‘Great,’ says the man himself, nodding approvingly. ‘With an enthusiastic attitude like yours, Twilight, we’ll get you fit in no time.’
I give him a modest smile and keep my arms clamped to my sides. Big wet patches under the arms are not a good look. Neither is hair plastered to a glowing forehead. On the other hand, they do show how hard I’ve been working. Maybe I should be proud of my wet patches.
‘Next time, make sure you bring a bottle of water and sip it throughout your workout,’ says Theo. ‘Never wait until you’re thirsty because that’s a sign you’re already depriving your body of the fluid it needs.’ He’s quite stern when he’s in professional mode. I bet his female clients find it disturbingly sexy. It’s lucky I’m completely immune to his charms …
The mention of water makes me realise how thirsty I am. As soon as I get back, I’ll have a long, cool drink. As I glance in the direction of Honey Cottage, I’m already anticipating quenching my thirst and having a lovely shower …
‘Okay, let’s do some warm-ups before we run,’ Theo says, and I do a double take as he starts jogging on the spot.
I thought we were finished, but apparently we haven’t even started yet.
It turns out star jumps and something called ‘burpees’ are what’s next. The star jumps I can handle but these bloody burpees are torture, especially the bit at the end where you have to leap in the air. And he’s ordered me to do ten!
I’m beginning to think I’ve ended up with the raw end of the deal. Theo gets all the cake he can eat and I get … pure knackered.
*****
An hour later, we’re sitting on the deck of the treehouse, our backs to the wall, legs stretched out, quenching our thirst with glasses of home-made lemonade over ice. The first few sips that trickle down my parched throat, while the ice cubes clink in the glass, are as deliciously welcome as rain after a drought.
‘You did well.’ He grins across at me. ‘Considering you’ve never exercised.’
I smile modestly. ‘Thank you.’
There’s a brief silence then he says, ‘You know, it might sound obvious but eating well and exercising are great ways to keep stress at bay. I think you should continue with the running.’
I nod. ‘And stop eating so much cake and eat carrots instead.’
He smiles ruefully. ‘I’d never advocate that. You wouldn’t be able to stick to it. But the occasional carrot would work wonders.’
I sigh. ‘I know. You’re right. Perhaps I’ll give it a go.’ I close my eyes and turn my face up to the sun. Vitamin D from sunlight is another way to boost your health. And with all the stress in my life right now, I need all the help I can get.
‘This is a great place,’ murmurs Theo.
I open my eyes and glance at him as he gazes out over our garden and the café to the fields beyond.
‘I know. I used to look out when I was a kid and think I could see the entire world from here. It was only later I realised it wasn’t Australia in the distance. It was Lake Heath.’
He looks across at me and grins. ‘You’re funny. Attractive and funny is a wicked combo. Did you really think it was Australia?’
I nod, covering my blushes and sudden confusion by sticking my nose in my empty glass. Attractive and funny?
‘Easy mistake to make when you’re a kid, I suppose. Is there any more lemonade in that flask?’
I shake it, unscrew the lid and pour the remainder into his glass.
‘You should have saved some for yourself.’ He turns slightly, offering to tip some into my glass and his thigh brushes mine.
An odd little shiver runs through me. ‘Sorry? No, no, it’s fine.’ Theo thinks I’m attractive and funny.
‘You look a bit dazed. Have I worn you out with the run?’ He smiles apologetically.
‘Well, yes, obviously,’ I joke. ‘But it’s fine. It’s high time I did something about my fitness.’
Does he really mean it? Or was he just being kind? Trying to boost my confidence in myself, the way a good personal trainer should?
He takes a long drink of the lemonade and my eyes are drawn to his strong, tanned throat, the leap of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. His dark hair is raked back, slick with perspiration after our session. The strong chin and jaw line hint at determination but there’s something attractively vulnerable about his blue eyes that I hadn’t noticed before, possibly because he’s not wearing his glasses today. (He told me he wears contact lenses to work out.)
Of course, now that he’s said I’m funny, I’m racking my brains to think of something hilarious to say, but my mind is a complete and utter blank.
