nice to people. Although, give him brownie points for taking you to Olivio. It’s well nice there.’
It was a smart restaurant over in the next town and she’d offered to give me a lift.
‘I’m impressed. Good choice. You don’t want to go out with a cheapskate no matter how manly or gorgeous he is. Sex doesn’t put any meat on your bones.’
I ignored the latter comment. ‘I’m not expecting him to pay for me. He’s a teacher.’ The restaurant was known for its relaxed, casual ambience and decidedly tasty food, which wasn’t super expensive – but we weren’t talking a quick Prezzo pizza either.
‘You are so low maintenance.’ She took a step back and pretended to study me. ‘Are you sure you’re related to me?’
I laughed. ‘The jury’s been out on that one for decades.’
‘If a man takes me out for dinner, I expect him to dig deep.’
‘And I prefer to pay my share. That way there’s no expectation of any other sort of payment.’
‘Again, are you related to me?’
‘Shell, I’m not buying it. You’re not that shallow. And you don’t shag on a first date.’
She winked at me. ‘Not always.’
‘Sure you want me to drop you here?’ asked Shelley with an exaggerated raise of her eyebrows as I directed her to the car park.
‘Absolutely positive,’ I said, gathering up my handbag from the footwell of her dinky Fiat 500.
‘You spoil all my fun,’ she said with a wicked grin, whipping the car into the smallest of spaces and ramming on the brakes, almost sending me through the windscreen.
‘Yes,’ I replied with a quick glance at my watch. I had ten minutes to walk to the restaurant, which was deliberate planning. ‘You’re not coming with me.’ My repressive tone didn’t have any effect. She grinned and I rolled my eyes. She would have waited with me like some kind of overbearing dad until Sam showed up.
‘How are you getting home? Want me to pick you up later?’
‘Sam said he’d give me a lift home,’ I said, brushing an imaginary speck of fluff from the silk of my dress.
‘And will you be inviting him in for coffee?’ She shimmied her shoulders and lowered her voice.
‘No!’ I nudged her with my shoulder in protest at her pitiful attempt at being sultry and suggestive. ‘Well, I might, but it will only be for coffee.’ I opened the door, the heat of the afternoon hitting me as I started to slide out. It had been another scorching day with the temperatures soaring into the 30s.
‘Have fun.’ Once again, like a pair of naughty caterpillars, her eyebrows waggled. ‘And make sure you text me all the deets as soon as you’re home … unless of course he’s with you.’
Ignoring her, I shut the car door, but I grinned as I walked away. Inside my stomach, a dozen drunken butterflies were lurching about, making me feel wayward and giddy … and that anything could happen.
Maybe my senses were finely tuned to him or maybe I recognised his gait, but from the other end of the street I spotted him walking along ahead of me in the same direction and yeah, I almost stumbled. My hormones had some sort of early warning system and at the mere sight of him, my heart rate took off at a runaway gallop and my skin flushed with a rush of pleasure. In navy chinos and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his tanned forearms, he looked yum. And no, I was not looking at his bum … well, not especially. It was the first time I’d seen his hair loose, and although I’d didn’t normally do men with long hair, the thick blond curls just added to the overall heart-socking package.
My pace slowed and for a moment I watched him, aware of the most ridiculous primitive urge to storm over, grab him and kiss the living daylights out of him. There was also a small matter of wanting to push my fingers through all that glorious hair. Yeah, my hormones had taken me hostage and were making crazy-girl demands. I needed to get a grip on them and on myself.
With a little involuntary sigh, I watched him for a few seconds more. OK, ogled might be more correct. I took in the long legs which my memory helpfully reminded me were nicely muscular and tanned. His phone was clamped to his ear and he was talking. He slowed and stopped, his head bobbing slightly. Even while admiring