‘Right, are we ready?’ Jenna extended her right leg forward and bent her left leg, hoping to stretch out her hamstrings before she started running or walking or however best the wobbly, ungraceful forward movement could be described. She’d made sure she’d emptied her bladder and pulled on a newer, well-fitting T-shirt and thick knee-length running tights that held her wobbly bits in place as much as possible, just in case Nick was out there somewhere doing his fifty-mile run or whatever he did.

Please don’t let Nick be out there somewhere. Please be at work.

The last thing she needed was to bump into him again. Although, if they did, she could at least hide behind her friends.

Surprisingly, the book group were all there in various stages of just-woken-up. Mrs Singh and Bridget wore matching burnt orange velour tracksuits, and sleep lines on their faces. Saskia, Faith, Kat and Chloe were all decked out in super, sporty Lycra, and frowns. None of them seemed remotely happy to be here. Evie was strapped tight into her buggy and had been asked not to wriggle, but wriggling was happening. ‘We need to get going before Missy here gets bored.’

‘Ugh.’ Faith lifted her sunglasses and peered out of bloodshot eyes. She had dark circles and smudged mascara and her short, platinum blonde, pixie-cut hair was sticking up in weird places. ‘How can she be so wriggly so early in the morning? All I want to do is lie down flat and not move an inch.’

‘Well, she wasn’t working until the early hours. Or drinking until late. Which was it?’

‘Both.’ Faith grimaced and slid her glasses back onto her nose as she crouched to talk to the toddler. ‘Don’t ever be an adult, Evie. You have to get a job and be responsible. Adulting sucks.’

‘Sucks.’ Evie giggled. ‘Sucks. Ducks. F—’

‘Okay!’ Jenna frowned at her daughter. Did she even know that word? How? ‘Let’s go.’

‘Mamma?’ Evie lifted her feet and kicked them in the air. ‘Foots. Look.’

For a moment there, she’d thought her daughter had learnt something she’d prefer her not to. ‘Ah. Feet. The word is feet, love.’

‘No. One foots.’ Evie pointed to first her left and then her right foot. ‘Two foots.’

Faith laughed loudly. ‘Excellent, Evie. I don’t give two foots about running, but sometimes you’ve gotta just join right in. Remember that, sweetie. Girlfriends are the best thing in the world to have, so when one of them has a hare-brained idea, you have to be positive and join in.’ Faith thought for a moment. ‘Actually, two hare-brained ideas.’

‘Two?’ Chloe bent her right leg up behind her and grabbed her foot, stretching out her thigh muscle. ‘Two hare-brained ideas? What’s the other one?’

Getting you to the yoga studio on time. Hopefully Chloe wouldn’t remember to ask that question again, especially as her brain was likely to be starved of oxygen given her lungs wouldn’t be working very efficiently. The last time her sister had run had been in school. Nursery school. ‘Right. We’ll walk to that lamppost first. Come on. Come on! Fast walking!’

There was a general moan and mumblings, ‘Wait for me.’

‘Whose bright idea was this?’

‘I hate exercise.’

‘What the foot are we doing?’

They were off.

Saskia and Kat gazelled in front, lithe legs eating up the metres. Faith, Anjini and Bridget started a grumpy slow shuffle behind, stopping to look in shop windows instead of concentrating on the job at hand, which left Chloe and Jenna alone in the middle.

‘This is fun.’ Jenna decided that, if she said it enough, she’d believe it. It was a little easier than the last time; she’d chosen the right clothing at least.

‘No, it isn’t.’ There were beads of sweat gathering already on Chloe’s forehead. ‘Don’t ever ask me to do it again.’

‘Oh, Chloe. We’ve just started. You’ll be glad you did it—’

‘At the end, yes I know.’

‘And when we’re done, we need to remember stretching.’ Jenna determined her agenda, sounding her sister out about details for the wedding—which she still hadn’t got a celebrant for. Her heart gave a little jolt. She was running out of time. Definitely this morning, she would phone round—again—and find a celebrant. She would. And plan the flowers. And find a music system. And… so much needed organising, and all she could think about was Nick Welsh’s mouth. And the delicious way he kissed, and the look in his eyes when… Aargh. Right. Focus. Wedding. ‘I’m going to book us into some of Saskia’s yoga classes at her studio. It’s about time we looked after our mental wellbeing as well as our bodies.’

Chloe looked at her and frowned. ‘No it isn’t. I’m happy as I am. I’m happy with my life as it is. I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Not getting married was the best thing that ever happened to me. I didn’t think I’d ever say that.’

