Unwrapping Her Perfect Match: A London Legends Christmas Novella (15 page)

“He asked me last night.”

They squealed together and Gwen bent down to
throw her arms around her little big sister. Tears pricked her
eyes. “Oh! How wonderful! You two are so perfect together, and I’m
just...just...”

And then the pricks of tears burst into
floods. Tess pulled back, her expression morphing from shock to
concern to fury in about one second flat. “What did he do to you?
Tell me. If he hurt you, I’ll break his fucking face.”

And somehow that threat made Gwen snort. She
covered her nose, but she couldn’t contain herself. She laughed and
snorted again as the tears streamed down her face. “Don’t do that.
I quite like his face. That’s the problem.”

“Wait, I’m confused. You’re crying because
you like his face?”

“No, I’m crying because he’s going to take
that face to France.”

“Wha—”

“He’s moving to France. He got an offer from
a club there. He’s going at the end of the season.”

A masculine curse came from inside the living
room, and Gwen stuck her head in to find Liam on the sofa looking
dumbfounded.

“He’s moving to France?” Liam asked.

Ah, bollocks.
Gwen cringed. “You’re
probably not supposed to know that.”

“I’m
definitely
not supposed to know
that.” Liam’s head fell back against the sofa cushions. “Arse. Do
you know who he’s going to?”

“To Agnes.”

Liam scrunched up his face, tilting his head
a bit. “Uhh, I don’t know any clubs named Agnes.”

“No, it’s not a club. He’s going there to be
with his daughter. Agnes.”

Liam’s face cleared. “Ah. Is it Toulon?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. Bloody good for him. I mean, terrible
loss for us but I know he’s wanted this for a while.”

Yeah,
Gwen thought.
Bloody good for
him.
She bit her lip and sat on the opposite sofa as Tess
curled up next to Liam. He slid his arm around her shoulder and
tugged her closer, the movement so natural it made Gwen’s own
shoulder feel unnaturally empty. Cold. Bereft of a man’s arm,
comfort and support.

“Congratulations,” she said, meaning it with
her whole—okay, not whole—with all of the pieces of her broken
heart. “I’m so, so happy for you both. How did you do it?”

Liam and Tess shared matching naughty grins,
and Gwen chucked a cushion at them. “I don’t mean it like
that
, you oversexed perverts. I mean how did you pop the
question?”

“It was so sweet,” Tess said, her eyes
shining as she split her attention between her fiancé and Gwen.
“When we went back to Venezuela this summer, we stayed in the same
hotel where we met, and Liam insisted that we take all these photos
of ourselves in the places that meant something to us. Last night
he gave me a photo album he’d made, and the last picture was of us
at this beautiful waterfall—except Liam had got a photographer we
know to superimpose a veil on my head and a bow tie around his
neck. Then he got down on one knee and told me he loved me more
than anything, and he gave me a couple of tickets to go there again
this summer to get married.”

“Liam! You closet romantic you.”

His cheeks turned pale pink. “Yeah, well.
When you know, you know. I figured it out a long time ago, but I
wanted to be sure Tess knew it too.”

When you know, you know.
She’d thought
she’d known. What else could that strange mix of excitement and
comfort mean, if not that she was with a man who would become very,
very special in her life?

Oh, God. Maybe she’d messed up. Maybe she’d
been too hasty and spoken out of panic instead of trust. Maybe
she’d just made the biggest mistake in her life—bigger than The
Incident. Then she’d been guilty of trusting the wrong bloke.
Perhaps now she was guilty of not trusting the right one.

But her fears were still valid. Packing up
her entire life, possibly risking her career, to move to a new
country for someone she’d just met? Even if it wasn’t until May,
she still would only have known him for five months. She’d never
lived outside London, never more than fifteen minutes by bus from
her parents and sister.

Her sister—
she
would’ve done it. Tess
had approximately zero impulse control, and she’d always been a
bright shining example of how snap decisions could explode in one’s
face.

Except one of those snap decisions had
resulted in her meeting lovely Liam.

But there was so much potential to get hurt
here, and Gwen would have only herself to blame. What if she gave
up her job and things didn’t work out? What if—

“Gwen, darling! You’re here.”

