My heart thuds. “Jake can come with us,” I call out, but it’s too late, Mum has already dragged Jake into the shop.
He walks alongside me, so close that his arm is almost brushing against mine. Every nerve in my body is aware of his presence, I feel too hot. It seems to take ages to reach the shooting range. I watch a guy load the rifle. He tells the girl he’s with, his girlfriend I assume, that he’s going to win her a teddy bear. The guy running it tells him that if he shoots down all twelve cans he gets a big prize, if he shoots down eight cans he gets a small prize. I jump as I feel the jerk’s arm slide around my shoulders. “So, you’re a good shot, huh.” He smiles at me. “I’ll have to remember not to make you mad.”
I turn my head and glare up at him, his arm falls from my shoulders. “Are you serious? Let’s see,” I begin counting on my fingers, “you embarrassed me on the beach, you made fun of my choice of reading, and made me lose my page, you refused to leave even when I asked you to. Need I go on?”
He’s doing that staring into my eyes thing again, but this time his eyes are sparkling, he bites down on his lip. “Have dinner with me and let me make it up to you?”
Unbelievable. I smile sweetly at him. “Okay, you can pick me up at when hell freezes over o’clock.”
I turn back around, the guy has finished shooting and he hands his girlfriend a small teddy bear. “I bet I can do better,” the jerk says.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “If your shooting is as good as your chat up lines, I expect eleven of the twelve cans to remain on the shelf.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “If I shoot down all twelve, will you have dinner with me?”
I fold my arms. “One shot per can,” I tell him. “If you miss with the first shot, you don’t get to shoot at it again.”
“You’re on,” he says. He hands the guy some coins, loads the rifle and raises it to his shoulder. My gaze travels over his body. His stomach is flat, I bet he works out, and his butt looks good in those jeans. I suddenly realise I’m licking my lips. I hear a clink as he shoots the first can down. His shoulders are broad too, I have a thing for men’s shoulders, and his arms are toned. There’s a scar on his bicep, I squint at it, it looks like four little puncture wounds in a row. He shoots down six more cans, then he turns to me, and smiles. “What do you like to eat, Precious?”
I smile back at him. “Well I’m not eating humble pie, Honey.”
His shoulders shake as he laughs. He shoots down four more cans, stops to wink at me and then shoots down the final can, just as I expected he would. He lays down the rifle and strolls over to me with a smirk on his face. “What time shall I pick you up?”
I prod him in the chest. Wow, his chest is solid. “Not so fast, I’ve got a counter offer for you.”
He frowns. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”
“If I shoot down all the cans, the date’s off, but if I don’t, I’ll give you a second date,” I say, as I pay the guy and load the rifle.
His forehead creases, then he sighs. “I’m going to end up with nothing, aren’t I?” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Go on then, hot shot, show me what you got.”
I shoot down eleven cans in quick succession; I stop and wink at him before shooting down the twelfth one. I don’t want to carry a teddy bear around all day, so I choose two cowboy hats for my prize.
“I’m impressed,” he says as I stand on tiptoes and plop one of the hats on his head. He pulls it down to cover his eyes and an image forces its way into my mind, of him naked, wearing just the hat. I shake my head to clear the image away. Damn hormones.
I rest my head against the car window, and close my eyes. I didn’t sleep well last night; it takes me a couple of days to get used to sleeping in a strange bed.
“Pia.” I feel something prodding my arm. “Wake up; we’re back at the cottage.” I open my eyes; Jake’s poking me with his finger. I unfasten my seatbelt and get out of the car, Mum already has the cottage door open.
“Do you want to come in for a cup of tea, Ima?” She asks him.
He shakes his head. “Thanks, but no, I’ve got to get home. Thank you for inviting me along today, I had a great time.”
“Ah, Trey, I’m glad I caught you.” I turn to see a frail, grey haired man heading towards us; he’s holding a square tin box. “Please give these to your mum, they’re chocolate chip cookies,” he says as he hands the tin to the jerk. “They passed their sell by date yesterday, so I can’t sell them in the shop, but they’re perfectly okay to eat.” The jerk thanks him. The old man rests his hand on the jerk’s arm. “Please tell your mum I asked after her, and that I hope she can make it to the beach barbecue next week.”
