Too Hot to Handle, page 1
TOO HOT TO HANDLE
PORTIA MACINTOSH
For Darcy
Love you, sis.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Thank you!
More from Portia MacIntosh
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by Portia MacIntosh
Boldwood Ever After
About Boldwood Books
1
Some people know that they want to get married – and some people are even lucky enough to know the person they want to spend the rest of their lives with. Some are dead certain that marriage isn’t for them, and then you have the people in the middle, the ones who are unsure.
And therein lies the problem with proposals because, for women in particular, proposals are usually a surprise.
I often wonder how many men pop the question out of the blue. You would think most men would sound a woman out, make sure it was what she wanted, or at the very least lock in a few conversations over the years, so that everyone knows what everyone wants for the rest of their lives. I get it, most men want it to be this big surprise, but it (sometimes literally) keeps me up at night wondering how many men get shot down in public places, for all to see, when a woman says no – or even worse, how many women say yes, because they’re in front of an audience, only to regret it later.
I suppose, in all of the chaos, the proposal itself is probably the best way (or the first step, at least) to figure out if the person asking you is the person you should spend the rest of your life with.
Hear me out.
Some people go all-out with their proposals. It’s a whole, choreographed thing. Flash mobs, firework displays, brass bands literally chilling on the top of a mountain in the Swiss Alps, waiting for the right moment to pop out from their hiding place. But then you have the more subtle ones. A ring being placed on the dinner table, a private walk somewhere scenic, with no one else around. For some people, it’s not about the show, it’s just about the question, and every woman will have her preference, so, how can your partner prove that they are marriage material? By giving you the proposal you want. Not trying to be impressive or flashy or trying to get away with something low effort. Your man should know what you want – whether it’s being plastered on the big screen at a Leeds Lions match, while their mascot rappels into the stadium to Abba’s ‘I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do’ or it’s just a quiet moment over breakfast in bed where you realise there is something twinkling in the light, and it’s a ring attached to a ribbon that is around your dog’s neck.
My point is that there is no one-size-fits-all when it comes to proposals. That said, this one looks pretty perfect to me.
‘So, what do you think?’ Ellis asks me.
He looks good in his suit. I’m used to seeing him in his scruffy work clothes – even his regular clothes usually have flecks of paint or bits of plaster stuck to them – but he’s scrubbed up really well today.
He does look nervous though. I can see a slight shake in his hand, as he holds the ring out in front of him.
He has nothing to worry about. This scene is like something out of a fairy tale. The back garden has been filled with fairy lights, with rose petals scattered everywhere, and there is romantic music playing ever so softly. It’s a warm night, despite summer being on its way out, and there’s just enough breeze to make the rose petals dance to the music. Honestly, it’s perfect.
‘I just…’ My voice catches in my throat. I just can’t get over someone doing something so sweet, going to so much effort, and then putting themselves out there, popping the question, waiting to see if it all pays off. ‘You’re amazing, you know that, right?’
I hold my arms out to beckon Ellis in for a hug. Even he looks like he has a tear in his eye as he gives me a squeeze.
‘I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,’ he says as we hug. ‘And I can’t believe we’ve been able to keep it a secret from Louise for so long either – she’s your best friend, I know the two of you usually tell each other everything. It must be strange, lying to—’
‘Hello?’ a voice calls out from inside the house.
‘Shit, it’s Lou,’ I tell him, letting go of him, practically pushing him back.
‘Shit,’ he repeats back to me.
‘You have to hide,’ I say. ‘Quick, go hide in the kitchen, I’ll go in through the patio doors and distract her.’
Ellis, who looks even more nervous now, runs in through the kitchen door.
Okay, Molly, come on. Game face on.
‘Hello,’ I say brightly, catching her in the dining room.
‘I’ve been knocking for ages. What are you doing?’ Lou replies. Her look instantly shifts to something suspicious. She can read me like a book. ‘We’re supposed to be going out but… you look weird. What’s going on?’
And now would be the time when I say something, anything, to throw her off the scent. Of course, nothing springs to mind in the instant I need it, because I know Lou has a nose like a bloodhound for stuff like this. It really has been so hard, sneaking around behind her back. I’m surprised it’s taken her this long to get onto us.
I part my lips, hoping something will fall out, but instead something falls over in the kitchen – well, it’s most likely been knocked over, and you can tell from the look in Lou’s eyes that she knows someone is in there.
‘Is someone else here?’ she asks me, her eyes narrowing.
‘Nuh… er… uh… ah…’
Come on, Molly, say words. Any words. The sounds are just making you seem more suspicious.
