I get you a coffee while you wait?”
Harper startled and blinked at the waiter, who was barely out of his teens, before shaking her head. She’d already had one coffee and the last thing she needed before breakfast with Manny was to get more wired. “No thanks, I’m fine for now.”
The waiter nodded and left her alone. Alone to think about how she could wrestle back some sense of normality when Manny joined her shortly.
She’d all but bolted from her room ten minutes ago. She’d aimed for casual by waking him with coffee but she should’ve known he’d be too astute, and he’d picked up on her jitters immediately. She’d tried to assuage him with that kiss, but all it had served to do was make her feel worse. What she wouldn’t have given to strip and crawl back under the covers with him, but there was a reason she only had sex in the dark, and no matter how spectacular their night, he wasn’t ready to see the real her yet.
He’d never get to see the real her.
This thing between them was a fling, an interlude born of close proximity in another country. It would be over as soon as it had begun when they headed back to Auckland tomorrow before boarding a plane to Melbourne the next day. Fleeting fun, just the way she wanted it.
So why did the thought of reinstating her man ban leave her feeling hollow, like all her insides had been scooped out and she was nothing but an empty shell?
She caught sight of Manny at the entrance to the restaurant and waved. He must’ve gone back to his room to shower and change, because his hair clung in wet whorls close to his scalp, and he wore khaki shorts and a white polo that set off his skin. But he hadn’t shaved and the shadow along his jaw lent him a dangerous edge that made him sexier, if that was possible.
She watched him walk toward her, a saunter more than a stride, like he had all the time in the world—or maybe he didn’t fancy sitting with the crazy lady at breakfast, the woman who’d welcomed him last night and retreated beneath her polished veneer this morning.
“Hey,” she said, when he reached the table. “Hope you’re hungry. They’ve got a wicked menu.”
“Ravenous.” He bent to kiss her before taking a seat, and that one small gesture went some way to calm her nerves.
She’d treated him pretty badly back in the room, but he obviously didn’t hold a grudge as he picked up the menu and flicked through it. She owed him some kind of explanation, but anything she could come up with would sound lame. When he continued to study the menu, she fiddled with the cutlery, trying to compose something that wouldn’t make her sound like a nutter.
Stilling her fingers, she folded them in her lap and said, “Sorry for being so awkward before. I’m not so good with morning-after etiquette.”
He lowered the menu and eyeballed her, and she was relieved to see understanding rather than censure in his eyes.
“You don’t need to feel awkward around me. I thought we got past all that around the time you used my face as a cupcake for your decorating skills.”
She laughed, as he’d intended, and she wanted to vault the table to hug him in gratitude for making this easy on her. “I’m a dork. What can I say?”
“You can say how spectacular I was last night. How you couldn’t get enough. How badly you want a repeat.”
“That too,” she said, with a smile. “I had fun last night and despite running out on you this morning I’m looking forward to tonight.”
“Phew, for a minute there I thought your sprint might’ve been a result of disappointment.”
“I didn’t pick you to have performance anxiety.”
“I don’t, but one more moment with you not wanting to be anywhere near me in your room and I might’ve developed a severe case.”
Thankfully, the teen waiter approached again, and after ordering smashed avocado for her and hollandaise poached eggs for him, they fell into comfortable chatter. And it continued throughout their breakfast and on their drive to Huka Falls, New Zealand’s number one tourist attraction.
But as Manny took hold of her hand before they started down the track to explore the noisy falls, she couldn’t help but think she might’ve made a mistake.
She’d survived one awkward postcoital encounter this morning. What happened when there was a repeat tomorrow? Would Manny