Chapter Ten
Harry
It doesn’t take long before we arrive at Brockwood Park Mansion. The car park is to the side of the property, hidden behind a shady copse of silver birch, so it doesn’t affect the mansion’s aesthetics. I could’ve taken Alice to any of the local cafes, but that’s ordinary and I wanted to do something different, that she’d remember.
Although, I’ve never been here before. Fuck, I hope the food’s okay.
By the time I get to her side of the car, she’s already out and gazing around at the expansive grounds. “Wow. It’s almost like being in the country.”
I slide my fingers between hers and tug her close. The location’s great, and the eighteen-hole golf course an award winner, but I’d much rather look at her. “Good morning, Alice.” And then I kiss her.
She tastes as sweet and addictive as last night and a million times better than the lust-drenched fantasies that kept me awake half the night. Slow the hell down…
“Mmm.” She hums with satisfaction as I pull back so we can breathe. “That was worth waiting for.”
I wind a strand of her silky soft hair around my finger. “I like your hair like this.”
“What, pink?”
I frown, considering. To be honest I hadn’t noticed the pink before, but now that she’s pointed it out, I can’t believe I didn’t see it last night. “I mean I like your hair down. Not up in a ponytail.”
Wait, that came out wrong. It’s so much easier when you can just edit a cock-up in coding rather than having to face the fallout of a foot-in-mouth comment in real life.
“It’s my new look.” She smiles up at me, obviously not pissed off, the way Clare would’ve been if I’d made an unintentionally disparaging comment about her looks. Alice isn’t Clare. “I think the ponytail’s had its day.”
We stroll toward the back of the mansion where the cafe is located, and I ignore my phone when it rings. Alice gives me a questioning look, and I feel an explanation is necessary.
“It’s only work. They can wait.”
“How do you know it’s work? You didn’t even check.”
I pull open the glazed door to the Georgian orangery, which now houses the cafe, and decide against telling Alice that the only calls I ever get are work related.
Unless you count Lucas and Mac.
“They’ll call again if it’s important.”
She glances around, obviously impressed by the attention to period detail and the mini fruit trees in pots that are scattered around the perimeter. We make our way to a table by one of the windows, which gives an uninterrupted view of a spiral-inspired topiary, and I pull out her chair.
“Thanks.” She sits and keeps on smiling at me as I take my place on the wrought iron chair opposite her. They might look elegant, but they’re bloody uncomfortable. We should’ve got here earlier and grabbed one of the tables with upholstered wingback chairs instead. “This is all very civilized,” she adds. “I feel underdressed.”
“You look great.” And although she looked fantastic last night, today she is more like the Alice I know.
“Well, so do you.”
I reach across the table and take her hand. It’s like I can’t stop touching her when she’s near. “If you want to go somewhere else, let me know. It’s no problem.”
“Why would I want to go anywhere else?” She glances out of the window at the view. “It’s lovely.”
“I wanted to take you somewhere nice to thank you for last night.” It was a good excuse to ask you out.
For a second she looks like I’ve just stabbed her through the heart. What the hell did I say? A swift mental recap doesn’t raise any red flags, but I’ve obviously missed something. This trying-to-date-without-stuffing-up is hard work.
“Oh, you didn’t need to do that.” She slides her hand from mine and picks up the menu. “I was happy to help out.”
We study the menus in silence, but I can’t help glancing at her every two seconds. She’s no longer smiling, and she’s biting her bottom lip. I might not be an Einstein when it comes to figuring out what girls want, but Alice sure as hell isn’t giving off the same happy vibes she was five minutes ago.
I scowl back at the menu and shift my butt on the hard seat. Screw this. I drop the menu onto the table and lower hers with one finger so she has no option but to look at me.
“Have I done something wrong?”
“No.” She sounds vaguely horrified by my question, and heat rushes to her cheeks, which is distracting, but I’m on a mission and won’t be sidetracked.
“Would you tell me if I had?”
Her mouth opens and then shuts. It’s clear she doesn’t have a clue how to respond, which isn’t inspiring. If Alice won’t tell me when I’ve fucked up, how can I put things right?
She clears her throat and tugs on the end of her hair. I’ve seen her do that a thousand times in the past, but it’s different today. It must be because her hair isn’t scooped up into a ponytail.
“Look.” She takes a deep breath but doesn’t meet my eyes. “I told you last night how much I enjoyed myself. You didn’t need to take me out today just to say thank you. I mean, I thought after, you know, well, I thought maybe you just wanted to have breakfast with me, that’s all.”
