Page 70 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
He shook his head.
‘Oh, come on. I can see it in your eyes. You’re dying for another. Just take it.’
‘They’re for you.’
‘And I choose to share them with you. So just take the bloody chocolate, will you?’
‘Aww, that was all romantic there for a second. And then it kind of went downhill.’
‘I notice you took the chocolate though.’
‘I always do what I’m told when it comes to women.’
I gave a bark of laughter. ‘Now that I most definitely don’t believe.’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t mean in a spineless jelly kind of way.’
‘Obviously.’
‘I mean … sometimes it’s just nice. You know?’
‘I guess.’ I couldn’t remember the last time Paul had gone along with one of my suggestions. He’d always ended up twisting it a little until it became something he wanted to do. And for some reason, I’d let him.
‘And to answer your question, no. I don’t think anything about your previous relationship apart from that the guy was a dick and didn’t deserve you anyway.’
‘Thanks.’
He shrugged. ‘True.’
‘I think I might put these flowers upstairs in the bedroom. I was looking for something to finish it off. These would be perfect.’
‘Finish it off?’
‘Yes. I did some work on it. The guest room.’
‘Can I see?’
‘Oh!’
Gabe looked hesitant. ‘Sorry. Was that an odd request? I’m just interested in what you’ve done. You’ve clearly got an eye for these things.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m just … interested,’ he repeated. ‘Why? Is that weird?’
‘No! No, not at all. Well. A little. I mean, to me!’ I said, holding my hands out. ‘I’m just not used to someone saying that, I guess. Other than my brother and Carrie, of course.’
‘Surely it can’t have been that long.’
From the way his expression changed, I assumed my face had given him the answer.
‘Oh, Holly.’
I flapped my hands. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘All pitying and stuff. It’s fine! And to be honest, it’s not like I’ve really done a lot in a long time for anyone to be particularly interested in, aside from work.’
‘Well, that there sounds a bit sad in itself.’
‘You can hardly talk. You practically live at that hospital! If you didn’t, you might actually have a real girlfriend and then none of this – me – would be necessary!’
