Making Your Mind Up (23 page)

“I don't snore,” Lottie announced from the kitchen doorway.

Tyler had his back to her. When he turned around she tossed back her hair and dazzled him with her most seductive Lauren Bacall smile.

“Excuse me?”

“I don't snore. Promise.
Yooowww
.” The seductive moment was spoiled somewhat by the kitchen door swinging shut behind her, trapping her fingers in the doorjamb.

“Well, I'm glad to hear that.” Tyler expertly flipped the sizzling rashers of bacon in the frying pan; God, he had forearms to die for.

“And I've changed my mind about tonight.” Unobtrusively sucking her pinched fingers—God, that had hurt a
lot—
Lottie said, “This could be our only chance. I think we should go for it.”

“You do?”

“Well, it seems a shame not to. We both know we want to, don't we?”

“Er, hang on…”

“Oh, please! Don't pretend you don't.” Lottie spread her arms and shrugged. “So why shouldn't we?”

Tyler considered this. Finally he said, “Because you're drunk and I'd prefer it if you were sober?”

Lottie was indignant. “Excuse me, that is
so
hurtful! Are you suggesting I'm no good at it when I'm drunk? Because I'll have you know I'm every bit as fantastic in bed when I've had a few drinks as when I'm stone-cold sober!”

“But—”

“It's true,” she exclaimed, sensing that she hadn't yet won him over. “You can ask Mario! Well not now, obviously. Tomorrow you can. I like mine really crispy, by the way.”

That caught his attention. Pausing with the spatula in midair, Tyler said, “
What?
”

“My bacon.” Lottie nodded at the pan, crammed with five rashers. “I like it crispy. Is that two rashers for you and three for me?”

“It's five rashers for me,” Tyler said slowly. “You went to review a restaurant tonight, remember?”

“But we didn't eat. We…kind of left in a hurry. That's where I met Seb again.” Lottie beamed. “You see, he had these
massive
hiccups and I tried to stop them, and then we invented this brilliant diet that's going to make us
millions—
oh well, it's a long story.” Despite her enthusiasm Tyler was looking less than riveted; she hoped he wasn't going to be selfish and try to fob her off with a measly two slices of bacon. “So you see, that's why I'm so hungry. Ravenous, in fact.” Slinking across the kitchen and sliding her arms sexily around Tyler's waist she murmured, “And we need to keep our energy levels up, don't we? Hmm? Don't want to be too weak and racked with hunger pangs to—”

“Lottie.” Tyler turned around as she pressed kisses against his shoulder blades. Disentangling himself from her grasp, he gazed deep into her eyes. “I can't cook if you're going to keep distracting me like this. You're absolutely right. We both need to eat a proper meal. So why don't you go through to the living room and make yourself at home, and as soon as the food's ready I'll bring it through. Does that sound like a good idea?”

“It sounds like a great idea.” Lottie grinned, because he was right; it was the perfect solution. “Can we have fried bread and mushrooms and tomatoes too?”

“All that,” Tyler promised, and the way his mouth curved up at the corners proved too much for Lottie to resist. Teetering up on tiptoe, she kissed him. Entirely his fault for having such a delectable mouth.

“You're gorgeous.” Lottie stroked his lightly stubbled jaw. “We're going to have such a great time. We'll never forget tonight.”

“We certainly won't,” Tyler agreed, still smiling as he shooed her away. “Now off you go. The sooner you stop molesting me, the sooner I'll have this meal cooked.”

And the sooner I can ravish your glorious body
, Lottie thought happily as she managed to locate the kitchen door and simultaneously wiggle her pinched fingers in a flirtatious fashion at Tyler. He grinned and wiggled his own unpinched fingers back at her.

OK, living room. Sofa. Seductive music, oh, yes indeed. Must have seductive music.
Investigating the CD collection, Lottie found an Alicia Keys album and put it on. Then she turned the CD over and put it on again so it would play.

Oh yes. Perfect.
Now, back to the sofa.
Slipping out of her shoes, she arranged herself alluringly against the velvet cushions and made sure her skirt wasn't rucked up. Well, not
too
rucked up; a discreet amount of rucking was allowed. There, when Tyler opened the living room door, he would see her looking elegant, relaxed, and completely irresistible…

* * *

“Lottie.”

“Band-Aid.”

“Lottie, wake up.”