Jenna really, really wished her sister would stop saying things like that. ‘Talking of which… has Vaughn ever been married, do you know?’ If Nick wasn’t going to ask, then it was up to her.

‘No. Not that I’m aware of.’

‘I know he was involved with someone a long time ago, but he didn’t actually sign on the line or do the ring thing?’

‘No, no. They were just lovers. Man, this is hard. I thought I’d be able to run easily. I’m so unfit.’ Chloe’s right hand rubbed her right side and she winced. ‘What’s with the sudden interest in Vaughn’s marital status?’

‘Just conversation. Never mind. Not important. Right. Light jogging. Now.’ Jenna shrugged as best she could while trying to stay coordinated and breathe and scheme and talk and push the buggy while jogging. Chloe was always easily distracted with work chat. Here was a good ploy. ‘I’ve got a meeting about a wedding today. Lara’s coming in to chat about the flowers.’

‘Lara? Oh, yes. Lara and Cameron. Halloween wedding at the Old Operating Theatre. Fun! I’ve ordered all the cute ghost favours and bulk loads of cobweb spray. Mum’s made first pass on the dress. Getting married in black. Interesting.’

Almost as good as getting married in active wear. Maybe. ‘Excellent. I was wondering what to suggest for flowers.’

‘Something spooky and autumnal. Dramatic, like gloriosa. Oranges and greens and browns. Or black roses—’

‘Oooh, I have taught you well, young padawan. But I was thinking something more classic. What would you have in your bouquet, if you did it again?’

Chloe’s eyes narrowed as she gave her sister a sideways grimace. ‘I’m not doing it again.’

Jenna had a funny feeling in her gut. Would Chloe kill her when she found out about the wedding? ‘But if you did, what would you pick? Sunflowers… or cascading white phalaenopsis orchids. I love those.’

‘Then have them at your wedding. Why are you asking all these weird questions?’

‘I’m trying to take your mind off running. Look, you managed five lampposts before holding your side. You’re doing well. A bit more training and you’ll knock that five kilometres in the fun run off no problem.’ She was starting to sound like Nick.

Bam. There he was again. Right in the front of her head.

It had been that look in his eyes that had been the final temptation. The struggle that was so obvious, the push-pull of attraction, the fight to ignore it, the heat, the desire. For her.

For her.

Bloody hell.

She felt a shiver run down her spine and a sudden chill in the breeze. Ollie? Again, already? She looked round for white feathers, listened for unidentified car horns. Nothing.

She hadn’t thought about him for days. That had never happened. Never. Her life had been so full of him and now… now it wasn’t. Not anymore. She was losing him. Or, he was leaving her.

Or maybe it was time to let go.

She twisted her wedding ring round and round. Not yet. Not yet.

Never.

This thing with Nick wasn’t going anywhere. The kiss had been an aberration, a one-off. Never again.

‘Wait.’ Chloe forced words out between breaths as she started to slow. ‘Did you say I’m… doing… the… fun… run?’

‘Oh yes.’ And a whole lot more.

‘But—’

‘But nothing. It’s for Evie’s sake. So you’ll come along to the training… and the yoga.’

‘For Evie? Yes. Okay. You’re right. If I don’t die first.’

‘You won’t, you’re doing fine.’ God forgive her for using her daughter as a reason, but she needed something concrete to get Chloe into the running and yoga frame of mind. That way she wouldn’t think it odd to be going to a stretching session on a Saturday afternoon.

‘It’s not that hot yoga, is it? I heard it makes you faint.’

‘I don’t know. It’s Saturday afternoon yoga is all I know. You’ll be fine. I’ll have to get someone to look after the shop.’ Oh yes, another thing to add to her list. None of her friends would be able to do it, seeing as they were on the guest list and bringing food.

Damn and blast. Why the hell had she decided to do this?

For a little while, neither of them had the energy to speak.

Having done a circuit of about two blocks and back, Chloe came to a stop outside Something Fragrant. She grabbed a bottle of water from the tray underneath the buggy seat and gulped. ‘Wow. That’s better. I’m never going to make five kilometres.’

She turned around and watched Mrs Singh, Bridget and Faith meander into view. ‘And they will only manage it if you tempt them with wine at the end, but I can’t see them doing it otherwise.’

Taking the water from Chloe’s outstretched hand and slaking her own thirst, Jenna laughed. ‘I’ll hang a bottle from a stick and carry it just out of reach until the finish line.’

With not a bead of sweat on her brow, Bridget wrapped an arm around Jenna in an uncharacteristically maternal gesture and looked up at the shop front. ‘Ah, look, isn’t it a lovely sight? Our Jenna’s really going places.’