“I’ll let her know,” he replies.
The man heads back towards the little grocery shop.
“Pia,” Mum’s arms are folded, and she’s frowning at me. “I thought you told us his name was Ima.”
I freeze. C’mon brain, think, what do I tell her? “Er…”
“Trey’s my middle name,” the jerk says. “I don’t like the name Ima, so most people call me Trey.”
I gape at him.
Mum’s shoulders relax; she puts her hand to her chest. “I was worried there for a moment, I thought we’d been calling you by the wrong name all day.” She glances at me. “You should have told us, Pia.”
“Pia didn’t know,” he says. “I told her my name was Ima.”
I raise my eyebrows at him.
“Oh, well that’s okay then. I’m going to put the kettle on,” Mum says as she goes inside, leaving the door ajar.
I stare at the jerk. Perhaps I should stop calling him that, after all, he did help me out just then. I fold my arms and stare at the cottage door, this is awkward. “Thanks for that,” I mumble.
He taps his fingers against the cookie tin, and I glance up at him. The corners of his mouth are tipped up and his eyes are sparkling. “If you want to thank me properly, have dinner with me tomorrow.”
A giggle escapes my lips. “You don’t give up, do you?”
CHAPTER SIX
Pia
The contents of my chest of drawers are strewn across the bed. I should have thought to ask where he plans on taking me. I pick up my red satin dress and hold it up against my body. I study myself in the mirror as I twist from side to side. It’s dressy enough to pass if we’re going somewhere posh, but I wouldn’t look out of place in a steakhouse either. I slip the dress over my head, it feels good as it glides down my skin. I squint into the mirror as I put in my silver teardrop earrings. I reach for my perfume, red roses, it’s my favourite. I pause, my finger on the nozzle, I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. I mean, we can be friends while I’m here, but I don’t want him to expect anything more. Oh what the heck, it’s just perfume. I spray a mist into the air and walk through it. I’m doing up the buckle on my silver, high heeled sandals when I hear the ring of the doorbell.
I open the door and look him up and down. Okay, we obviously aren’t going anywhere posh. He’s wearing his usual faded, ripped jeans, black sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of black flip flops. I guess we’re going to the local pub. He gives a low whistle. “Wow, Pia. You look beautiful.”
I grab my purse and the spare set of door keys. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” I call out, as I leave, and close the door. As we walk along the narrow street I can hear my heels click against the paving slabs. His fingers brush against mine, and then he clasps my hand in his. His hand is large and feels soft and warm, but this is friendship, maybe, nothing more. I pull my hand from his and pretend to be searching for something in my purse. He doesn’t say anything, and doesn’t reach for my hand again.
The moon is out. I can hear the waves as they hit the shore, but I can’t see them, it’s too dark. A ginger cat walks along the sea wall; it stops to lick its paws. The pub looks busy tonight, all the seats outside are full; hopefully there will be space for us inside. The waiter brings out someone’s order, steak. It smells good, it makes
my stomach rumble. I haven’t eaten much today, I wanted to save my appetite for this evening. I stop by the pub door, waiting for Trey to be a gentleman and open it for me, but he walks right past. He pauses when he realises I’m no longer following him and glances over his shoulder. He crooks his finger at me. Okay, I guess we aren’t going to the pub. I trot after him.
He stops outside a single storey, whitewashed cottage, and pulls a set of keys out of his jeans pocket. I notice there’s an old blue car parked in the driveway, I guess we’re driving to another town to eat. He’s probably stopping off to pick up his car keys. That’s good, I’d rather go somewhere more lively. He’s standing in the doorway, smiling at me. He gestures for me to go in. “I’ll wait out here for you,” I tell him.
“Why would you want to stand out there all night?”
“I’m only waiting here while you get your car keys,” I say, frowning at him.
He leans against the door frame and folds his arms across his chest. “Pia, I asked you to have dinner with me, I didn’t say I was taking you OUT to dinner.”
