Snowflakes on Silver Cove: A festive, feel-good Christmas romance (White Cliff Bay Book 2) (29 page)

‘I’m quite glad we didn’t sleep with each other last night too,’ he said, visibly shivering. ‘Because if we had, I’d be like this right now.’ He suddenly knelt in the water, the waves sloshing over his thighs and threw his arms round her legs, leaning his head against her hips. ‘Please sleep with me again, please, please, just one more time, please. I’ll pay you, PLEASE!!!’

Libby couldn’t help but laugh as he rubbed his head against her side, much like a cat would do.

‘PLEASE, LIBBY, PLEASE.’

‘There’s nothing quite like quiet desperation, and there’s nothing quiet about that.’

He looked up at her. ‘I know, it’s quite pathetic, isn’t it.’

‘Very.’

He stood up. ‘You’re my best friend, Lib, and I like our friendship, that we would drop anything and everything to be by the other’s side. I like that when you sleepwalk you come to me, as if subconsciously you feel you’re safest with me. I like that our friendship has deepened to the extent that we can now cuddle in bed, and OK, maybe the kissing is… was pushing the boundaries a bit, but I sort of liked that too… didn’t you?’

‘But…you just said it was a horrible drunken mistake.’

George looked horrified. ‘Not kissing you, I could never regret being with you. I was talking about Cerys. She tried to sleep with me last night, it was an absolute disaster.’

‘Oh.’ Libby’s heart leapt at his answer, at her mistake. ‘What happened?’

‘She started kissing me, started taking it in that direction and… I didn’t want her. I actually realised that I didn’t want to be with her before we even went on the date and I probably should have stopped it then.’

Her heart went out to him, knowing how much he had been looking forward to it. ‘Oh George, I’m sorry. What happened?’

‘Well amongst other things, she called me fat and that filled me with no end of confidence, let me tell you.’

‘You’re not fat, George, not at all,’ she protested.

‘I’m hardly a Peter Andre with a perfect six-pack though, Lib.’

‘You’re not fat,’ she muttered defensively. What an absolute cow. She had to say something to turn this around. ‘Besides, six-packs are overrated. Most women don’t go in for that sort of thing any more, it just screams that you’re trying too hard, that you’re self-obsessed. I like your shape, that’s who you are. You are very attractive, don’t ever think otherwise. And you give the best hugs, I love hugging you, it’s sturdy.’

He smiled. ‘Anyway, I just kept thinking about you, what you said about her loving me for who I am and I realised that she wasn’t the person I wanted to be with.’

‘Oh George, what did she say?’

‘Well, she was a bit upset, but she wants to try again tonight. I can’t think of anything worse. She actually said she’d bring some Viagra. I’m going to call her later and cancel.’

Libby was silent for a moment, watching the waves as they swept past them. ‘And… what about what happened with us?’

‘We kissed?’

She bit her lip. ‘You kissed me, admittedly I did kiss you back, but you certainly instigated it.’

George looked down. ‘In your flat?’

‘And in my bed.’

His face went bright red.

‘You do remember.’

‘I… also remember making love to you in your bed. As that definitely didn’t happen, I wasn’t so sure about the kissing.’

‘It was a bit more than just a kiss, George.’

He looked down, colour flooding his cheeks.

‘So… was it just a silly drunken kiss, or was it something more?’ Libby asked.

George stared at her, but no words seemed forthcoming.

‘Was it because you like me… as something more than just friends?’

He opened his mouth to speak but then looked away.

He didn’t feel the same, he just didn’t know how to tell her. She swallowed the pain of the rejection. ‘Are you going to see her again?’

‘No. I can’t say last night was a huge success, there were plenty of awkward silences, she seemed to lack any sort of sense of humour and there was quite a lot about me she didn’t like. And the chemistry was awful. Then there’s you, my favourite person in the whole world. There’s no comparison between spending time with you and spending time with her. The few minutes I spent with you last night were much more enjoyable than my whole date with Cerys.’

Libby swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Hope bloomed in her heart. ‘What does that tell you?’

‘I… don’t know, I… the thing about olives is when you first try them they’re disgusting, but when you keep eating them, you start to develop a taste for them. With chocolate. I could eat chocolate all day, every single day for the rest of my life and never get tired of it.’

George looked confused by his own analogy and Libby wasn’t any closer to understanding him either.