‘No?’ I eventually say, but it sounds like I don’t even believe myself.
Reading my mind, she storms off towards the kitchen, flinging open the door, only to smash it into Ellis, who is hiding behind it.
‘Shit,’ he cries out in pain.
‘Ellis!’ Lou blurts. ‘What are you doing at my best friend’s house?’
Then she turns to me.
‘Molly, what is my boyfriend doing at your house?’ she asks. ‘Hiding at your house. And you both look guilty as fuck; what the hell is going on?’
The obvious answer (to most people anyway) is surely that we’re having an affair, but you can tell by the look on Lou’s face that she can’t quite bring herself to fully entertain that kind of betrayal.
‘All right, look, I’ll tell you what’s going on,’ Ellis says, approaching her with his hands up. When he finally reaches her, he dares to take one of her hands in his. ‘Actually, I’ll show you. Come outside with me?’
Lou looks at him like he’s a grenade with the pin pulled but still she lets him take her out into the back garden. The second she steps outside, her jaw drops. She glances between the lights, the petals, Ellis, me. Her face softens as it slowly dawns on her that whatever it is that is happening, it must be something good.
‘Louise Annabelle Spencer, we’ve been together for three years now and, honestly, they have been the best years of my life,’ Ellis tells her, taking both her hands in his. ‘I know it’s a cliché, but you really do make me a better person, and I can’t imagine my life without you. So…’
Ellis roots around in his pocket as he lowers himself down onto one knee.
‘Louise,’ he says, his voice much steadier now. This is a man who knows what he wants. ‘Will you make me the happiest man in the world and… will you marry me?’
Lou claps her hands over her mouth which, hilariously, is the last thing she should be doing right now. She goes to speak without moving them before laughing like a maniac.
‘Yes!’ she says, as she finally stops smothering herself. ‘Yes, yes, yes, yes – a thousand times yes.’
‘Yes!’ Ellis says victoriously. ‘She said yes!’
And that’s their cue. Now that they all know it’s good news, Lou and Ellis’s nearest and dearest all come in through the back gate, where they’ve been hiding, just waiting for the right moment to pop out and celebrate with the happy couple. Well, there was no chance Lou was going to say no, everyone knows she’s head over heels in love with Ellis.
The back garden is a blur of celebration. Hugs, kisses, photos being taken – everyone shuffling around to have their moment with the happy couple.
I take a step back, letting them enjoy their time in the spotlight, before Lou spots me out of the corner of her eye and runs over.
‘Oh my God, Molly, I can’t… I can’t believe it,’ she squeaks as she hugs me tightly. ‘I can see your fingerprints all over this, as well as Ellis’s and… just, wow, thank you. Thank you so much for helping him.’
‘And to think you thought we were having an affair,’ I tease her.
‘I did not,’ she insists. ‘I knew you were up to something, and I didn’t expect it to be this but… oh, I’m so happy it’s this.’
‘Me too,’ I say with a smile. ‘Congratulations. I’m so, so happy for you both. And I can’t take much credit. It was all Ellis, I just helped him execute it.’
‘I feel like the luckiest woman in the world,’ she says, smiling wider than I’ve ever seen her smile before. It’s like she’s unlocked a new capacity for it.
I smile back. I really, really am happy for her.
‘You’ll be my bridesmaid, right?’ she checks.
‘Do you even need to ask?’ I reply. ‘It would be an honour.’
‘You’re the best friend a girl could have,’ she tells me. ‘And you know I’ll return the favour when Dean proposes.’
My smile must slip, just a little, because I notice Lou’s fade for a moment too.
‘He will propose,’ she tells me. ‘You guys have been together for nearly three years.’
‘We’re just, I don’t know, not on course for that,’ I tell her. ‘He’s got his career, that’s his main priority, and I’ve got my stuff going on and, yeah, we’re happy as we are.’
Lou gives me that suspicious look again.
‘Like, this evening, he’s so busy with work, and he knows I’ve been busy helping to sort your proposal, but he said he’s taking me somewhere special for dinner afterwards,’ I say, not intending to sound like I’m making excuses, but I guess I am.
‘Wait a sec,’ Lou says, the smile creeping back across her lips. ‘He knows you’ve been planning a proposal, you’ve probably been all excited, and now he’s planning a special dinner… you don’t think…?’
‘No!’ I say quickly. ‘No, no, no. Unless… do you think?’
‘I think, I think,’ Lou replies. ‘Oh my God, can you imagine, if the two of us got engaged on the same day!’
‘Okay, don’t get ahead of yourself,’ I say with a chuckle.
