скачать книгу бесплатно
It Started With A Kiss
Miranda Dickinson
Snubbed by her best friend, Rom flees from her humiliation and encounters a stranger whose kiss changes everything. Join her as she embarks on a quest to find the man of her dreams…Exclusive extra material available in this e-book edition!What would you do to find the one that got away?Romily Parker is a woman on a mission. On the last Saturday before Christmas, (shortly after disastrously declaring her undying love for her best friend, Charlie) Romily has a sudden, brief encounter with a gorgeous stranger who might, just possibly, be the man of her dreams. It only takes two small words – ‘Hello, beautiful’ – and one, heart-stopping kiss to make up her mind: she has to find him again.Giving herself a deadline of the following Christmas Eve, Romily commits to spending a year searching for the stranger – a decision which divides her family and friends.The ONLY book that you’ll want to curl up with this winter - perfect for fans of Jill Mansell and Sophie Kinsella.
MIRANDA DICKINSON
It Started with a Kiss
Copyright (#ulink_07521fcd-874e-51df-a493-41716b7ec60f)
AVON
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
77–85 Fulham Palace Road
Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2014
Copyright © Miranda Dickinson 2014
Miranda Dickinson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9781847561671
Ebook Edition © OCTOBER 2011 ISBN: 9780007387083
Version: 2014-12-09
Dedication (#ulink_e9daa0a8-1b8d-5b07-aa13-742531a79dbe)
For the Peppermints: Andi, Clarko, Dan, Ed, Phil and Susanna. The best friends ever.
‘I dwell in possibility.’
Emily Dickinson
I’m a big believer in following your heart – and that’s so much easier to do when you have wonderful people believing in you. While writing and editing this book, I have been joined a merry band of lovelies who have watched my vlogs, tweeted with me and offered me so much enthusiasm and love. I hope this book is worth the wait for you!
Three books in, and I’m still blown away by everyone’s support. Big thanks to my family and friends for their constant love, Julie Cohen for wise words and woops, Ritzi Cortez, Ella, Barry and Sue for help with narrowboat questions, Joanne Harris for the signal box wedding pictures and Serena at Combermere Abbey (www.combermereabbey.co.uk) for sharing your wonderful wedding venue with me. Thanks also to Vickie Pritchett (Mrs Bou) from The Boutique Baking Company (www.boutiquebaking.co.uk) for providing magical cake inspiration for Auntie Mags. And, as ever, huge thanks to Kim Curran (Next Big Thing) for reading every draft, giving awesome advice and being a fab friend.
Massive thanks as always to my lovely editor Sammia Rafique for her constant belief in me (and long phone chats!), and to the fabulous team at Avon, especially Claire Bord, Caroline Ridding and Charlotte Allen. Big thanks also to Rhian McKay and Anne Rieley.
Inspiration for my characters comes from everywhere, but this time several real-life lovelies have inspired characters in my story. Big love to Phil White (father-in-law-to-be and the inspiration for Uncle Dudley), Wayne McDonald (top bloke and the inspiration for D’Wayne) and my wonderful chums in The Peppermints wedding band (www.peppermintmusic.co.uk) for inspiring The Pinstripes (we’re available for weddings, birthdays, events …!).
And last, but not least, thanks to my lovely fiancé, Bob – for putting up with tons of wedding research, being my constant cheerleader and making me smile. I can’t wait to marry you next year!
This book is about following your heart. I hope it inspires you to follow yours. xx
Contents
Cover (#u877fa899-095a-529a-8ca8-2f43ccdb553a)
Title Page (#u9dbc182f-3e35-5758-a019-749906f43efe)
Copyright (#ulink_286619fa-f48b-5a75-b0ac-d1e9958ef547)
Dedication (#ulink_d7cfbb55-9ee6-5973-8593-f1f7aece9c4b)
Epigraph (#u94d674cd-377b-5274-b60b-85f90eb5b4f6)
Chapter One: The most wonderful time of the year
Chapter Two: Dream a little dream of me
Chapter Three: You’ve got a friend
Chapter Four: We are family
Chapter Five: People get ready
Chapter Six: Get the party started …
Chapter Seven: Keep on moving …
Chapter Eight: Love is all around …
Chapter Nine: Help!
Chapter Ten: Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (a man after midnight)
Chapter Eleven: Rescue me
Chapter Twelve: Move on up …
Chapter Thirteen: Could it be magic?
Chapter Fourteen: Please don’t stop the music …
Chapter Fifteen: I will survive
Chapter Sixteen: Spinning around …
Chapter Seventeen: Here come the girls …
Chapter Eighteen: Respect
Chapter Nineteen: Stuck in the middle
Chapter Twenty: Let there be love
Chapter Twenty-One: It had to be you
Keep Reading … (#litres_trial_promo)
Character Fact Files (#litres_trial_promo)
Deleted Scenes (#litres_trial_promo)
Cake Therapy by Auntie Mags
About the Author
By the Same Author
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_38746f8a-1670-58fd-94cd-973e6cfc2fcb)
The most wonderful time of the year (#ulink_38746f8a-1670-58fd-94cd-973e6cfc2fcb)
When it comes to telling your best friend that you love him, there are generally two schools of thought. One strongly advises against it, warning that you could lose a friend if they don’t feel the same way. The other urges action because, unless you say something, you might miss out on the love of your life.