‘You should be with someone who makes you laugh, who loves every little thing about you, who wants to make you happy.’
Someone like me.

‘You’re right.’

She reached up to touch his face. ‘I want you to be happy, George; more than anything I want that for you. And when you find the person who makes you happy, who you love, grab hold of her with both hands and don’t let her go. Don’t settle either. She has to be perfect for you in every way. It has to be her mission in life to make you as happy as you make her, and don’t accept anything less.’

George nodded as he looked down at her and for one glorious moment she was sure he was going to kiss her.

B
ut whether George
would have kissed her or not, Libby would never find out. At that second with her hand still on his face, his mouth just centimetres from her own, Jack chose that moment to gallop between them, obviously curious as to what they were both doing standing in the sea. With his nose in her crotch, and then slamming his wet bum into George, the dog bounced out of the waves onto the beach and then back to them, bringing his ball for them to throw.

Libby stepped back from George, their moment – if indeed there was one – completely broken. She took the ball and threw it down the beach, and Jack tore after it.

She looked up the beach in the direction of the pub to see Amy and Seb walking towards them, holding hands. It filled her heart to see it.

George was already making his way back onto the beach. He stopped to see if Libby was coming and held out his hand for her, a peace offering. She took it and he pulled her gently in his wake as he struggled through the waves, though once safely back on the beach, he let her go.

They walked towards Amy and Seb.

‘Sorry about him,’ Seb said, gesturing towards Jack who was lumbering back up the beach towards them. ‘He has no discretion.’

‘Yes, I hope he didn’t interrupt anything,’ Amy said, looking meaningfully at Libby.

Libby shook her head, staring at Amy with equal weight. ‘No, not at all, we were just discussing George’s date with Cerys.’

The look of disappointment that crossed Libby’s face was obvious and Amy looked at her, seemingly trying to convey her thoughts without a single word. Libby knew what she was thinking.
Why the bloody hell is he going out with Cerys and not you?

‘Cerys Andrews, George? She has very high standards,’ Seb said.

‘So?’ Libby said, suddenly angry. ‘Are you saying that George can’t meet those standards, any woman would be lucky to go out with him and—’

‘Easy, Lib, I wasn’t saying that at all. I was diplomatically trying to say she’s a complete cow. And in my opinion, George, you can do a hell of a lot better than Cerys.’ Seb’s eyes flittered to Libby for a moment, but when George failed to notice the meaningful stare in her direction, Seb walked away shaking his head.

Amy hurried to catch up with Seb, taking his hand again, but looked back sadly at her friend as she walked.

Libby watched them go, walking towards the far end of the beach, where it sloped gently up into a small cliff that jutted out into the sea. She looked back to George.

‘I’m going to call her, finish it with her,’ he said.

Libby’s heart leapt with joy.

George was already taking his phone out of his pocket. ‘She’s not the woman for me; I can do better, a lot better.’

He dialled Cerys’ number. Libby took his hand and squeezed it encouragingly as it rang.

He put the phone on loudspeaker.

Cerys answered. ‘Hello?’

‘Hi it’s me, it’s George.’

‘Hello.’

Libby couldn’t help thinking how cold Cerys’ voice was.

‘Look… about tonight, I… don’t think it’s a good idea…’

‘Are you dumping me?’ Her voice was incredulous, angry.

‘I just… don’t think we’re good together,’ George said, pushing his hair nervously off his face.

‘Well, we would have been if you could have got it up,’ Cerys said, sulkily.

Libby opened her mouth to protest, but George clamped his hand over her mouth.

‘It’s not just the sex though, Cerys, it’s the whole package. I want to be with someone who can make me laugh, someone I can be myself with, someone who actually likes me.’ He eyed Libby and smiled.

He was talking about her, about being with her. To distract George from her heart beating so loudly, Libby poked her tongue through the gap in his fingers and he looked at her in disgust. She snorted with suppressed laughter and he clearly had to bite back the laughter as well.

‘I like you,’ Cerys said, quietly, and Libby saw George swallow. She just hoped he wasn’t going to change his mind.

‘Cerys, it’s taken me a long time to realise that I actually have something worthwhile to offer a woman. That the package I come in is actually a good one. You’re too hung up on the little things: my hair, my clothes, my shoes, my weight. If you like me, you should like all of me, you should be able to see past those things, and see the person on the inside.’

