Libby blinked back the stinging behind her eyes; he would not see her cry.
‘Just leave,’ she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.
‘I … look … Libby, would you mind if … ?’ He trailed off and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling for a moment, as if searching for the right words. Libby’s frown smoothed out and she put her head to one side as she watched the tips of his ears turn pink again. ‘Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night? I mean … without Rosie … not that Rosie’s not great, but I … I … well …’ She had never heard him sound so unsure of himself; it was almost endearing. Almost.
‘You want to take me out … on a date?’ Libby asked in confusion.
‘Well, yes,’ he told her. ‘Yes. If you want to …’
Libby glanced over at the tousled sofa. She hadn’t been expecting that. An attempt to get into her knickers, yes, but not some sort of formal date invitation.
‘Dr Grantham, I – ’
‘Libby,’ Dr Grantham groaned, a pained expression on his face. ‘Please, baby. Turn me down for a date. Kick me in the nuts – God knows I deserve it. Tell me to bugger off. Butpleasedon’t call me Dr Grantham ever again.’ He moved into her personal space and took her face in his hands, resting his forehead on hers for a moment. ‘Please, Libby,’ he whispered against her mouth.
‘Please what?’ she whispered back, feeling like she was going to pass out as a rush of adrenaline shot through her system.
‘What’s my name?’
‘I –’
‘Baby, what’s my name?’ His voice had dropped to a whisper-growl and Libby felt her ovaries jump in response.
‘Jamie,’ she whispered, and a slow smile spread across his face before he pressed his mouth to hers in a brief kiss and pulled back. It took a good thirty seconds for Libby to recover once she was standing on her own. She felt her cheeks flood with heat and tucked her hair behind her ears.
‘Could you give me a chance?’ he pleaded. ‘You don’t know how sorry I am for the way I’ve behaved. It doesn’t even have to be dinner and I –’
‘I guess I could get Kira to babysit,’ she told him, clearing her throat when her voice came out hoarse.
The corners of Jamie’s gorgeous eyes crinkled as his smile cranked up another notch. He leaned forward as if he was going to kiss her again, but checked himself at the last minute and gave her an awkward shoulder pat instead.
‘Great,’ he told her, shoving his hands in his pockets. The tips of his ears were burning pink again and the sight managed to make the corners of Libby’s mouth turn up almost involuntarily. They stood there smiling at each other like a couple of weirdos for a full minute before Libby’s eyes flicked over to Rosie’s door.
‘I’d better get Beauty then, and head off.’
Libby nodded and they both moved to Rosie’s bedroom together, that current shooting up her arm again as she brushed against him. When they opened the door it was to find a sound-asleep Beauty taking up most of Rosie’s bed, with the little girl snoring into her fur.
‘Crap,’ groaned Jamie. ‘She’s a bugger to move when she’s like this.’ He went over to the side of the bed and gently prised Rosie away from the huge mound of fur, before slipping his arms under Beauty’s front legs and attempting to lift her. When he staggered back slightly, Libby shot forward to grab Beauty’s back end and they both hobbled out with the massive dog between them into the living room.
‘Can’t you wake her up?’ Libby puffed, stumbling as she lost her grip on the mountain of fur.
‘Not a good idea,’ Jamie muttered darkly.
‘Jesus, she smells like socks and arse.’
Jamie huffed out a laugh. ‘She’s not too partial to water; goes ballistic when I try to shower her.’
‘Who’s the boss out of the two of you?’
‘Oh, her, definitely her.’
Libby giggled and got another mouthful of arse-smelling hair as they started moving towards the door. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be leader of the pack or something?’ It was strange how incongruous this dog was with Jamie’s perfectly controlled life. Libby remembered Jamie’s story about the rescue centre again and it dispelled some of the regret she had for accepting the dinner invitation. Maybe he was a bit stuck-up but he was kind. His attitude to Rosie had proved that already.
Jamie snorted. ‘This dog is a sociopath. In her world she reigns supreme. Look, if you give her butt a shove up here I can …’ He hefted Beauty up more securely into his arms with an impressive bulging of his biceps against his T-shirt, which, despite the smell in her nostrils, still managed to give Libby a punch in the ovaries. ‘You can let go now,’ he told her, and she took a cautious step back. Luckily Beauty stayed suspended up against his chest. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’
‘Oh … uh …’ Libby swallowed and tucked her hair behind her ears again. To say she was rusty with the whole dating thing was a massive understatement, seeing as she’d never actuallydonethe whole dating thing (unless a few fumbles behind the back of the local Co-op and a very unsatisfactory introduction to sex in the damp basement of her teenage sperm donor’s parents’ house counted). Somehow going out to dinner with a grown man seemed almost ludicrous. She’d spent most of her adult life fending off male attention, either at the club or at uni, with the small percentage of guys who thought thatsingle teenage mumwas code forrampant slut. ‘Uh …’
‘Libby,’ Jamie’s voice was now strained and she could see a slight tremor running through his arms as he continued to hold up the dead weight of Beauty between them, ‘I don’t want to sound wet, but if I don’t run this dog down to the car in the next ten seconds I think I’ll be getting renal failure from rhabdomyolysis.’