Gwen got up to give her mother a hug. “Happy
Christmas, Mum.”

“You too. Did you hear the good news?”

“I did. I’m so chuffed for them.”

Her mum grinned, sneaking a glance at Tess,
the daughter she’d had so much reason to worry about through the
years. “We are too. How about we give them a little privacy now? I
could use some help in the kitchen.”

“Sure.” Gwen followed her mum into the hall,
where her dad chatted with a neighbor who’d dropped by to give them
a bottle of wine. She greeted the neighbor and gave her dad a quick
kiss on the cheek before heading into the kitchen at the back of
the house. “Mum, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, darling.”

Gwen busied herself putting on an apron. “How
long did it take you to figure out that Dad was the one for
you?”

Her mother went quiet, her overly perceptive
gaze burning the back of Gwen’s neck. “Well,” she said, “the first
time we spent a day alone together, I remember thinking that he was
so kind and easy to talk to, and that I hoped I’d marry a man like
him one day.” She laughed. “Isn’t that funny? I’ve no idea why it
didn’t occur to me that I could just marry him.”

Her mum handed her a glass of wine and leaned
closer. “If he asks, though, tell him it was the first time I saw
him in his little rugby shorts. He likes it when I compliment his
arse.”

“Gross, Mum.” Gwen took a sip of chardonnay.
“First date, huh?”

“I believe so, yes. I think that’s quite
special, though. For some people, it takes years.”

A knot tightened in Gwen’s stomach. She
wasn’t one of those people. No, she was the other kind—the kind who
knew deep down but still bollixed it up.

The doorbell rang, and her mum rolled her
eyes. “I don’t know why we have this tradition of exchanging
alcohol with all the neighbors. We’ve got enough chuffing booze
here to open our own off-license. And your dad only drinks lager,
so it’s up to me to pickle my liver trying to get rid of it all by
next Christmas.”

But Gwen’s attention had faded because she
could swear…if she listened hard enough and her mum shut it for
just one moment…

“Gwen, honey,” her dad said from the kitchen
doorway. “You’ve got visitors.”

John sat on the living room sofa twisting his
wooly hat between his fingers. He hadn’t been intimidated when he’d
first met Gwen’s dad in the Legends changing room last year. Back
then, he’d just known the man as Tess’s dad, not someone he had to
worry about impressing—or disappointing.

But when the man had opened the door just
now, John suddenly became a stammering fourteen-year-old. Worse,
he’d remembered the first time Gwen had made him laugh, back when
she’d joked that she called her dad Ewok.

Bloody hell, but he’d nearly slipped and
called the man Ewok himself.

Agnes sat next to him, leaning into him, and
he put his arm around her shoulder as he gave Liam and Tess a nervy
grin.

“So,” Liam said, kicking back all casual, “I
hear
félicitations
are in order.”

John stared at his skipper, racking his
brain. He knew he knew that word; if only he could remember what it
meant. The only word he could think of that was close was fellatio,
but surely Liam wasn’t ordering him some of that.

Fortunately, he had his mini interpreter, and
her skills were swiftly improving. “Con-grad-u-lay-
tions
,”
Agnes said, going slowly over sounds that were unusual for her.

“Oh. Oh, right. Gwen must’ve told you.
Listen, mate—”

Liam held up his hand. “It’s all right. I’ll
start working on my surprised face.”

John smiled a little. “Cheers. Appreciate
it.”

Gwen stepped into the room. “John?”

“Gwen!” He shoved to his feet so quickly that
Agnes lost her balance. Gwen, so lovely with her hair tied back and
confusion on her face. Confusion…and something else too. Something
closed off and guarded. It was the same look she’d given him when
he’d approached her at the auction and when she’d left in a rush
later that week. It had disappeared over the last two days, but now
it was back. His hope sank low in his belly. “Gwen, I—”

A movement caught his eye, making him
suddenly very aware that his captain, his team sponsor, his
daughter, and the parents of the woman he suspected he was falling
in love with all watched him with keen interest.

Gwen cleared her throat. “Everyone out.”