‘I do, George, I like you.’

‘Well, what if I don’t want to change those things – what if I keep my hair long, don’t lose any weight, wear what I want to wear. Would you still like me then?’

Cerys hesitated, long enough for Libby, at least, to see the truth behind her words. ‘Yes of course.’

‘Cerys, I hope you find him, your Mr Perfect. But I don’t think he’s me.’

And with that George hung up.

Libby smiled with admiration; as dumping went, that was one of the nicest. He had managed to do it without insulting Cerys once.

He shoved his phone in his pocket and finally released her mouth, wiping his hand on his jeans.

‘You’re my Mr Perfect,’ Libby said, without even thinking about it first. And then it was out there, and there was nothing she could do to get it back.

But he hadn’t even noticed, his eyes were on a truck that had just pulled up outside their flats.

Suddenly a huge grin spread on his face and he grabbed her hand and ran towards it singing, ‘
Two days before Christmas, my true love gave to me…
’

As they drew level, she gasped. Being wheeled down the ramp at the back was a shiny, gleaming red Ducati.

‘It’s a rental,’ he said, quickly. ‘We have it for a week. I thought as you’ve helped me to get back in the saddle I could do the same for you.’

‘Oh my God, George. That’s fantastic… terrifying but fantastic,’ she said in awe, as she lovingly caressed the bike. ‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, she is.’

Libby stared at it in wonder for a few moments. A huge lump formed in her throat and she looked back at George. In that moment, she knew without doubt that she was in love with him, completely, unequivocally head over heels in love. Whereas before she thought she might be falling in love with him, she had now fallen, and there was no climbing back out the other side. He was the most beautiful, kindest, sweetest man she ever had the fortune to know. Why had she never seen this before, why had it taken six months, why had it taken these dates over the last few days, that kiss, this unbelievably kind gesture for her to realise it? She loved him. And this huge realisation literally took her breath away.

‘Well come on, I didn’t rent it so you can stand there staring at me. Are you going to ride it or what?’ George passed her the helmet.

‘Yes, of course, but…’ Libby leaned forward to hug him, and closed her eyes as he hugged her back. ‘Thank you, this is so kind of you. Now listen, I want to tell you something…’

‘My pleasure.’ He pulled back from the hug. ‘You’ve given me so much confidence over the last few days, and you’re right, I shouldn’t settle – aim high, eh? I’m going to do it, Lib, I’m finally going to ask out the woman of my dreams.’

Libby’s heart soared. The woman he had kissed so passionately in bed the night before? The girl who made him laugh, the one he had dumped Cerys for?

He stared at her and a look of fear crossed his face.

George’s eyes slid past her to the entrance of the flat. ‘Excuse me.’ He left Libby and ran up the steps to greet Giselle.

Libby stared in horror. What had just happened? The very moment she had realised she loved him, completely, the moment she was just about to tell him how she felt, and he was running up the stairs to ask out the woman of his dreams, the woman who wasn’t her. She tried to find her voice to call him back, but he had already reached Giselle, running his hand through his hair nervously.

Selfishly Libby prayed Giselle would say no. Though there was a small part of her that couldn’t bear to see George rejected and hurt, it was overpowered by the part of her brain that was screaming at Libby to march up the steps and snatch him back from Giselle, like a toddler being possessive over a favourite toy.

Say no, say no, say no
, Libby chanted in her mind again and again.

But Giselle was suddenly smiling hugely, her hand on George’s arm as she nodded. Libby watched as she waved goodbye to him, still smiling as if she had been given the best Christmas present ever.

Libby didn’t need to see the huge inane grin on George’s face as he watched her go to know what Giselle’s answer had been. Feeling the tears that were threatening to spill over her eyes, she quickly pulled on her helmet, got on the bike and took off down the road. In her wing mirror, before she disappeared around the corner, she saw George staring after her in confusion, then sadly down at the spare helmet in his hand.

G
eorge paced the lounge
, nervously. It was getting late now and he needed to speak to Libby about his big date tomorrow night. The Christmas ball, the music, the fairy lights, the Christmas decorations. It couldn’t be more perfect. He had spent the whole afternoon up in Giselle’s flat, talking with her, and she was ridiculously excited too. He hadn’t seen Libby since she had taken off up the road. Obviously she was keen to try the Ducati out, but he hadn’t seen her since. Now the excitement he had felt about his date had dwindled into full-blown panic.