Faith shook her head, still bent double. ‘Great for Jenna. Right now, the only place I want to go to is back to my bed.’

But Bridget’s face was now pressed against the glass and she was making a weird screeching sound. ‘Eek! Look! There. There’s a shadow in the shop. There’s someone in there.’

Mrs Singh pressed her back against the wall at the side of the shop, trying not to be seen by the intruder inside, like a member of the SAS. ‘I thought I saw him before. When we set off, he was in the doorway of the supermarket. It’s the same hat as that kid the other week at the opening. Tyler’s friend.’

Chloe tiptoed to peer through the glass, heart drumming. ‘Is Tyler there too? I thought he was a good kid.’

Jenna peered in too. There was a dark shadow moving towards the office, where the back door opened on to an alleyway. ‘No, looks like he’s on his own. I’m going round the back.’

‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘He’s nicking my stuff, and we’ve caught him in the act. Any better suggestions?’

Jenna ran to the open back door. The bubble glass had been smashed and the lock forced, maybe with something dangerous like a crowbar.

This is not a good idea. He was big. Dressed in black. Hunched over her computer. Stealing her stuff. ‘Oi! You! This is my shop. Get the hell out—’

The moment the words came out of her mouth, she knew she’d made a mistake. He whirled around, glaring at her. His black eyes the only thing visible beneath the stripy hat and a scarf pulled up over his mouth.

‘Hmmpf.’ A blur barged past her, knocking her sideways. Air whooshed out of her lungs. She doubled up, holding her stomach, unable to chase him if her life depended on it. ‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’

There was glass all over the floor of the back office and the kid had got away. This was so not like anything on the TV where the heroine raced after the perpetrator, rugby tackled him and saved the day.

Chloe appeared above her, little Evie gripping her hand, and frowning. ‘Jenna! Jenna, what the hell? Are you okay?’

Jenna felt like Annabel Delacourte. It really was an unnecessary question. ‘Do I look okay? He pushed me over. Did anyone grab him as he passed them?’

‘Sorry. No.’ Chloe shook her head. ‘He ran down Blenheim Crescent, so fast.’

‘You didn’t chase after him?’

Chloe winced and stretched her right leg out. ‘No. I’ve stiffened up. I don’t think I can walk, never mind run. Sorry. But it definitely was the same kid.’

‘Then you can ask Tyler for his details. Is he still at Vaughn’s?’

‘Yes. I’ll go round to see him later. Did he take anything?’

‘Not that I can see. But look at the mess.’

Jenna slumped into the office chair and groaned. Why her? Why her lovely new business? Why now when she was trying so hard? She refused to believe this was anything to do with her and everything to do with the thief taking his chances. But, well, was it a sign that she should give up all of this? Was being independent and successful worth all this hassle?

For a moment, she let her dark mood take over. Then she pulled herself together.

Hell yes, success and independence were worth this and more. Sign or no sign, she was going to work her damnedest to keep this business afloat. At least this time there was no lavender cream involved. ‘Shit. Double shit and bollocks. Sorry, Evie. Mamma said bad words. Stay away from all that glass. Walk carefully round it and into the front shop. Has anyone got a phone? Mine’s in the buggy. We need to call the police.’

By now, the whole running group were crammed into the little office, carefully tiptoeing round the glass. Saskia handed her phone over and Jenna tapped in 999, praying that Nick wasn’t at work but now out for his run. If only she could arrange his timetable for him. If only he’d decide to move to Edinburgh, or Paris, or… Sydney. Yes, the other side of the world worked much better for her.

Chloe looked at her watch. ‘Sorry to do this to you, but time’s ticking on and I’ve got a zillion things to do today. Mum and I can take Evie home, get her sorted and take her to nursery if you like? Then I can get on.’

‘Can’t you stay here and I’ll go?’

‘Actually, I have a meeting at nine thirty on Edgware Road, so I can’t wait. You’ll just have to hang here and see who they send.’

Please not Nick. ‘Can I do your meeting instead? Please?’

Chloe’s eyebrows rose. ‘Sure.’

This was a surprise. Jenna started to feel a flood of relief. ‘Really?’

Her sister shook her head. ‘No. Absolutely not. What do you know about organising a bar mitzvah with two hundred guests?’

‘Er… nothing.’

‘Exactly. So you’ll have to stay here and face your demons. Because we all know you’re worried about Nick being on duty.’

Feigning disinterest, Jenna hoped the redness in her cheeks was just leftover exertion. ‘Nick who?’