“Come with me, Agnes,” Tess said, holding her
hand out for the girl who already dwarfed her. “Judging by the
scents from the kitchen, I’d say the mince pies are just about
ready.”

“Pie?” Agnes said, breaking out a big
grin.

The crowd left the room, leaving him alone
with Gwen. Her pretty brows slashed low across her eyes, and the
corners of her lips were turned downward. “How’s your head?”

“Please, Gwen, just forget my head for one
second. I’ve got something I want to tell you, but I might not get
it all out in exactly the right way. I have a problem with that.
Talking, I mean. Saying the right thing at the right time. You
might’ve noticed.”

She very kindly didn’t say anything.

He stepped toward her and took her hand,
butterflies making a mess of his gut when she didn’t pull away. She
felt soft and warm, and she fit him here just as well as she did
everywhere else. “Another thing you might’ve noticed—I’m not used
to negotiating. In my job, I’m basically a battering ram trying to
mow down any opposition. I don’t have family nearby who I have to
make compromises or sacrifices for. All of these things are new to
me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn how to do them.”

Her lips trembled, but she stayed silently
looking up at him, her expression still unreadable—to him, anyway.
Maybe someone with more practice at interpreting other people’s
emotions could’ve done it.

He squeezed her hand gently, just grateful
she hadn’t pulled back from him. “The first time you came to my
house, you left in a rush and I didn’t fight hard enough to
convince you to stay. I didn’t know you then, but I know you now.
At least, I know enough that I’m not letting you walk away without
telling you exactly how I feel.”

Her throat flexed as she swallowed. He
squeezed her hand. “Gwen, I’m not the kind of man who finds it easy
to talk about feelings. But you said we’ve both felt that the last
couple of days haven’t been real, that they’ve been a break from
reality. That’s the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

Her lips pressed together so hard they nearly
disappeared.

“This has been the most real two days of my
life. And I know it’s only been two days, but even before that—ever
since I met you at the auction—I haven’t been able to stop thinking
about you. For the first time, I can actually see a future I’m
excited about because there’s a woman I’m excited to spend it with.
You implied I don’t know what your hopes and dreams are, and that I
don’t care enough about you to think about how those dreams fit
with my plans. But that’s not true. Here’s what I know.”

He lowered his head a little. “I know you’re
a gentle woman. I know your heart is the biggest thing about you. I
know you’re a healer who’s been hurt. I know you love your family,
and I strongly suspect you want a family of your own.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. He stepped
closer, so close she had to tip her head back to hold onto his
gaze. He cupped her cheek, stroking his thumb over her lips until
she stopped clamping down and they softened. “Most of all, I know
you’re worth waiting for. Gwen, I’m not here to ask you for
forever. I won’t make you hasty promises or declare feelings that
I’m not sure I feel yet. I panicked earlier when I felt you
slipping away, and I thought you just needed a nudge in the right
direction. I thought if I offered you all-or-nothing, you would
overcome the doubts and hesitation that are holding you back.

“But you’re absolutely right—and I suspect
this won’t be the last time I’m forced to admit it. I asked you to
make some huge sacrifices, and I won’t do that again. Right now,
all I’m asking is that you stick with me for a while and see where
this goes. Because you might’ve felt like none of this was real,
but all I kept thinking was how brilliant it is that I’ve finally
met you, and I want to spend every day getting to know you
better.”

Tears streamed down Gwen’s face, but he had
no idea how to interpret them. He gently swiped one away.
“Sweetheart, are these happy tears or
I-wish-this-guy-would-leave-me-the-fuck-alone tears?”

She gave a stuttering laugh, choking a few
words out. “Happy tears. I really hope that wasn’t the bruise
talking because that was beautiful. I don’t know what the future
holds, John. I can’t promise that I could give up my job and live
that far from my family—”

He crushed her to him, burying his face in
her hair. Taking comfort in her warm embrace. “I know, love. And I
won’t ask you to again. One day at a time. That’s all I ask.”

She pressed up and kissed him so sweetly he
thought his chest might explode. Her hand crept up his belly, up
his chest, until it curled around the nape of his neck and pulled
him even closer. His own hands wandered south to slide over her
bum.