‘Louise, darling, Grandma is finally here,’ her mum calls out.
‘Go, see your gran,’ I tell her.
‘I love you,’ Lou says, squeezing both of my hands.
‘I love you too,’ I reply. ‘And I can’t wait for your wedding.’
As Lou walks off, I finally understand what they mean when they say someone has a spring in their step. She is quite literally bouncing across the lawn, she’s that happy. It’s nice to see, and I really am so excited for her wedding but, as for Dean proposing to me, well, I think she’s way off the mark there. He’s not exactly the romantic type and I know that he thinks weddings are kind of lame, and I’m okay with that. Really, I am. I’m going to be a bridesmaid for Lou, which will be great. I can live with being a bridesmaid.
A phrase pops into my head, like an especially mean intrusive thought, almost like my inner monologue is teasing me. And now I can’t stop thinking about it which is just – chef’s kiss – so, so great.
Do I even need to tell you what it is? You know the one.
Always the bridesmaid…
2
I’m running late – and for a dinner that was booked for late anyway, so hurrying through Leeds city centre at this time just feels all kinds of wrong.
It’s almost ten o’clock which, come on, feels more like a getting-home time than a going-out time. It’s not that I’m an early sleeper, I’m definitely a night owl, it’s more that I think I’m just fully ready to embrace my granny era. I know, I’m only thirty-two, and I’ll have plenty of time for that sort of thing later but… I don’t know. Is it so bad that I feel so ready now? I work in recruitment, for a big company that makes biscuits, which is more stressful than you might think – although the amount of tea and biscuits we consume on a daily basis is as you would expect, and it’s probably the best perk of the job. That said, I’m still knackered, and the early-morning commute isn’t for me.
Autumn is pretty much here so all I can really do is just surrender to it, embrace it even. I do really like autumn. I love the colours, the smells, the flavours. I’m all for cosy cardigans, cups of tea, curling up on the sofa underneath a blanket, binge-watching Netflix while counting down the days until Christmas – which I love. That’s what I want.
After that I just have to endure January, February and March, because I hate the cold and dark nights, and then it’s spring and summer is on the horizon. And then we do it all again.
I have never been more certain that I was born to hibernate. The nights getting darker earlier and the weather getting colder is only confirming it for me.
Actually, you know what, what I really need is a holiday, more than anything. A proper one. Not a weekend break to London with Dean – which actually just turned out to be for a meeting and to watch the cricket, and it horizontal rained the whole time we were there – but a proper trip to somewhere warm. I need to feel the sun on my skin, for it to warm me through. I need to sit by the pool, sipping cocktails and relaxing. You just can’t get that in the UK, even on a nice day, it’s not the same.
A cold breeze rushes by me, reminding me that I’m in the UK, and that I should probably hurry up.
Finally arriving at the restaurant, after what I would call some of my best speed-walking, I push my way through the heavy glass doors to find that the place is empty. Have I come to the wrong place? Have I misunderstood the time?
‘Molly?’ a waiter checks.
‘Yes,’ I reply.
‘This way, please.’
He gestures for me to follow him, so maybe I am in the right place.
I smile when I notice Dean, sitting alone at a table in the middle of an otherwise empty restaurant. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves.
He looks good in his suit – I don’t even think you need an eye for expensive things to tell that his outfit cost a small fortune and that he most definitely works in finance. He’s tall with dark hair and blue eyes which is just – the dream, right?
He smiles as he beckons me over.
‘Come on, I am starving,’ he says playfully. ‘Hello.’
‘Hi,’ I reply, giving him a peck on the lips before I take my seat at the table across from him.
‘I ordered us a bottle of wine,’ he tells me. ‘You okay?’
‘I’m great, yeah,’ I reply, finally catching my breath. ‘How was work?’
‘Yeah, it was fine,’ he says. ‘Well, no, it was stressful, but everyone is richer now, so all is well that ends well.’
He leans back in his chair and grins.
‘It all went really well, by the way,’ I tell him.
‘Good,’ he replies. Then he realises he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. ‘What went well?’
‘The proposal,’ I remind him.
‘Ah, good,’ he says simply.
‘Ellis was amazing, and Lou was in total shock – over the moon though,’ I continue. ‘I took some photos, to show you how amazing the garden looked.’
‘Great,’ he replies.
He’s definitely distracted by something, or there’s something on his mind, because I don’t really feel like he’s listening to me.
‘She was—’
‘I’ve ordered for us, by the way,’ he says, talking over me. ‘I thought you’d be starving too.’
‘Oh, okay, great,’ I reply with a smile. ‘It will be a nice surprise then.’