‘So, it’s a shame more people don’t know about The Twilight Café,’ he says, putting his glass down on the deck. ‘I can’t imagine Olivia is your favourite person right now, after the trick her friend Lucy Slater pulled. If it’s any consolation, she feels really bad about it.’
‘She told you that?’ I shoot him a glance, feeling my stomach plummet. Theo and Olivia seem very friendly. Does he know how catty she can be? But perhaps it’s not strictly her personality that’s the draw …
The thought makes me feel ridiculously cross.
I might have known Theo would be a typical man and succumb to Olivia’s obvious attractions!
He nods. ‘I kept bumping into her on the high street and at the gym. We laughed at the coincidence. Then the last time, she was feeling a bit faint, so I drove her home and she made me lunch.’
Coincidence indeed! She’s probably been stalking him!
‘I asked her what they were playing at, launching the Clean Food Café that Saturday, but she swears she didn’t even know yours was opening on the same day.’
I almost laugh out loud. Of course she knew! ‘So she got over her fainting spell fairly speedily, then? Enough to cook you lunch?’ As soon as it’s out, I could kick myself for sounding so waspish. ‘What did she make you?’
‘Tofu pancakes.’
‘Ooh, how … healthy!’
He’s silent for a moment, observing me with a little smile, while I cringe inwardly and concentrate hard on spooning a lemon pip from the jug.
At last he murmurs, ‘I much prefer your cherry and coconut cake.’
My heart does an odd little leap. ‘Only because it doesn’t contain celery.’
He laughs softly. ‘Well, there is that.’
I’m partly mollified, although I can’t believe Theo would fall for Olivia’s lies. But it’s good that he’s seen Lucy’s foul play in action and is fighting my corner. I wish more people would see her for what she is.
‘The tide will turn,’ says Theo.
‘Wish I shared your confidence. I really need the café to do well.’
‘For your dad?’
I nod, feeling my throat thicken with emotion. I’m hovering on the brink of tears just at the mention of him. I twist my mouth into a bitter smile. ‘We’re hoping for a miracle.’
He looks genuinely sorry. ‘I hope things work out.’
‘Don’t be nice to me or I might cry.’
‘I don’t mind if you do. I’ve got a choice of two fairly broad shoulders here if you need them.’
He regards me solemnly, and I stare up into the depths of his blue eyes and my head spins. For a second, I can’t even remember what we were talking about. Dad. That’s right. I can’t seem to drag my eyes away from Theo’s – and neither, it seems, can he. My heart is suddenly beating so incredibly fast …
Then a crow caws loudly from a nearby tree and Theo’s eyes flicker. He clears his throat and leans back against the treehouse, staring out over the garden.
In the silence, my heart slows its beat, finally steadying to its normal rate. What’s wrong with me? I can’t be attracted to Theo Steel! It’s obvious he fancies Olivia, however disparaging he might be about her food preferences!
‘You need an angle,’ says Theo after a while.
‘An angle?’ I look at him, confused.
‘Yes. Something differ
ent that sets you apart.’
I realise he’s been thinking about The Twilight Café.
‘A USP, you mean?’ It rolls airily off my tongue.
He grins at me. ‘Exactly.’
‘Yes, but what?’ I shrug. ‘What could my angle be?’
He leans his head back, thinking. ‘Something that would get you in the Guinness Book of World Records,’ he says at last. ‘What about the smallest café in the world? Just the one table.’
I laugh. ‘Doubt if I’d make a great living.’
‘True.’
‘Or a café where the staff are all movie star lookalikes?’ I suggest. ‘That would be different. I could have Melissa McCarthy waiting on tables and Tom Hiddleston showing people where the toilets are.’
‘Wages bill might be a bit steep.’
We exchange a warm smile and my insides respond by turning a pleasurable little somersault.
‘Of course … there is an answer that’s staring you in the face.’ He frowns.
‘Go on.’
‘To be accurate, it’s not staring us in the face. We’re actually leaning against it.’
Automatically, I glance behind me.
‘The treehouse. Have your café in the treehouse.’
