Page 57 of One for the Road
My entire body stiffened, like I’d been dropped into ice water.
“You okay?” I barely heard Alistair say over the internal screaming filling my head.
Sunlight gleamed off Cameron’s silver wristwatch. His home-gym-crafted body lithe in a crisp dress shirt as he walked pointedly in our direction. Brown hair perfectly styled into an artfully messy comb-over he favoured for style over function.
Annoyingly, he still had a headful of hair.
I was certain I wouldn’t have cried into a pillow for a week straight if it only took one stiff wind to reveal the secrets of his widow’s peak.
“I didn’t realise he was going to be here,” I said quietly. “He never came to stuff like this with me.”
“Want to get out of here?” Alistair offered, squeezing my hand. “My Land Rover has a full tank of petrol; we could probably make it all the way to the English border before we have to stop.”
“Bit late for that—”
“Isla.” Cameron came to a stop on the other side of the counter, his slow gaze shifting between me and Alistair like he was trying to solve an equation that didn’t quite make sense.
The happy feeling that had been steadily stretching my chest all morning deflated like a balloon left in the sun.
“Are you here to pick Teddy up early? She’s around here somewhere,” I said, wringing my hands. I hated it, the way Cameron felt familiar and a stranger, all at the same time.
I knew he always liked to sleep with the window cracked, and the precise tenor of his voice was imprinted in my mind like a thumbprint. But I no longer knew what song he sang in the shower or where his favourite football team sat in the league table.
His eyes fixed on me. “I wanted to talk to you actually,” he replied, voice flat. Almost mad.
What could he possibly be mad at me for now?
My stomach sank. He was here to cancel on Teddy, I realised.Again.
Alistair’s hip brushed mine. His steady shoulder pressing. It might have been my imagination, but it felt like an offer . . . to back me up if I told Cameron to go to hell.
Unfortunately, I strove to give Teddy a drama-free life. “Of course.” I forced the words through my teeth, then turned to Alistair. “Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”
“It’s a cake stand, Isla; how hard can it be?” Cameron muttered.
My cheeks burned as his mocking tone rolled over me.
“Hey.” Alistair’s hands clasped my face, forcing my eyes to meet his. He held the stare so long – so intensely – I thought he was going to toss our rules to the wind and kiss me.
Then his thumb stroked over my cheek, and he released me. “Hurry back, honey.”
Honey.
I guess the cat was out of the bag.
His parting smile was faint. Crooked. Just teasing enough to make my legs wobble down the van stairs.
Though he’d stormed over here, demanding my time and presence, the second my feet hit grass, Cameron spun on his heel, leaving me to trail behind him like a lapdog. It reminded me of the holiday we’d taken to Amsterdam a few years ago. He’d continuously strode ahead, rarely glancing back to see if we could keep up. Eventually Teddy and I had got so lost in the maze of crooked canal houses, we were forced to catch an Uber back to the hotel.
This time, I slowed my gait enough that he paused and turned to me. Staring until the silence began to feel awkward. I curled my toes in my trainers, forcing myself not to be the one to break it.
I won.
“What are you doing, Isla?” Cameron said.
“I work the food market every month.” He must have registered my confusion because his frown deepened, eyes flicking over my shoulder to the paint-chipped food van. The man waiting for me inside it.
“I meant Alistair Macabe. It’s a bit sudden, don’t you think?”
