Page 39 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

‘I thought it was charming,’ Lee says, and I know she means it. I watched her today, and the way she looked around – delighted and a little wistful – made something ache in my chest.

‘That’s good,’ Magda nods. She darts another look at me. ‘So did you two have a chance to talk? Will Lee be staying for a while?’

‘Actually—’ I begin, ready to shut Magda down as quickly as possible, but I’m surprised when Lee cuts me off.

‘That’s something that Nico and I need to discuss. In private?’

‘That’s a great idea,’ Magda agrees. ‘Why don’t you two walk down to the pond? It’s so pretty this time of year.’

Lee doesn’t blink. ‘Excellent.’ She turns to me. ‘Shall we go?’

‘I—’ I start, but she’s tilting her chin, that stubborn posture that I recognise. ‘Sure,’ I sigh, resigned to my fate.

‘Lead the way,’ Lee says, and so I do.

We wander in silence down the footpath that winds through the woodland at the back of the house. The air is full of birdsong, and Lee looks around with obvious appreciation. The afternoon light splinters through the canopy of leaves overhead, touching her hair, and I automatically reach for a camera that isn’t there.

Finally, we emerge into the clearing by the pond.

‘Wow,’ Lee whispers. The banks of the large pond are thick with bullrushes, lined with red and gold trees; the iridescent flash of a blue dragonfly zips across the surface of the water. A single rowing boat is tethered to the wooden boardwalk that crosses the widest part of the pond, looking particularly picturesque.

‘I know,’ I agree. I point to the trees on the other side of the water. ‘That’s the woodland that backs onto the inn. It’s actually faster to walk there than it is to drive around.’

‘It’s beautiful,’ Lee says, as I lead her out onto the boardwalk and gesture for her to have a seat.

She perches on the edge of the wooden planks next to me, our legs dangling over the water, and for a moment we sit in the quiet.

I wish I could say it’s restful. It should be restful, but I’ve spent the whole day feeling like I was going to climb out of my skin. Having Lee here – in my home, in my town – has me on edge, and I have no fucking clue what’s going on with me.

It started yesterday, the second she fell into my arms, and it’s only been getting worse: the way my heart keeps beating hard when I look at her, the way I find myself wanting to put my hands on her, just to brush a strand of hair away from her face, or to rest my palm on the small of her back.

I don’t understand why it feels like she fits here. Why it seemed right to have her sitting at our dining table, or to watch Rita draw her out of her shell over ice cream. She absolutely shouldn’t belong here.

Take her ridiculous outfit for one thing. She’s wearing a simple – and obviously expensive – cream dress with a long, light jacket over it in the same colour and without a single wrinkle in it. She’s sitting on the ground like it doesn’t matter, like she’s so perfect and untouchable that the dirt wouldn’t dare.

She’s also forgone her usual deadly stilettos in favour of a pair of brown knee-length boots, still impossibly high heeled and made of some sort of buttery suede. They have gold zips that travel up the inside of her calves, and I’ve spent the whole fucking day imagining sliding those down. Slowly.

Now, Lee pushes her oversized tortoiseshell sunglasses up onto the top of her head and turns to look at me. Her expression is determined.

‘Are you going to tell me what’s really going on?’

‘What do you mean?’

She keeps her eyes pinned to mine, clearly not buying it.

I sigh, and switch my gaze away from her and back out to the scene in front of us. ‘It’s not your problem, Lee.’

The moment stretches between us. She’s just going to wait me out.

‘It’s nothing,’ I say finally, reluctantly. ‘It’s this stupid thing with my dad’s will. There’s been a complication with executing it.’

‘Is that still going on?’ Lee frowns. ‘Hasn’t it been—’

‘Almost eighteen months, yes. Turns out things are convoluted when you’re dealing with a six-hundred-year-old estate and an egomaniac who wanted to make his whole family jump through hoops.’ The words are bitter and I can’t help it. My father was not a good man.

‘I’m sorry,’ Lee says quietly.

‘Apparently my father wasn’t going to let a little thing like being dead stop him from trying to fuck around with my life.’ I run a hand across my jaw. ‘He left me money in his will, a good chunk of it, surprisingly. Only it’s bound up in a trust.’