I stare at him. ‘Are you mad?’
‘No.’ He laughs. ‘I’m actually being serious. Think about it. A treehouse café. You can’t get more unique than that.’
My mind is still rejecting the idea as ludicrously outlandish. But when I begin to imagine what he’s suggesting, I find my heart swelling with excitement. Could it be possible?
‘But how would it work?’ I ask with a doubtful laugh.
My brain is coming up with all sorts of reasons why it absolutely couldn’t. It’s a lovely, romantic idea, but completely nuts.
‘I’d have to have a system of pulleys to bring up the coffees and the cakes. Or one of those dumbwaiter lift-type things. Except it would be cunningly disguised as a tree.’ I nod, grinning up at Theo. ‘Yes, I can definitely see that working.’
He shrugs, conceding it’s a bit far-fetched. ‘I’m not sure the elderly population would spring up the treehouse ladder with the greatest of ease.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. My mum’s friends, Betty and Doreen, managed it the other week. They just needed a very small shove from behind.’
‘You could have a Tom Hiddleston lookalike on double duties at the bottom of the ladder.’
‘Yes! He could be Chief Shover-Upper!’
‘Sounds painful.’
We catch each other’s eye and laugh.
After a while, Theo says, ‘I’ve got a good mate who’s a carpenter. I reckon he could extend this treehouse into an amazing café with a proper walkway and everything.’
‘Walkway?’
‘You know, like one of those swing bridges, where you hold on to the rope at either side.’
I stare at him. He can’t be serious. But there are two deep grooves between his eyebrows as if he’s actually pondering the idea, ridiculous at it sounds to me.
I grin. ‘With a swing bridge entrance, the liability insurance would be through the roof.’
He shrugs. ‘Jake’s clever. He could make it secure enough to pass any health and safety inspection.’
‘Jake?’
‘My carpenter mate. He lives on the south coast.’
I smile. ‘And you’re living in cloud cuckoo land if you think I really could have a café in a treehouse!’
He leans sideways and lazily bumps my shoulder with his. ‘You, Twilight Wilson, clearly have no imagination whatsoever.’
My skin, where he makes lingering contact, fizzes and burns, and I have to stop myself from leaping away in shock.
‘That’s … that’s very unfair,’ I protest stiffly, choking out the words, my throat suddenly as dry as the desert. ‘I have a fantastic imagination.’
Theo moves away slightly and I breathe more easily. ‘But – I also have a foot planted firmly in reality and something tells me a treehouse like that would cost an absolute fortune to build.’
He frowns. ‘Not necessarily. You’ve got the basics here already.’
‘Yes, but it would cost thousands, not hundreds. And I don’t have that kind of money.’
I can’t even pay off the mortgage arrears, never mind fund the sort of project Theo is talking about. Sadly. Because the more I think about it, the more amazing it seems.
Theo is still close enough for our arms to be touching, and I’m breathing in his lovely masculine scent and something lemony that must be his body spray. A surge of desire springs from deep within and spreads like wild fire through my entire body. Stunned, I glance up at him and at the very same moment, he turns his head a fraction to look at me. My heart gives a giant leap at the intensity burning in his eyes.
We stare at each other for a long moment, our eyes locked. My head is swimming and my whole body is pulsing wildly with a desire I haven’t felt in forever.
He moves towards me, his mouth only inches from mine, and when I arch my neck in response, he slips a hand around my waist. A second later, I feel his strong arms pulling me towards him …
I’m slowly melting with desire, past the point of return, aware of Theo’s powerful body pressing into me. His breathing is ragged and suddenly his mouth comes down hard on mine and I feel myself transported on a tide of desire too powerful to resist.
I cling to him, kissing him back as my head spins off into space.
Then abruptly, he pulls away.
Bewildered, I stare up at him, gasping for breath. Despite the warmth of the balmy evening, I feel the chill of the sudden separation keenly.
Theo makes a rasping sound in his throat and springs to his feet, avoiding my eye. I’m at a loss to know what I did wrong. Because it must have been something I did, to make him pull away so abruptly …
‘I’d better be going,’ he says matter-of-factly, looking at his feet, the wooden railing, the garden. Anywhere but at me.
