Page 57 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

‘Oh,’ I say, glancing back down at my computer. ‘Sure. I’ll get something, too, if that’s okay.’

I order a sandwich, as well as a bag of muffins to take home with me, aware that I’ve been taking up a table all morning without paying for anything, not that Kat seems at all bothered. She wraps everything up, her fingers moving deftly as she talks a hundred miles an hour the whole time.

‘Anyway, me and Mei want to take you out for a girls’ night,’ Kat says as I tap my card against the card machine. ‘So let me know what evening suits you.’

I smother a laugh. ‘I literally have no plans,’ I say. ‘Also, like I said, I don’t exactly have a thriving social life, so I think it should probably be what suits you.’

‘Sweetie,’ Kat gives me a pitying look, ‘you didn’t think you were getting away that easily, did you? Every social club in town has pencilled you in as their guest of honour. Plus it looks like you and Nico have a couple of date nights planned, right?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You do know you and Nico have a public calendar?’ Kat asks. ‘He and Magda set it up.’ She swipes at her phone and shows me a calendar absolutely teeming with appointments.

‘What the…’ I stare at it in mounting horror. What is displayed before me is literally the stuff of an introvert’s worst nightmares. This is my Stephen King novel.

‘Take it up with your husband,’ Kat shrugs, handing me a weighty paper bag and a cardboard tray with two to-go cups in it.

‘Oh, don’t worry, I intend to,’ I agree as I head for the door. I can’t believe Nico would set this up without talking to me about it.

‘And text me about girls’ night, okay?’ Kat calls after me as I leave.

By the time I bump off the road and down the drive towards the inn I’m wound up pretty tight, my fingers drumming an anxious tattoo against the steering wheel.

I pull to a stop and open the door, already forming my imaginary arguments. I won’t freak out, I tell myself, but I will, calmly, lay out the facts.

Unfortunately, literally every coherent thought leaves my head when I round the truck only to be greeted by the sight of Nico in battered, low-slung jeans, a worn, white T-shirt that clings lovingly to the long lines of his torso, and an actual toolbelt coming towards me.

I’m not sure if he’s really walking in slow motion and being soundtracked by Ginuwine or if my brain is doing that, but Oh. My. God.

As he swaggers closer I have to lean back against the bumper, my knees dissolving from under me. This feels indecent, filthy. Someone should do something! This is pornography! Happening right in our streets!

‘Lee,’ his mouth kicks up, and he’s pulling off a pair of work gloves, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans. Why is that the sexiest thing to ever happen? ‘You didn’t need to bring my lunch. Luke said he’d pick it up.’

You know the sound that the dial up internet used to make when it connected? The horrible disjointed whirring and beeping then the long, shrill scream? That is what is happening in my brain right now.

‘No car,’ I gasp finally, the words absolutely airless.

Nico frowns. ‘What?’

‘You don’t have a car,’ I swallow, my eyes flickering all over him, unable to settle on any one detail. His arms, muscled and tanned against the white T-shirt, his biceps definitely more… substantial than the last time I saw him, the tattoos, the heavy work boots, the unshaven jaw, the gleam of the tiny gold hoop in his ear, almost hidden behind the fall of his dark curls. He’s all dusty and dishevelled and…

‘… get there all right?’ he asks and I realise he’s been talking this whole time.

‘Yep,’ I squeak. ‘Yes. Sure. Fine.’

‘Are you okay?’ he asks, suddenly concerned. ‘You look a bit flushed.’ He steps right up to me and lays his hand over my forehead, the other cradling my cheek. Big, callused man hands.

I whimper and clutch the giant paper bag full of food to my chest, holding it like a barrier between us.

‘I’m fine,’ I say, staggering away from him. ‘A bit warm from the… truck. I think I had the heating up too high. I don’t have the controls figured out yet.’

‘Oh,’ he pries the bag gently out of my death grip, hefting it lightly on one arm, ‘I can take a look at that before you head home.’

‘No need,’ I say, feeling a bit steadier. As long as I don’t look directly at him everything is fine. I find myself fascinated by a patch of gravel to his left. ‘I’m going to walk back. You said it’s faster, right? And I figured you might need the truck for your…’ My eyes dip to his belt of their own accord and I feel lightheaded again. ‘Tools.’

‘Yeah, we need to sort you out with your own transport while you’re here,’ Nico says. ‘Luke said his mum’s old car is just sitting in their garage. He’s going to check with her to see if you can use it, but he doesn’t think it will be a problem.’

‘Oh,’ I push my hair back away from my face, trying really hard to focus on the conversation, ‘that’s so nice of him.’