Someone was shaking her. Possibly the same person who'd glued her eyes shut. As the shaking intensified, Lottie rolled over onto her side, wincing as something heavy rolled in tandem and went clunk inside her head. Yuck, her brain.

Slowly she peeled open her eyelids.
Oof, sunlight.

And Tyler. Looking highly amused.

“So you wouldn't call yourself a morning person then.”

Oh God. The events of last night came crashing back, unwanted. Lottie would have given anything to hide her head under the blanket, if only she had one. But she hadn't. He'd left her there all night on the sofa without so much as a tea towel to keep her warm.

“What time is it?”

“Eight o'clock. Time to get up.”

He clearly wasn't planning on being remotely sympathetic. Well, she could hardly blame him for that. Lottie pictured him slaving over a hot stove before finally, triumphantly, bursting into the living room with two plates piled high with bacon, sausages, fried bread, and mushrooms, only to find her asleep on the sofa. Out for the count, basically, after all his hard work.

Not to mention the other promise she'd made him.

Hmm, definitely best not to mention that one. No wonder he was a bit short on sympathy this bright morning.

And hell, it
was
bright.

“I've got a bit of a…a headache.” Shielding her eyes, Lottie peered hopefully up at him. “Would you have any aspirin going spare?”

“Sorry, I don't.” He didn't
sound
sorry. “You can pick some up from the pharmacy later. What's with the Band-Aid anyway?”

“Excuse me?”

“You were asleep. I called your name and you said Band-Aid.”

“Oh.” She remembered now. “I was having a dream. I'd unzipped a banana that wasn't supposed to be unzipped, so I was trying to close it back up again. But then I ran out of tape, so…”

“Hmm.” Tyler raised an expressive eyebrow.

Blushing furiously, Lottie said, “OK, I'm getting up. And I'm really sorry I fell asleep while you were cooking my food. If you didn't throw it away, I'll eat it now.”

“Are you serious?” His dark gray eyes glittered, registering disbelief.

“Of course I am! I'm starving!” It was perverse but true; no matter how hideous the hangover, Lottie's appetite invariably remained as boisterous as a Labrador puppy on a beach.

“I meant do you seriously believe I cooked you a meal last night?”

“Oh. Didn't you?”

“When I knew for a fact you'd be snoring like a buffalo within thirty seconds of hitting that sofa?” Evidently enjoying the look on her face, Tyler drawled, “I made myself a bacon sandwich. It was great. Five rashers of bacon all to myself. And guess what? They were really crispy.”

“So you weren't upset that I fell asleep before…” Lottie couldn't quite bring herself to utter the rest.

“Upset? Are you kidding, the state you were in? Let me tell you, I was counting on it.”

“Oh.”

“One-night stands aren't my style,” said Tyler.

“Right.” Lottie felt very small and very cheap. Last night she'd pretty much announced that she was going to shag him senseless, having taken it completely for granted that it was what he wanted too.

“Especially when we have to work together.”

“Of course. Sorry.” Now she knew how it felt to be regarded as—what was the American expression?—trailer trash. In fact, she was worse than trailer trash. She didn't even have a trailer.

“No need to apologize,” said Tyler. “We'll forget it happened, shall we?”

Oh yes, that was
so
likely.

“OK, I'll make you a quick cup of tea.” He made a move toward the door. “Feel free to use the bathroom. And there's a spare toothbrush on the shelf next to the basin.”

The spare toothbrush that was kept expressly for overnight guests who were too drunk to go home. Hauling herself off the sofa, Lottie said, “Did I really snore like a buffalo?”

Tyler regarded her gravely for several seconds. Finally he said, “That's something only me and my bacon sandwich will ever know.”

* * *

If Tyler had been a short, skinny, weedy type, she could conceivably have borrowed a shirt and a pair of jeans from him. But he wasn't, and he probably wouldn't have loaned her anything anyway.

“Tell me again where you were when you dropped it,” he ordered.

Lottie sighed. “I didn't drop it. The key ring got hooked on the zip of my makeup bag and when I pulled out my makeup bag the key ring just flew off the end. Kind of like a slingshot.”

“OK.” Tyler managed to make it sound like: typical-stupid-bloody-woman. “I guess we just keep looking until we find it.”