‘Right,’ I mutter at my hands. ‘Yes, of course.’
He stares down at me for a moment, a peculiarly intense expression in his blue eyes, and I wish I were a mind-reader because I’m floundering here, wondering what just happened between us. Then he holds out his hand and after a second, I reach up and he pulls me to my feet. Nervous, I wobble slightly and fall against him, and he steadies me, holding both my arms. But then very deliberately, he steps away from me.
‘Don’t bother coming down,’ he says, heading for the ladder. ‘I can see myself out.’ At the bottom, he walks round so he can see me.
‘See ya!’ He holds up his hand, his usual relaxed smile back in place now there’s a safe distance between us. ‘And think about The Treehouse Café! It could work.’
When he’s gone, I sit there for ages, staring out over the garden, my head a whirl of confusing images and emotions.
He couldn’t wait to get away from me.
What the hell just happened there?
Chapter 22
It’s only when there’s a rumble of thunder, and my heart nearly jumps out of my chest at the sound, that I realise rain has been falling while I’ve been sitting here in a trance.
I’m not sure how long it’s been pattering against the leaves, but it must be a while by the look of the dripping garden. It wasn’t raining when Theo left. I must have been sitting here for a lot longer than I thought.
My chest flutters with panic. I look up at the sky – and at that moment, a fork of lightning splits the heavens directly overhead, lighting the sky like a scene from a horror movie. I freeze, closing my eyes tightly and counting the seconds, which – Dad told me when I was little – is the way to work out the rough proximity of the storm. I barely get to ‘one’ when a long rumble of thunder seems to vibrate through every bone in my body.
The storm is right overhead.
Standing up slowly, my knees are trembling so much, I know there’s no way I’ll be able to get down the ladder and into the hou
se before the next bolt of lightning strikes, so instead, I push open the entrance to the treehouse, stumble over the threshold and slam the door behind me, leaning back against it with relief. I feel frightened and sick, but at least I’m inside now and relatively safe.
The rain is battering on the treehouse roof. The noise is quite incredible. I slide to the floor and sit cross-legged in the middle of the space, with my head buried in my hands.
I can’t believe it.
All the time Theo and I were talking, the thunderous clouds must have been gathering on the horizon and moving stealthily overhead until the sky was turbulent and black, yet I hadn’t even noticed. It had started to rain and I still hadn’t realised. I was so deep in thought about the hasty way Theo left.
And now I’m trapped alone in the treehouse with no safe bed in which to take cover.
That’s what I do usually. I pull the duvet right over my head and lie there, my heart beating frantically, hugging myself tighter when the thunder crashes overhead. Until the storm passes and it’s safe to come out. I feel so ashamed of myself at those times. I know it’s such a ridiculously childish fear to have, but I can’t help it …
*****
The night it happened, I was about ten and I’d been invited to a party.
I remember being excited because Mum had bought me a brand-new red velvet dress and I couldn’t wait to wear it. (Even now, just the feel of velvet makes me shudder.)
It was my friend Diane’s party. She’d turned nine that day and about ten of us were invited to her house for a birthday tea and old-fashioned games like pass-the-parcel and musical chairs. Lucy was invited with her friend, Sophie, but Mum said not to worry. They wouldn’t be able to get at me at someone else’s house. I’d be perfectly fine. I think she secretly didn’t want me to go because she knew what a bully Lucy could be. But she could tell I really wanted to go to the party, so she agreed and tried to reassure us both.
I should have known Lucy wouldn’t waste an opportunity to scare the life out of me.
There was a storm brewing that November afternoon and by the time Mum and Dad dropped me off at Diane’s house around four, the trees were waving their branches angrily and freezing rain was bouncing off the pavements. It was pitch-dark and we had to run to get inside before we got soaked. Mum sheltered under the porch to chat to Diane’s mum, with her coat collar pulled right up, while I said goodbye and ran inside to the cosy room with the Christmas tree, where everyone was gathering.
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