Unfortunately for me, I listened to the latter.
The look in Charlie’s midnight blue eyes said it all: I had just made the biggest mistake of my life …
‘Sorry?’
Perhaps he hadn’t heard me the first time. Maybe I should say it again?
‘I said I love you, Charlie.’
He blinked. ‘You’re not serious, are you?’
‘Yes.’ I could feel a deathly dragging sensation pulling my hope to oblivion.
Gone was the trademark Charlie grin that had been so firmly in place only moments before. In its place was a look I didn’t recognise, but I knew it wasn’t a good alternative.
‘H-how long have you …?’
I dropped my gaze to the potted plant beside our table. ‘Um – a long time, actually.’ Maybe I should have worn something a bit more ‘potential girlfriend material’ today? But then this morning when I pulled on my trusty jeans and purple sweater dress I wasn’t expecting to have this conversation. And judging by the look of sheer horror on Charlie’s face, it wouldn’t have made a difference if I had been sitting opposite him in a designer gown and diamonds. This was such a mistake …
‘But … we’re mates, Rom.’
‘Yeah, of course we are. Look, forget I said anything, OK?’
He was staring at his latte like it had just insulted him. ‘I don’t know how you expect me to do that. You’ve said it now, haven’t you? I mean it’s – it’s out there.’
I looked around the busy coffee shop. It was overcrowded with disgruntled Christmas shoppers huddled ungratefully around too-small tables on chairs greedily snatched from unsuspecting single customers. ‘I think it’s safe to assume that none of that lot heard anything.’
As attempts at humour go, it wasn’t my finest. I took a large gulp of coffee and wished myself dead.
Charlie shook his head. ‘That doesn’t matter. I heard it. Oh, Rom – why did you say that? Why couldn’t you just have …?’
I stared at him. ‘Just have what?’
‘Just not said anything? I mean, why me? Why put this on me now?’
I hated the look of sheer panic in his eyes. He’d never looked at me that way before … In my perennial daydream about this moment it had been so very different:
Oh Romily – I’ve loved you forever, too. If you hadn’t told me we could have missed each other completely …
‘We’re fine as we are, aren’t we? I mean, if it’s good then why change it? I can’t believe you actually thought this would be a good idea.’
Well, excuse me, but I did. Somewhere between my ridiculous, obviously deluded heart and my big stupid mouth, my brain got pushed out of the picture and I – crazy, deranged loon that I am – found myself persuaded that I might be the answer to his dreams. That maybe the reason for the many hours we’d spent together – cheeky laughter-filled days and late night heart-to-hearts – was that we were destined to be more than friends. Everyone else noticed it: it had been a running joke among our friends that Charlie and I were like an old married couple. The ‘Old Folks’ – that’s what they called us. We’d lost count of the number of times complete strangers mistook us for partners. So if it was this blindingly obvious to the world, how come Charlie couldn’t see it?
Of course, I couldn’t say any of this to him. Sheer embarrassment stole the clever arguments from my mind so that then and there, in the crowded café packed with people who couldn’t care less about what I was saying, I found that all I could say was:
‘I’m sorry.’
Charlie shook his head. ‘I did not see this coming. I thought we were friends, that’s all. But this – this is just weird …’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, Charlie.’
He stared at me, confusion claiming his eyes. ‘I-I didn’t mean … Heck, Rom, I’m sorry – you’ve just got to give me a moment to get my head round this.’
I looked away and focused on a particularly harassed-looking couple talking heatedly at the next table over enormous mugs of cream-topped festive coffees. ‘You don’t appreciate me,’ the woman was saying. Right now, I knew exactly how she felt.
‘The thing is,’ Charlie said, ‘you’ve always been just Rom – one of the guys, you know? You’re a laugh, someone I can hang out with. But now …’ He was digging an impossible hole for himself and he knew it. He gave a massive sigh. ‘I’m sorry. I’m really not sure how to deal with this.’
This was awful – I’d heard enough. I rose to my feet, intense pain and crushing embarrassment pushing my body up off the chair. I opened my mouth to deal a devastating parting shot, but nothing appeared. Instead, I turned and fled, stubbing my toe on a neighbouring customer’s chair and tripping over various overstuffed shopping bags, almost taking a packed pushchair with me as I beat an ungraceful retreat from the coffee shop and out into the bustling street beyond.
Outside, Birmingham’s famous Christmas Market was in full flow, packed with shoppers grabbing last-minute Christmas shopping and crowding around the wooden beer stalls. The coloured lights strung overhead glowed brightly against the greyness of the December afternoon sky and Christmas music blared relentlessly from speakers along the length of New Street.
‘Rom! Where are you going? I’m sorry – please come back! Rom!’ Behind me, Charlie’s shouts blended into the blur of crowd noise and Christmas hits of yesteryear. I picked up my pace, making my way blindly against the tidal flow of bodies, their countless faces looming up before me, unsmiling and uncaring. I had humiliated myself enough already: the last thing I needed was for Charlie to come back for Round Two …
As I passed each shop front the sale signs began morphing into condemnatory judgements of my actions, screaming at me from every lit window:
Insane!
