Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye - Jacquelyn Middleton Page 0,4

but her friendliness did nothing to soften the harried server’s scowl. “I’ll have a soft drink—the apple one, please.”

Tarquin nodded. “Oh, those are good. Refreshing. I’ll get a coffee.” Third one today. “Extra milk, cheers—oh, and two of those raspberry soft drinks, please.” The server pushed off the counter in search of their beverages. Tarquin scratched his stubble, weighing what to say next. “At least your name is universally loved, Leia. Unlike Tarquin. Tarquin is a rich twat’s name. Kids named Tarquin get beat up. Only a few of us survive five years of grammar school.”

“Aw, really? That’s horrible!” Leia let out an abrupt giggle and dropped her pound coins into the cashier’s hand. “So that’s why I’ve never met a Tarquin before.” She returned her wallet to her coat’s pocket.

He paid for his order and chuckled, twirling his fingers through the unicorn’s fluffy rainbow mane. “And you probably never will again. ‘Survival of the fittest’ and all that. It’s a bloody tragedy.”

The cashier handed over a tray with Tarquin’s free caffeine fix and the bottled soft drinks, and they pulled away from the counter. Leia helped herself to her apple beverage and took a quick sip, a gratified smile curling her mouth. “One cool thing, though—people never forget my name.” She led the way, past tables of frustrated customers and chairs burdened with yet-to-be-paid-for shopping, and glanced over her shoulder, her hair pooling in her parka’s hood. “I stand out—for better or for worse.”

“Oh, you stand out, all right,” Tarquin whispered to himself. For better. For so much better, Leia. God, her legs go on for days. He softened his cheek-aching grin so he didn’t look like a lovesick puppy trailing after her.

Passing an empty table, she smiled back at him and pointed at the overstuffed bag hanging from his shoulder. “Your kids are going to love all that.”

What? “Kids? Ah, no—no kids. Just me.”

“Oh?” Confusion clouded her eyes as she looked at the twins stretched across the table in front of them, saving it. The toys? Raspberry drinks? “But I thought…those boys—”

“Nope. Not mine! Um, can you hold this?” He handed Leia the tray, readjusted the unicorn under his arm, and pulled the dinosaur from his bag. “They dropped this in the dark.” He leaned over, setting the stegosaurus on the twins’ table. “Hey lads, I found your dino friend.”

Their eyes lit up. “Steggy!” One of the boys snatched the toy and hugged it against his unzipped coat. “Now you can have ice cream, too, Steg.”

“What do you say?” An approaching male voice grasped Leia and Tarquin’s attention.

“Thank you.” The twins chirped, obeying their father’s command as he juggled three soft serve vanilla cones.

“You’re welcome.” Tarquin smiled and backed up, retrieving his tray from Leia. “Shall we?” Setting it down, he claimed the last vacant table and charmingly pulled out a chair for her.

A gasped “Oh” escaped under her breath as she placed her drink on the table and stole a peek at the checkout again. “Thanks.” A spark of a smile emerged but was quickly extinguished as she sat down.

She’s surprised? By a bloke offering her a chair? Tarquin cocked a brow and slid his hand in his trouser pocket, retrieving his phone and setting it on the table. Who does she date? Neanderthals?

Leia rested her heavy bag by her boots, her focus shifting back to the boys, two tables away. “That dinosaur can’t get a word in.”

“I was like that.” Tarquin lowered his bag to the floor, stashed the bottled raspberry drinks inside, and laid the unicorn on top. Quickly removing his coat, he hung it on the back of his chair and took his seat. “I was always talking to my toys. Don’t remember sharing ice cream with ’em, though.” His fingers roamed, loosening the knot of his blue and green tartan scarf. It complemented his navy cashmere sweater and the unbuttoned collar of the white dress shirt peeking out.

“When I was little, I thought stuffed toys had feelings.” Leia removed her phone from her parka’s pocket, leaving it beside her drink. “I’d go to the store with my mom and make a beeline for the Beanie Babies. They looked all slouchy and sad, lonely, like they wanted me to take them home. So, I’d tell them I’d be back when I saved enough allowance.” Pulling off her scarf, she shifted one arm from her parka then the other, releasing the lace butterfly sleeves of her white dress. She looked out of place, her ensemble