I gape at him, my mouth open. What an asshole. I got dressed up for nothing. I starved myself all day for this, which is my own stupid fault, I should have known better. I take a deep breath. “I see. So what delights do I have to look forward to? A frozen microwave meal? Or maybe you’re going to treat me to a take-out.”
He grins, and my hand itches to slap it off his face.
“Do you think I’d give you a frozen ready meal? You might be surprised,” he says.
I snort. “I’m already surprised. I’m surprised I agreed to this date. I’m surprised that I’m even surprised, that you aren’t bothering to take me out.”
He busts up laughing, a deep, throaty laugh, that makes his shoulders shake. His laugh is infectious and his whole face lights up, it’s attractive and it annoys the heck out of me that I think so. He finally stops laughing and gazes at me, his eyes sparkling. “You’re adorable.” He grabs my hand and pulls me inside. My heel catches on the door frame; I lurch forward, and slam into his chest.
I can feel his heartbeat beneath my palms, he smells of spices. I shiver as he strokes his fingertips down my bare arms. This is so embarrassing, I’m sure my face is the colour of a tomato. Why did I wear these stupid heels? “I’m sorry, I tripped,” I mutter, as I finally pluck up the courage to look up at him.
He cocks his head to the side and smirks. “As much as I enjoy you throwing yourself at me, Precious, you might want to wait until after dinner.” Arrgh. I shove him away and step backwards, giving him my most furious glare. As he brushes past me to close the door, he glances down at my feet. “How do you even walk in those things?” His gaze slowly travels up my body, and my skin heats up, as if his eyes were lasers. His hand reaches for me; I hold my breath and stiffen, unsure of where his touch will land. He ruffles my hair. “You’re still tiny, even when you’re wearing stepladders, aren’t you, Pee Aitch.”
I frown at him. “Pee aitch?”
He nods his head. “Yeah, Pia Hamilton, that’s your name, right?”
My mouth forms a thin line. “What’s your surname?”
His eyes shine. “Baker.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Trey Baker.”
He smiles. “Yeah, that’s right.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Tee Bee, as in, tuberculosis, a nasty disease that you want to get rid of.”
He nibbles at his lip and then busts up laughing. “It’s no use trying to charm me with sweet talk, Precious.” He kicks off his flip flops, leaving them on the hallway floor, then he glances down at my feet again. “Take those things off, before you break your neck.”
I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. I wore these sandals because I thought they looked nice, but he obviously doesn’t appreciate my efforts. He has to be the most annoying guy in the history of guys, ever. I should leave, I could just open the door and go, but my family have probably already gone out to eat, and I’m hungry. I guess I can put up with him till I’ve eaten, then I’ll leave. I slip off my sandals and put them down by his flip flops.
The kitchen looks like something out of Country Life magazine. It’s spacious, the walls are lined with dark wood cabinets, there are spotlights on the ceiling, more lights above the kitchen counters and a massive fridge/freezer. Trey is standing in front of the kitchen window with his back to me, slicing bread. He looks over his shoulder. “I thought you were going to stay in the hallway all night. What do you want to drink?”
I don’t answer him, I’m too busy staring through the glass panelled door at the garden. It’s beautiful. There’s a semi-circular stone slab patio, complete with a table and four chairs. The patio is surrounded by a low wall that’s lined with shrubs in colourful containers. On the other side of the wall are small bushes filled with twinkling fairy lights, and beyond those are trees. “It’s so pretty.”
I feel his body heat as he moves to stand behind me. “I thought we could eat out there, it’s warm tonight, but I’ve got a patio heater if you get cold.”
I nod as I continue admiring the garden. “I’d like to eat out there, I love the fairy lights, I could almost think I was on vacation in the Med.”
He chuckles and I feel his hot breath on my ear. “I got the lights today; I thought you might like them.”
I turn and gaze up at him. “You bought the lights for me?”
He laughs. “Yeah, there’s no need to sound so surprised.”
But I am surprised; he’s been a jerk up until now. I never would have thought he’d do something so sweet…and romantic. I bite my lip. His arm moves around me as he reaches for the handle and opens the door. “You can go take a closer look if you want,” he says.