I stare at her intently, hoping it will somehow unscramble her words so I can understand what she’s talking about. Only one thing makes any sense. “I do want to have breakfast with you.”
“Well, good.” She gives me a fake smile and resumes scrutinizing the menu.
It’s not often I wish I’d inherited some of the silver tongue that my brother has in abundance, but there’s no way he’d be sitting here without a clue what to say. Fuck no. Lucas is never stuck for words when it comes to chatting up gorgeous girls.
I rack my brains, but only one thing clangs through my mind. She can’t be pissed about that? She was fine when I picked her up, but she sure isn’t now, and I can’t think of anything else that might’ve upset her. Even if it is an inexplicably delayed reaction.
I lean across the table so there’s no chance of anyone overhearing me. “Do you regret what happened in the limo on the way home?”
Her fingernails poke through the faux parchment menu. “Do you?”
“What?” Why’s she turning this back on me? “No. I’ve wanted to kiss you for months.”
Didn’t mean to admit that.
Her mouth opens in what looks like disbelief. Should I be insulted? Why is she so shocked? Encounters are so much easier to handle when you’re in developmental control of all conceivable outcomes.
“Have you really?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Why?”
“Why?” Is she for real? “What sort of question’s that?”
“But you never said anything before.”
“Should I have?”
“Well, duh.” She smiles again. “I had no idea.”
“I didn’t want to risk you leaving Blitz if you found out, did I?”
She laughs, and I grin. Thank fuck things are back on track. Just as I thread my fingers through hers, my phone rings again. Should’ve switched the bloody thing to mute, because there’s no way I’m answering it now.
“There’s one hitch to this plan of yours. I am leaving Blitz in three weeks.”
“Yeah, but not because I kissed you.”
“True.” She brushes her lips against mine. “And we can do a lot in three weeks.”
She doesn’t mean what I want her to mean. Or does she? Before I can clarify, a waiter comes over to take our order and the moment passes. The breakfast turns out to be five stars, and the coffee out of this world. I’m on my third cup when she makes a random comment about Di and Joe, and it takes a second before the penny drops. Apparently, far from having one crazy moment on my couch over the weekend, they’ve been dating for nearly a month.
How did I not know this?
Alice smiles as she pours herself another cup of tea from the small porcelain teapot that came with her order. And more importantly, why did I not know she prefers tea to coffee? “I could see they were meant for each other the day he started.”
“How could you see that? They were at each other’s throats.”
“That’s how I knew.”
I finish my coffee, but it still doesn’t make sense. “Anyone else dating that I should know about?”
“No. And I wouldn’t have mentioned Di and Joe if I’d known you were so clueless about it.”
“That’s harsh.”
She smiles and dabs the corner of her mouth with her napkin before sighing and sitting back on the chair. “Thanks for this. It’s been the best weekend ever.”
“It’s not over yet.” Then I remember something. “Wait, do you need to get home early?”
“No.” The word tumbles out a little too quickly, but I’m sure not disputing her. “I can easily reschedule my driving lesson.”
“When’s your test?”
She shudders. “Five o’clock on Thursday. I don’t want to think about it.”
“You’re not nervous, are you?” Weird, I’d never imagine Alice would freak out over her driving test. She’s always so together.
“I think the correct term is bricking it.”
“Nah. You’ll be fine.”
“Easy for you to say. I bet you never hoped your instructor would cancel lessons, just for the reprieve.”
I laugh. “If you hate them so much, why go through with them?”
She gives me a mock pitying look. “Because I want to drive.”
A brainwave hits. One that will not only help her, but give me a legitimate reason to spend more time alone with her. “If you want more practice this week, we could do an hour after work each day. More, if you need it.”
The shock on her face is priceless. “That’s nice of you to offer, but there’s no way you’ll get me behind the wheel of your Range Rover.”
“Just as well. I wasn’t thinking of that.” Not true, as I made the offer without thinking at all, but I sure as hell have a great idea now. “I know someone. You’ll love the car. What do you say?”
“I don’t know. It might ruin our friendship.” She’s trying to not laugh, and I take her hand and thread my fingers through hers.
“No, it won’t.”
“It’s not like you have much spare time to help me out like that, is it?”
I can tell she’s warming to the idea, even if she’s trying to put obstacles in the way.
“Spare time is overrated. My parents didn’t believe in it. If there was a minute outside of school that Lucas, Mac, or I weren’t doing some extracurricular activity, then it was a minute wasted.”
“Really?” She appears enthralled. “What kind of things did you do?”