Feeling utterly ridiculous in her glitzy black and gold dress and black satin stilettos, Lottie did her best to ignore her raging hangover and get on with the task at hand. She couldn't change her clothes until she could get into the cottage. What's more, when they did finally find her key ring, they then had to drive into Cheltenham and retrieve her car, which was currently parked in the pay parking lot in Montpellier without a pay ticket. That is, if it hadn't already been clamped and towed away.

Last night she and Seb had been scrabbling around on this very pavement searching in the darkness for her keys when Tyler had come along and complicated matters.

This time it was even worse.

A car slowed and a voice called out, “Don't let the ants get away from you. Offer them enough money and maybe they'll stay and be your friends.”

Oh, perfect. Lottie bit back a retort, swept her hair out of her face, and sat back on her heels.

“Mummy! What are you doing?” Nat popped his head out of the passenger window, agog. “Are you really chasing ants?”

“You're so stupid.” Ruby, in the backseat, was scornful. “Of course she isn't. Mummy, why are you still wearing the dress you had on last night?”

Mario grinned. “Good question. I was wondering that myself.”

It was eight thirty and the children, smart in their blue and gray uniforms, were on their way to school.

“I just dropped my keys, that's all,” said Lottie. “I'll see you two later, OK? You don't want to be late for school.”

“I do,” Nat said eagerly.

But Ruby's eyes had already narrowed in Tyler's direction. “What's
he
doing here? And where's your car?” Like a mini Mother Superior she demanded icily, “Where did you sleep last night?”

Oh heavens. Flustered, Lottie blurted out, “Here, of course!”

“So why are you still wearing that dress?”

“Because…well, because I like it! And so many people last night said how nice it was, I thought I'd wear it again today.”

Ruby's mouth was pursed like a cat's bottom. “And your car?”

She'd make a terrifying barrister one day.

“Um…um…” Lottie was floundering badly, too hungover to keep track of what she was saying. “Well…”

“Lottie, we don't have all day,” Tyler broke in. Turning to address Nat and Ruby he said, “Your mother had a few drinks last night and left her car in Cheltenham. She rang me this morning and asked me for a lift to go pick it up. So I turned up here ten minutes ago and as she was coming through the front gate she managed to drop her keys. Which means we're all going to be late for work.”

Nat and Ruby didn't look at Tyler while he was telling them this; they acted as though he didn't exist. In fact, they were so intent on refusing to acknowledge his existence that their eyes were roaming everywhere but in his direction.

“So there you go.” Lottie exhaled with relief when he'd finished. “Happy now?”

“I don't know.” From the back of the car Ruby muttered darkly, “Is it the truth or just another big fat
lie
?”

“Ruby—”

“Is that them over there?” Nat was leaning precariously out of the passenger window, pointing at a rose bush adjacent to the front wall.

Lottie followed the direction of his finger and saw that he was right. There, glinting in the sunlight and jauntily swinging from one of the lower branches, were her keys.

And to think she'd never won anything at ringtoss in her life.

“Thank God for that.” Hastening over to the rose bush, Lottie retrieved the dangling key ring.

Nat said hopefully, “Do I get a reward?”

“Maybe later. Off you go to school now. I need to pick up my car.” Hurriedly she gave each of them a kiss, then tapped her watch and said to Mario, “Miss Batson'll have your guts for garters if they're late for registration.”

“Miss Batson loves me.” Mario was cheerful bordering on smug. “She thinks I'm great. Anyway, I'll just tell her we would have been on time but you were so hungover you couldn't find your car keys.”

“You're all heart. In fact, if you do that, you'll end up with sole custody,” said Lottie. “And it'll jolly well serve you right.”

Still laughing, Mario drove Nat and Ruby off to school. Lottie let herself into Piper's Cottage, changed out of her stupid glittery dress and into white trousers and a plain gray top, and helped herself to a bottle of iced water from the fridge.

“Can you remember where you left your car?” said Tyler as they drove into Cheltenham.

“Of course I can remember!” Lottie was offended. She might not be able to recall
exactly
where she'd left her car, but she knew which parking lot it was in.

“Fine. Just checking. There's a garage up ahead”—Tyler nodded—“if you want to pick up some painkillers.”

Lottie, who had already swilled down three aspirin and a pint of water at home, said heroically, “No thanks. I'm OK.”

Which was, frankly, ridiculous. She'd announced her intention to give her boss the night of his life, been politely turned down
without
even
realizing
it,
and to cap it all had fallen asleep in a drunk heap on his sofa.

Let's face it, what could be less OK than that?