As I’m about to step outside, his arm slips around my waist. He holds me in place, my back is pressed up against his chest. He dips his head towards mine. “But first, you have to tell me what you want to drink.” His breath tickles my ear. I glance down at his bare arm that’s resting across my stomach, my skin heats up at his touch, and I can feel my heart rate increasing. I clear my throat. “Erm, do you have any wine?” My voice sounds croaky.
I feel him nod his head. “Red or white?”
“Erm, white.”
As soon as his arm leaves my body, I rush outside, in need of some air. I’ve never met a guy like him before, everything about him is intense. A warm breeze rustles the bushes. We’re close to the beach, I can hear the waves. I never thought I’d ever want to live anywhere outside of the city, but I could live somewhere like this. It’s beautiful, secluded and peaceful. I can imagine relaxing out here in the sunshine, reading a book. Trey places two glasses of wine on the table.
“Who likes gardening?” I ask. There are tomato and strawberry plants and at least twenty other pots.
He shrugs. “Me, kind of.” He rubs his chin. “I don’t like gardening, you know, growing flowers and mowing grass, but I like growing stuff to cook with.”
Hmm, maybe I won’t end with a microwave meal after all. “So these plants,” I say, pointing at the green leafy ones, “what are they?”
“They’re herbs,” he says as he crouches down by one of the pots. “Do you like chocolate?”
I smile at him. “Who doesn’t.” He rubs his fingers over one of the leaves and holds them out to me. I crouch down next to him, and sniff. It smells like a chocolate, peppermint cream. “What is that?”
“It’s a chocolate mint plant. I use it to make chocolate mint milkshake, and mint tea.”
I rub the leaves between my fingers and inhale. This herb could become addictive, especially for someone who has chocolate cravings. I stand up and walk around the patio. “Is this your house, I mean, do you own it?”
He shakes his head. “It belongs to my parents.”
“Are they home?” If so, I should introduce myself to them, I don’t want to appear rude.
He picks up his glass and takes a mouthful of wine. “My mum’s here.”
“Oh. Doe
s she know I’m here? Should I go and say hello?”
He picks up the other glass of wine and hands it to me. “You ask a lot of questions, Pee Aitch. I need to go fix you something to eat, before you starve to death.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Pia
I remain in the garden, enjoying the peace and the twinkling lights. I glance at the mint plant, it’s calling to me, ‘chocolate, you know you want me, come get your chocolate fix here.’ I crouch down, rub the leaves and hold my fingers against my nose. I close my eyes and inhale; it’s like a human form of catnip. I turn my head towards the kitchen window; Trey is watching me, with a smile on his face.
I join him in the kitchen; he removes some bread from a griddle pan and puts it on a plate. It occurs to me that I have no idea what he’s cooking; I need to tell him about my phobia. “Will there be onions in anything? Only, I can’t eat onions, I can’t even bear to look at them. I can’t touch them, and I can’t even stand the smell.” I shudder just thinking about it. “And please don’t say that if you chopped them up finely I wouldn’t even know they were there, because I would. I’d know the second I put it in my mouth.” He’s staring at me, his eyebrows raised. Oh my God, I’ve gone over the top haven’t I?
He stares at me for a few more seconds. I’m about to apologise, when he smiles. “It’s okay, Pee Aitch, there are no onions.”
He grabs a clove of garlic and begins crushing it with the blade of a knife. I cover my nose with my hand. “Err…I don’t eat garlic either, or leeks, chives or anything oniony.”
He busts up laughing. “Maybe I should fix you that microwave ready meal.”
I stare down at the floor, I know I’m blushing, I feel like an idiot. “Sorry for being a pain.”
He scoops up the garlic and tosses it into the trash. Then he washes his hands and the board he crushed the garlic on. “You’re not a pain; I hate sprouts, especially the way my mum used to cook them. I can’t stand liver, either.” He screws up his face. He gets something from the fridge. As he rips open the packaging I see that it’s mozzarella cheese, he breaks it into pieces and places it on the griddled bread. Hmm, looks I’m getting a posh version of cheese on toast. He holds up a red pepper. “Have you got anything against chilli, Pee Aitch?”
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