deceiving Tamara still felt wrong, but he couldn’t break the promise he’d made to Quinten. Evelyn’s original plan for a small spring wedding might’ve worked if Ophelia hadn’t deteriorated so obviously over the past month, despite her stalwart efforts to appear bright and engaged during the Christmas festivities. Quinten’s idea to pull off a surprise New Year’s Eve wedding had faltered when he’d discovered both partners needed to sign the necessary documents at the register office for their intention to marry. Then there was a mandatory minimum twenty-eight-day wait. Twenty-eight days they might not have.
They also couldn’t marry anywhere other than at a legally approved venue and Nathan’s house wouldn’t count. Quinten had decided the lift it would give Ophelia to see her sister happily remarried was worth a little deception, which was when he’d enlisted Melissa and Nathan’s help. Ophelia need neverfind out this ‘wedding’ wasn’t actually legal, and later the couple could pay a quiet visit to a register office to make it official.
Gage had just finished knotting his tie when a message popped in from Tamara. It instructed him to come down to join her because she didn’t intend to risk her ankles by climbing up to meet him. He checked his appearance in the mirror and smoothed down his newly shorn hair. She’d grumbled after their shopping expedition when he’d insisted on getting a haircut, and had been only slightly mollified when he’d instructed the stylist not to go too short. Compromise. A learning curve for them both. He locked up the flat and headed down.
‘Right, are we ready to...’ His throat turned drier than the Sahara Desert.
‘I knew the dress was too much. I should’ve put a proper coat on too instead of this silly thing.’ Tamara tugged at the gossamer-fine gold wrap that partially covered the creamy skin exposed by the daring dress underneath.
‘Too much? You’re gorgeous. So out of my league, I can’t imagine why you’re with me, but I’m not arguing the toss now.’
‘Wise man. You’re pretty hot yourself.’ She eyed him hungrily, and it wouldn’t have taken much to change his mind and whisk her off to bed. ‘That isn’t an off-the-peg suit. Let me guess, it’s a designer number from your days as Tori G’s arm candy?’
Gage turned the same deep crimson as her dress. Neither of them accepted compliments well. ‘Let’s go see in the new year in style.’
