gaze. ‘Your mother and I had ten years together. Ten years where everything was fine. You haven’t been in love. You don’t know how wonderful it is to be that close to someone. You haven’t met The One.’
I hope to God I don’t. He didn’t want to end up like his father, emotionally shattered by every relationship that came to an end. He didn’t want the responsibility of someone else’s emotional upkeep. It was hard enough supporting his father for all these years. But he had to do something to ease his father’s guilt. He had to show his father he wasn’t the man whore he thought he was. And he knew exactly how to do it. He just had to convince Holly to go out with him.
‘Dad, actually there is this girl I’ve met. She’s pretty special. I think you’d approve.’
His dad grabbed Zack’s wrist. ‘Really? How special?’
‘It’s early days, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.’ It wasn’t a lie. Zack had never felt so drawn to a woman before. He only had to picture Holly’s flashing gaze and plump mouth and he got hard. Rock-hard.
His father’s expression brightened like someone had turned up a dimmer switch. ‘It would make me so happy to see you settled with a nice girl. Maybe give me a couple of grandkids—’
‘Hey, hold on.’ Zack laughed and got to his feet. ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’ He picked up his dad’s coat off the booth seat and handed it to him. ‘Come on. Let’s get you home.’
HOLLY HAD TO get up early the next morning in order to get to the New Covent Garden Flower Market, which opened at four a.m. She could have flowers delivered, and often did so when pressed for time, but at least twice a week she liked to select her own, especially when she had a run of weddings. Not that she had any weddings on the horizon, but still. She could dream, couldn’t she? The bright array of colours never failed to lift her spirits. Roses in every colour imaginable, pink and white and blue hydrangeas, gorgeous pink and white peonies the size of teacups, sweet william, tall, stately irises in cobalt blue or egg yolk yellow, fragrant lilies and colourful tulips and baby’s breath as white as a summer cloud.
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