‘… but he’s flying this way …’ her eyes are as big as flower buckets ‘… and the eagle – er, goose – has landed …’
I can keep quiet and let Poppy do her worst up above, or I can stand up and do this for myself. I shake my fingers through the dangly bits of my hair in the hope of a bit of volume to hide behind and pop my head up over the table edge.
‘Hey! I thought you were going elsewhere?’ Listen to me! I sound as up-myself as Phoebe.
The guy pulls a face. ‘Luckily for you, I met two men who wouldn’t take no for an answer.’ In the light he’s even more beautiful than in the dark, in a lived-in kind of a way. His face is lean with the sort of bone structure and stubble shadows you mainly see on Vogue models. And somehow I just know that there’s a body to match underneath the effortlessly stylish denim jeans and dark hand-knitted sweater.
I shoot Poppy a sideways glance as I finally stagger to my feet. ‘Just checking stock levels down there.’
As he moves forward, his eyes lock with mine. ‘And I came to say how much I enjoyed the fireworks.’
As the words sink in, I’m staring at his lips. Thinking about catching my fingers in those tawny-brown tousled waves. Remembering how I slid my tongue over his teeth. Thinking of the explosions in my gut, and how he must have felt them too. My mouth is dropping open but nothing’s coming out.
Poppy stands on my toe. ‘Weren’t the rockets amazing?’
Rockets? Those fireworks … Of course, that’s what he’s talking about. ‘Yay to the amazing bangs – and those hearts floating down the sky!’ I’m frantically wiping my hands on my backside, moving this on before I make any more of a tool of myself. ‘What can I pour you? Anything on the chalkboard, we’ve got it all.’
There’s a definite spark in his eye. ‘I was wondering what would have happened earlier if I’d passed over a full resident’s parking permit rather than a visitor’s one.’ His lips are twisting as he scans the handwriting. ‘If this is what’s on offer, I think I got my answer.’
I don’t flinch. Instead, I fix my eyes on the Diesel logo on the front of his coat. ‘So what’s it to be, an Unleash Your Libido or a Lovebite?’
‘What do you recommend?’ As his sooty lashes lift there’s a flash of dark grey iris softened by the glint of a tease.
‘Er …’ As our eyes lock again, my heart thuds to a halt and a shiver zips down my spine as I remember the rush as our mouths collided. I catch a waft of his scent across the table and I’m thanking my lucky stars for the sequin shield covering my boobs. However thick the padding on my T-shirt bra is, it’s no match for a dark gaze like that. And I’m only opening and closing my mouth because no one’s asked me that yet.
Poppy comes to my rescue. ‘We’re drinking non-alcoholic Rhubarb and Rose.’
‘But that’s for wimps.’ My voice jumps into action, spurred on by the spark in his eye and the need to get this over fast. ‘I reckon you should try the Love Potion No. 9.’
Poppy turns on me. ‘Is that even a thing?’
I hitch my cupid bow back into place on my shoulder, fill up a jam jar, toss in a cucumber slice and a spoonful of berries, push in a striped paper straw and push it towards him. ‘It is now. There you go! Enjoy!’ Then get the hell out of here.
This time his lips curve all the way to a smile. And of course the teeth are going to match the rest of the package. Why wouldn’t they? In the same way that dark chocolate voice of his sounds exactly as he tasted. ‘So is this the bit where I give you my heart?’
‘Excuse me?’
Poppy’s nudge lands in my ribs as she hisses. ‘The drinks voucher he’s holding – take it off him, Milla.’
I swallow hard, curse silently at how much I’m showing myself up, and make my beam really, really bright. ‘Great.’ But as my fingers reach the paper he whips it away.
There’s a low laugh. ‘One more strawberry then I promise, it’s all yours.’
I’m shaking my head. In the wedding business you have to be super-polite, every second. As Phoebe has reminded me most days for the last six years,