I hadn’t expected her to ask that. I’d only shared that about my childhood to show her I can always make time for important stuff. Now, I’ve no choice but to dig into those memories I’d much rather keep locked away.
Where the hell do I start? The three of us survived just about every activity that was on offer.
“Our school offered everything. Sailing, mountaineering…” I pause as Alice’s eyebrows shoot up beneath her fringe. “Debating.” I shudder, the horror still fresh even after all these years. “Sports. You name it, we tried it. Although once Lucas started football, that was it. He dropped everything else, the lucky bastard.”
“Wow, that’s,” she clears her throat, “not exactly what I was expecting. My extracurriculars were far more boring. Stuff like extra coaching in maths.” She pulls a face.
“I wouldn’t have minded that. In the end, they gave up on me, I was such an antisocial arsehole.” I grin to hide my regret that I hadn’t tried harder. Looking back, it wasn’t such a big deal, and it meant a lot to Mum.
A raw shard of tangled guilt and loss scalds my heart. Too late now.
“Well, for such an antisocial arsehole you haven’t done too badly.”
“Not exactly what my parents had in mind, though.” My dad still can’t wrap his head around the fact I make up worlds for a living when I could be saving the real one.
“I guess we can’t always please them.”
Isn’t that the truth.
...
Since Alice is keen, we explore parts of the mansion that’s open to the public before wandering through the mini-maze. We start off holding hands, but by the time we reach the center, my arm’s around her shoulder, holding her close.
“You know what,” she says as she wraps her arm around me, “this would make a great place to hold some of your Blitz parties.”
“What, the maze?” I grin down at her as she slaps my chest with her other hand.
“No. Well, I suppose you could, but I meant the mansion. They hire out their rooms for all kinds of functions.”
“Is this a hint that you want your leaving party held here?” I’m still not thrilled that she’s leaving, but I’ve got used to the idea. Plus, since we’ve leveled up our relationship, it’s not like we’ll never see each other again once she starts university.
“No.” There’s an odd note in her voice. “I don’t mind it being at Blitz. I was thinking maybe for when Oscar Jarrod came over. You could bring him here for a social thing.”
It hadn’t occurred to me to do anything social when Oscar Jarrod arrived, but she has a point. “He likes golf.”
“There you are, then. You and Caleb better practice your swings.”
I’ve played golf a few times with my father and Lucas, but I can’t say it’s really my thing. “I guess deals can be made on the golf course as easily as anywhere else.”
She groans. “That’s not the idea but whatever. Do you want me to make a booking on Monday?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
…
We take a long lunch in my local pub, The Slurping Toad, which, despite its name, offers great food and a beer garden complete with goldfish ponds.
When Alice goes to the bathroom I take the opportunity to check my phone. The most recent text message from Mac snags my attention.
ARE YOU DEAD?????????????????
Jesus, anyone’d think I don’t have a life outside of answering my bloody phone. Without checking any of the texts from Caleb, or the one Lucas left five minutes ago, I shoot off a reply.
No.
Within about three seconds she calls me, so I shove my phone back in my pocket, just as Alice emerges from the bathroom.
Just ask her. It shouldn’t be so hard. Except I don’t want her to think I’m inviting her back home just so I can get her into bed.
Even if I do want to get her into my bed.
I clear my throat, but before I can spit out the words, her phone rings.
“Hey, Mum.” She smiles at me and then pulls an apologetic face. “Yes, sorry. I was going to call in a minute.”
I down the last of my beer and try not to eavesdrop, which is impossible given that Alice is sitting next to me on the timber bench.
“Yes, okay.” She darts me a glance before refocusing on the table. “See you later. Bye.”
She lets out a long breath. “I should’ve switched my phone off, the same as you.”
I think of the are you dead message from my sister.
“Nah, not a good idea. You don’t want your mum to worry.”
She gazes at me as though I just said something amazing. “That’s so sweet of you to say.”
Right. Sweet isn’t how I want Alice to think of me, but there’s no way I’m going to tell her how much I wish it was possible my own mother could still phone me at awkward moments, just to give me an ear bashing.
The last thing I want to do is take Alice home, but we’ve been out for over seven hours, which is a long first date by anyone’s standards. “We could come here after work tomorrow. Grab something to eat.”
“I’d like that. My shout, though.”
“You’re saving for university.”
“I think my savings will survive the splurge.”
I kiss her. Can’t help myself. How am I going to be able to keep my hands off her at work tomorrow? “It’s a deal.”