Despite the flatness of her tone, he could hear the disappointment in her words, and as guilt swept through him his conscience suddenly started prodding at him. All she was suggesting was supper. Surely he could manage that. He always had before. Where was this idea that Celia somehow posed a threat to him coming from anyway? It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.
‘Wait,’ he said, hearing a rustling sound and guessing she was about to hang up.
The rustling stopped. ‘What?’
He sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. ‘Look, let me see what I can do.’
‘Really?’
He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself that it was only supper. ‘Really,’ he said. ‘What I had planned shouldn’t be too difficult to get out of.’ Which was true seeing as the only thing he had in his schedule was a night in front of the TV with his laptop.
‘Won’t she mind?’
At the hint of waspishness in her voice, Marcus found himself opening his eyes and smiling faintly. ‘She won’t mind at all.’
‘One of these days you’re going to come up against someone who does.’
As the memory of his ex flashed into his head he shuddered, his smile vanishing. ‘Not in my plans.’ He sat back and idly flicked through one of the colour supplements. ‘And anyway, what was that you were saying about learning to communicate without the sarcasm?’
There was another pause. ‘Fair enough,’ she muttered eventually. ‘Sorry. O
ld habit.’
‘If it’s too tricky to resist, I’m more than happy to join in. I might even find myself having to make some kind of comment about the fact that you’re willing to sacrifice a night’s work for supper with me.’
She huffed, all contrition gone. ‘You’ve made your point, Marcus.’
‘Have I?’
‘For the moment.’
‘Until the next time you forget.’
‘Until then,’ she conceded after a moment.
‘So, shall we say seven?’ he said, thinking that that gave him enough time to throw up at least a few barriers.
‘Sounds perfect,’ she said.
‘Although maybe it would be better if you came over here.’
‘Why?’
‘You don’t cook and I’ve seen the state of your fridge.’
She hummed. ‘Another point well made.’
‘See you later, Celia.’
‘I’m looking forward to it.’
As they hung up and the prospect of having Celia in his house, a mere floor away from his bed, sank in Marcus thought that she might be looking forward to tonight, but he wasn’t. At all.
ELEVEN
‘Something smells good,’ said Celia, inhaling deeply as she stepped into Marcus’ house just past seven and thinking that she wasn’t just talking about the delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen.
Not that how heavenly he smelled or how gorgeous he looked was of any interest, of course. No. Tonight was purely about finding out what made him tick. Revealing a bit about how she ticked. Laying the foundations for a solid, long-term, platonic relationship. If she focused on that, she should be all right and wouldn’t make any more mistakes about which things smelled or looked good.