“Your phone,” Tyler prompted as a muffled sound emanated from the handbag at Lottie's feet.

“Morning, gorgeous!” It was Seb, sounding disgustingly chirpy.

“Morning.” Lottie smiled, not feeling overly gorgeous but delighted to hear from him anyway.

“Did you spend the night with that scary boss of yours?”

“I didn't have a lot of choice.”

“I hope he behaved himself. Didn't attempt to take advantage of the situation, force his attentions upon you…”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Lottie hastily pressed the phone hard against her ear to stop his words spilling out.

“But does he have designs on you? After all, he is your boss,” said Seb. “And you do have the most perfect bottom. It can't be easy for him, having to work with—”

“Actually he's here,” Lottie blurted out. “Right next to me.”

Seb laughed. “Lucky him. Anyhow, the reason I'm calling. I want to see you tonight.”

Tonight! Hell. Flattered but not at all sure she could persuade Mario to take Nat and Ruby for a second night, Lottie grimaced and said, “The thing is, I'd need to find a babysitter.”

“Or you could bring the kids along with you.” Seb was unfazed. “There's a fair on Ambleside Common. Would they be up for that, d'you think?”

Would they be up for a trip to the fairground? Was he serious?

“They'd love it. If you're sure you wouldn't mind.” Flustered, Lottie realized that Tyler had stopped at a junction and was waiting for directions. “Sorry. Left, then second right by that blue van. Um, look, I'll ring you back in a bit. We're just picking up the car.”

Seb paused. “This boss of yours. Have you slept with him?”

“No!”

“Did he hear that?”

“Yes,” Tyler replied. “He did.”

“Speak to you later.” Lottie hurriedly ended the call before Seb could cause any more mischief. “Turn left again after the flower shop. Nearly there now.”

“Sounds like you've got yourself a date for tonight.” Tyler's tone was expressionless.

Did he care? Really care? A wave of regret swept through her, because if she had the choice she wouldn't choose Seb. But it wasn't a viable dilemma anyway, was it? She was a mother whose children had taken that decision for her. A squiggle of excitement mingled with fear in Lottie's stomach at the prospect of introducing Seb to Nat and Ruby. What if they hated him as much as they hated Tyler? Aloud she said casually, “Sounds like I have.”

* * *

“No. No way. I can't do it,” Seb declared flatly. “Anything but that.”

“You have to.” Giggling helplessly, Ruby dragged him past the ringtoss. “I'm going to make you go on it.”

Seb dug his heels in like a dog. “
Won't
do it.”

“Why not?”

“You want to know why not? OK, I'll tell you.” Counting off on his fingers, Seb recited, “Number one reason: because I'll scream like a girl. Number two reason: I'll cry like a girl. And number three reason: I'll be sick.”

Nat was busy tugging on his other arm. “You won't. You have to come on it with us. Mum, tell him.”

“You have to,” Lottie told Seb, “because someone has to sit here and look after the stuffed animals, and that really isn't a job for a grown man.”

Seb allowed himself to be hauled off to the Ghost Train, and Lottie settled down on the grass to wait for them. As the lights and colors of the fairground flashed and swirled around her, she breathed in the evocative smells of hot dogs, frying onions, toffee apples, and diesel. It was hard to believe that in less than two hours Seb had won over both her children so effortlessly and completely. Although in truth he had achieved it within two minutes. Somehow there had been that magical spark when she had first introduced him to Ruby and Nat. Being a father himself undoubtedly helped. He was comfortable with them, relaxed and funny and interested in what they had to say. He clearly enjoyed their company but wasn't making the mistake of trying too hard to impress.

And it had worked, beyond Lottie's wildest dreams. The last couple of hours had been a revelation. She hadn't realized it was possible for her children to have this much genuine uncomplicated fun with a man who wasn't their dad.

A lurid lime-green stuffed dinosaur toppled against her knee. Lottie sat it firmly back upright next to the fluorescent orange fluffy spider and the giant purple pig they'd won at the shooting gallery. How Nat's and Ruby's eyes had lit up when Seb had pulled out his wallet and handed each of them a tenner. When she had tried to protest he had insisted, explaining, “Otherwise it wouldn't be fair. Because I'm not stopping until I've won that purple pig.”