He had thought about the disaster that had been his experience with Cerys and started getting scared. He had spent the last few hours studiously reading the homework Libby had given him. He picked his way through all the articles about how to please your woman, the articles on oral sex, and the step-by-step instructions for an array of sexual positions. But now he felt even worse than he did before. Sex had moved on a lot since his time with Josie; it was complicated, messy and a lot more daring than he was used to. He thought about what Libby had said, that she imagined that sex with him would be beautiful. It had given him such confidence to hear her say that. He just had to relax and do what came naturally. But the more he thought about sex, the more worried he became.

He was presuming that the date would even get that far. What if it didn’t?

Just then, Libby pulled up on her bike outside. She took her helmet off and shook her hair out. Inappropriate images of her suddenly flooded his mind.

George’s feelings for her had changed after that kiss. He still loved her, but now it was coupled with an all-consuming desire, a need for her, to have her. Whereas before he had always assumed that making love, kissing her, would never happen between him and Libby, now that they had, or nearly had, he wanted more. It was all he could think of now – that kiss in her bed the night before and how much he wanted it again. His memory of the night before was still woolly. He remembered finally finding the courage to tell her he wanted her, to make love to her. He remembered kissing her, holding her, touching her, trying to let her know how much she meant to him. And then he remembered her stopping him from taking it any further. He couldn’t remember why, but it sure as hell hadn’t been him who had stopped it. He wanted to tell her how he felt for her on the beach but the fact that she had stopped him making love to her filled him with doubt. She had stopped him for a reason. What if that reason was that she simply didn’t return his feelings?

He quickly ran to the door. He had to talk to her. He and Giselle had this wonderful idea for his date and he had to make sure Libby would be happy with it. He was supposed to be taking Libby to the ball but he wanted to see if she would be OK with a last-minute change of plan.

‘Hey…’ George faltered slightly when he realised her face was blotchy as if she’d been crying. He took a step towards her. ‘Where have you been?’

‘I’ve been out on my bike, like you wanted me to. I didn’t realise I had to keep you apprised of my every movement,’ Libby snapped, which completely threw him.

‘I’ve phoned you, you didn’t answer.’

‘My phone is in my flat.’ She turned towards her front door.

‘Are you OK?’

She turned back, her eyes flashing angrily. ‘You’re so fickle, George. You kiss me, you try to sleep with Cerys, and when that doesn’t work, you try to sleep with me. Now you’re going out with Giselle, and judging by the magazine you’re holding with the top ten sex tips, you’re probably going to try to shag her as well. Polly, I’m sure you could try her next, if Giselle doesn’t work out for you. Sally, you told me you were in love with her a few months ago. But then you’re a man, I should expect this from you, any hole’s a goal, eh George?’

Libby stormed away from him and he stared after her for a second before he chased after her.

‘Wait, wait, I don’t understand. What’s your problem?’

‘I have a problem with you kissing me like… like I meant something last night, and then moving on to someone else today.’ She stepped closer and jabbed a finger into his chest. ‘I have a problem with you just using me for practice, refining your skills for someone better.’

‘Libby… I…’

But she was already storming into her flat, slamming the door, and for the first time in six months he heard the flat door being locked behind her.

I
t had been
a weird night and not at all what George had expected to happen when he had woken up with Libby in his arms that morning. Libby had refused to answer her door, and when he and Giselle had gone to the pub together, there had been many people who had given him evil stares for the entire night. In the end they had cut their evening short and decided to go back to his flat so they could talk some more over some hot chocolate.

He looked at Giselle as they walked back along the street. She had been lovely to talk to. He didn’t know why he had been so scared to talk to her for the last week – she was easy-going, friendly, incredibly kind.

He let them into his flat. ‘If you put the kettle on, I’ll make a fire.’

Giselle moved ahead of him into the lounge. ‘Oh.’

And even though he couldn’t see what had made Giselle stop in the doorway, he knew it was Libby. He moved round Giselle and sure enough Libby was curled up on his sofa, fast asleep. She was wearing her pyjamas, and had probably sleepwalked into his flat and then drifted off into a deeper sleep when he wasn’t there to take her back home.