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Summer Of Love. Sophie PembrokeЧитать онлайн книгу.

Summer Of Love - Sophie  Pembroke


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spines of some old favourites, remembering rainy afternoons curled up in Cora’s window seat, reading together. Until she got bored, of course, and begged Cora to come find something more interesting to do.

      Lily sighed. Maybe that was the reason everyone saw her as the troublemaker. Limited attention span. Often resulted in mischief.

      That, at least, was one thing she could say had changed for the better over the last decade. Precious metals and gemstones required patience; she couldn’t rush them. She’d learnt that quickly enough, when it became obvious she’d bankrupt herself before she even started if she didn’t slow down, learn what she was doing first. She’d practiced for hours, days, months with less expensive materials, until she felt confident enough to risk shaping and setting the more valuable ones.

      But her patience had paid off. She just had to look at the ring on Cora’s left hand to remember that.

      ‘I never took you for much of a reader.’ She might not have recognized his body, but Alex’s voice behind her sent an instant shiver of familiarity through her.

      Turning slowly to face him, she shrugged. ‘I like books. I like adventures.’

      ‘Reading about them or having them?’ Alex leant against the doorframe, looking too broad, too dark, too handsome for Cora’s girlish room.

      ‘Both.’ Lily tipped her head to one side and took the opportunity to really look at him, to catalogue the changes ten years had wrought in him. No longer a slender, pretty boy. He’d broadened out, become sturdier, rougher. Hotter. ‘It’s good to see you again, Alex.’

      ‘I wasn’t sure you’d recognized me.’ Hands in the pockets of his perfectly cut grey trousers, Alex cast a sheepish look at the carpet. ‘To be honest, I didn’t realize it was you until Cora told me. You’ve changed.’

      ‘Ten years will do that to a girl.’

      ‘Has it really been that long?’

      Lily just nodded. No reason for him to remember, but she’d never forget. The last time she’d seen Alex, he’d been dropping her home after the Glastonbury debacle. His parting words – ‘Chin up. You wanted to go, you had fun. Own your decision and face the consequences.’ – had been the only thing to get her through the next two weeks of misery with her mother. And they’d stayed with her since. Somehow, some words of advice from a guy only four years older than her, a wise and worldly twenty at the time, had become a guiding principle in her life.

      ‘Cora tells me you’re moving home,’ she said instead, backing up against the whitewashed desk as Alex came into the room.

      ‘Well, back to Felinfach, at least. Mum and Dad’s old cottage is a bit ramshackle, but…’ He shrugged, a smile twisting at his mouth. ‘I always had an affection for the place.’

      ‘I heard about your dad,’ Lily said, remembering abruptly. ‘And your mum, last year. I’m sorry. I always liked them.’

      ‘I think Dad had a bit of a soft spot for you, too,’ Alex replied. ‘He always liked someone who did what was right for them and damn the consequences.’

      Lily tried to smile. Was that how Alex remembered her? She wasn’t sure she could still remember that girl, these days.

      ‘So you’ve come to sort out all our money troubles?’ At least she’d remembered he was in finance. Faced with the reality of Alex Harper, facts were harder to hold onto. God, if she’d thought him crush-worthy at twenty, it couldn’t compare to him at thirty. Not that he’d ever thought of her at all. Or remembered her, apparently.

      ‘Actually…’Alex glanced away, then looked back, his eyes sharper. ‘I’ve got some new plans. A new direction, so to speak.’

      Which sounded interesting. ‘Care to elaborate?’

      He shook his head. ‘Not yet. Not until I’m sure where it’s going.’

      She thought about pressing him for details, but from the way he darted aside, looking away, it was pretty clear he didn’t want to talk about it.

      Alex sat on the bed, looking even more out of place against the pink ruffles, and patted the duvet beside him. ‘Come on, then. Catch me up. How’s the last decade been for you?’

      ‘I don’t know where to start.’ Lily left a good few inches between them when she sat. Somehow, she had a feeling being alone in a bedroom with Alex wasn’t a situation girls normally got out of with all their clothes intact.

      ‘How about telling me about your fiancé.’

      ‘Fiancé?’ Alex nodded at her left hand, and Lily blinked down at the ring she hadn’t designed. ‘Oh, that. Yeah. It’s… complicated.’

      Alex raised an eyebrow. ‘Did he ask you to marry him?’

      ‘At the top of the Eiffel Tower on Valentine’s day.’ Lily sighed, remembering the way the other diners had stopped and stared when he got down on one knee, even as three other men were doing the same at other tables. They’d all had their pictures taken together afterward. It was, by far, the most conventionally romantic proposal ever conceived. Which was Edward all over. He knew the conventional, appropriate thing to do for every situation. And he did it, every time. Her mother thought that made him the perfect man. Lily had a horrible, growing suspicion that all it made him was predictable.

      No, not predictable. Steady. Reliable. Dependable. All good things. She liked that Edward was the steady one. His steady job meant that she could pursue her dream career. Having Edward as a calm centre in her life made it easier for her to resist the flights of fancy and impulsive ideas she’d been so prone to as a teen. And when she was having a panic about the shop, or her mum, or life in general, Edward was the one to sit her down, stroke her back and remind her that everything was going to be okay. That she could cope.

      Edward made her a grown up, and that was a good thing.

      ‘And did he give you this ring?’ Alex asked, interrupting her thoughts.

      The ring, however, was still a sore spot.

      ‘Unfortunately.’ He frowned at her answer, and she felt compelled to explain, ‘I’m a jewellery designer.’

      Alex winced. ‘Ah. He didn’t think you’d want to design your own?’

      ‘No.’ She really needed to stop sounding so bitter about that. She shook her head. ‘It’s okay. I understand. He wanted to have a ring to give me when I said yes, and wanted to choose it himself. It’s romantic.’

      ‘If you say so. Anyway, that aside, and this is the crucial bit: when he asked, and when he gave you this ring – did you say yes?’

      No real way out of that one. ‘Yes. But…’

      ‘No buts. What, are you going to be one of those couples who get engaged but never get around to getting married?’

       What would be so wrong with that? Why not just carry on the way things are, happy and content. Why does it have to be a big thing?

      But then Lily thought about the way her mother was already planning the perfect day in her head, and the catalogues of invitation samples Edward had started leaving around the flat. It was a big thing to them. ‘Apparently not.’

      ‘Why would you want to be?’ Alex’s eyes were wide and disbelieving.

      Oh, honestly. Talk about a double standard. ‘Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be sprinting the other way if someone told you that you had to get married this summer. The way Cora tells it, you’ve been running around with every single woman in the Greater London area for the last decade.’

      ‘Maybe I’m ready to settle down.’ The words were casual, but Alex’s eyes were serious.

      ‘Really? That’s why you moved home?’ Of course it was. Why else would he leave the bright lights and bonuses of the City? God, she was an idiot. Lily bit the inside of her lip.


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