Nor had he. As far as Seb was concerned, failure wasn't an option. Even if the cheap, cross-eyed pig had ended up costing him close to fifty pounds. When the stallholder had finally handed it over, Nat had said, “What are you going to call it?” and Seb had replied, “Well, I've got this sister called Tiffany…”

Seb groaned, reappearing with Nat and Ruby in tow. “Oh God, never again. That was scary. There were real ghosts in there.”

“He was frightened.” Nat was proud. “I wasn't.”

“OK, back to the rides. That one.” Seb pointed to the contraption Lottie had been most dreading, the warp-speed upside-down spinny thing.

“I'd love to”—she patted the stuffed toys—“but these need looking after. You lot go. I'll stay here and watch.”

He pulled a face at Ruby and Nat. “Your mum's scared.”

“Honestly,” said Lottie, “I'm not. I
love
upside-down spinny things. I just—”

“I was scared of the Ghost Train,” Seb said patiently, “and look at me. I overcame my fears.”

“But I—”

“It's the children I feel sorry for.” Shaking his head, he turned to Ruby and Nat. “Children, I feel sorry for you. What must it be like to have a mother who's a wimp?”

“I
told
you,” Lottie protested. “Someone has to look after everything we've won.”

“Exactly.
Someone
does.” Seb gathered up the fluffy spider, the lurid dinosaur, and the purple pig. Marching over to the warp-speed upside-down spinny thing, he flashed a disarming smile at a couple of young teenage girls, exchanged a few words with them, and handed over the toys. Returning, he said, “But it doesn't have to be you.”

After the upside-down spinny thing came the Tilt-A-Whirl, the Scrambler, and the bumper cars. By ten o'clock they'd been on every ride at the fair, won many more stuffed toys, and eaten far too many toffee apples, cotton candy, and fries with curry sauce.

“That was brilliant.” Ruby heaved an ecstatic sigh as they made their way back across the field to where they'd left the car. “Thanks, Seb.”

“Thank
you
,” Seb replied gravely, “for looking after me on the Ghost Train.”

“Can we go out again soon?” Nat gazed eagerly up at him.

Lottie winced in the darkness; seven-year-olds could be alarmingly direct. Even if it was a question she was interested in hearing the answer to herself.

“The thing is, I don't know if your mother would like that,” said Seb.

“Why not? She would!”

“She might have decided she doesn't like me.”

Nat was incredulous. “She wouldn't! She does like you, don't you, Mum?”

“See?”
demanded Seb when Lottie hesitated, floundering around for a reply. “She's trying to be polite because she doesn't want to hurt my feelings, but I think she's secretly in love with another man.”

“Who?”
Ruby's eyes were like saucers.

Seb lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “Tyson, is that his name? Her boss.”

“Noooo!” Nat let out a howl of disdain. “She doesn't like him. We won't let her.”

“His name's Tyler,” Ruby chimed in with relish. “And we hate him.”

“Ruby,” Lottie protested.

“Well we
do
.”

“Your mum might not like me,” said Seb. “We don't know yet, do we? I mean, has she said anything to you?”

Ruby, her eyes bright, replied helpfully, “When we asked her what you were like she said very nice.”

“Well, that's a start.”

“And good-looking.”

Oh great
, thought Lottie.

“I'm flattered.” Seb ruffled Ruby's hair. “But she still might secretly hate me.”

“She doesn't. Mum,” Nat ordered, “tell Seb you love him.”

“Nat,
no
!” Thank goodness it was dark.

“Why not?”

For heaven's sake. “Because…because it just isn't the kind of thing grown-ups
do
.”

“But we can all go out with Seb again. We can, can't we?”

Lottie's skin was prickling with mortification. And Seb was laughing at her, the bastard.

“If it's OK with him, it's OK with me.”

“Result,” Seb crowed, clenching his fists and punching the air.

“Give me a piggyback!” Nat leaped up and Seb expertly caught him on his back, racing off across the field while Nat clung on and let out whoops of delight.

“He's fun,” said Ruby, watching them turn in a wide circle before cantering back. “I really like him.”

“Mm, I can tell.” Lottie's nod was noncommittal, but inside she was experiencing a warm glow.

“My turn,” Ruby shrieked as Nat was tipped to the ground. Seb expertly scooped her up and carted her off.

“I like Seb,” Nat confided, sliding a warm grubby hand into Lottie's. “He's nice. Almost as good as Dad.”

“Yes.” A lump sprang into Lottie's throat. Maybe this time they'd all found the man of their dreams.