‘Ha ha.’

‘Whatever happened to sisterhood solidarity?’

Chloe went through to the front office and collected Evie, calling behind her, ‘This is it in action, lovely sister. It’s for your own good.’

‘Thanks. Thanks a lot.’ Jenna promised to remember those very words—it’s for your own good—at the yoga studio while gently tugging Chloe up the makeshift aisle.

---

Ninety minutes later and still no one had arrived from the police station. God knew how long it was going to take. Thankfully, Faith had nipped home next door and rustled up hot chocolate and a couple of bacon sandwiches. And, to hell with the diet, this was an emergency, which called for emergency food. It was soooo delicious and worth every one of its three hundred and twenty-five calories.

Plus the two hundred and thirty for the hot chocolate. With extra swirly cream.

Which neutralised today’s run/walk/shuffle and put her in deficit for tomorrow’s, the next day’s and probably the whole of next week’s exercise. Probably right up to Christmas. But a girl couldn’t starve to death, could she?

Chloe had swung past with the shop keys, so there was nothing left for Jenna to do but start putting her flowers out for the day, with a little help from Faith who had hung round for moral support. At least she believed in the sisterhood.

They were disturbed by a knock on the front door. A tall man stood there in what looked like a Savile Row Italian suit and designer shoes. Designer hair. Designer smile. Darkest of brown eyes. He stepped into the shop. ‘Hi. Are you open? Only, the sign says Closed, but I can see you’re in here and putting flowers out.’

‘We’ve had a break-in. We’re just waiting for the police.’ Jen pointed towards the shards of glass just visible through the open office door.

The man nodded and grimaced. He looked far too posh to be in her little shop. His voice was crystal. ‘Ah. Sorry to hear that. I’m looking for someone called Jenna. Jenna, the florist?’

‘That’ll be her.’ Faith wiped her hands down her leggings and spoke before Jenna had a chance to utter another word. ‘And I’m Faith.’

‘Hello, Faith, and, er, Jenna.’ He pushed dark-rimmed glasses up his nose. ‘I wanted to thank you for looking after my aunt last week.’

‘Aunt?’ She couldn’t remember looking after anyone.

‘Annabel Delacourte.’

‘Oh.’ Jenna joined the dots. ‘You must be Blake?’

He smiled and it transformed his face. ‘Indeed. I hope she didn’t bite your head off?’

‘No. Not at all. She was a bit shaken up, I think.’ The only thing that had shaken Jenna up had been Nick. The near-miss kiss. Oh, and the fact he’d had a gun. The panic of that morning fluttered around her chest, meshing with her memories of the actual kiss. Please don’t let him be on duty right now.

The man laughed and shook his head. ‘I doubt anything could shake Aunt Annabel up. She flew bombers for the RAF in the second world war. She’s got a lot of guts.’

‘Which had been under examination if I remember. How is she?’

‘Fine. Absolutely fine. Thanks. I wanted to apologise for any inconvenience… you know, with the police.’ He was talking to Jenna, but his eyes kept straying over to Faith. Jenna watched closely. Yes, Faith’s eyes kept flicking over to Blake too. There was something electric going on right here.

‘No inconvenience.’ Just a lot of confusion. Of the heart kind.

He handed her his business card. ‘Right then, well, I was just in the area and wanted to make sure I thanked you on her behalf.’

‘In the area…?’ Faith stepped forward, very unlike her to be so interested in a guy. ‘Just to visit your aunt?’

‘Here.’ He handed Faith another business card.

She looked at it and read: ‘Blake Delacourte. Developer.’

‘I’m opening a gin den across the road. In the old butchery.’

‘A what?’ Faith’s eyes changed from interested to irritation. ‘There? Just across the road. Right there?’

‘Yes.’ He grinned and blinked. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘Yes, there’s a problem. A gin den? There?’

He pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘It’s not really a den, obviously. More of a pub that specialises in gins. My brother runs a distillery, but I’m more interested in the distribution side. And what would be more perfect than a gin den on Portobello Road? Real old England.’

Faith shook her head. ‘When the rest of Britain is closing pubs down at a rate of four a day, you’re going to open one up? You do realise that the demographic is shifting, don’t you? People have lots of other things to do with their time rather than sit in a pub. Or a gin thing.’

Blake took a step back, his hands raised. ‘Wow. You’re taking this really personally.’

‘You bet I am.’ She tugged his sleeve and beckoned him to the shop window. Pointing outside, she said, ‘You see that pub next door? The Duke?’

‘Yes.’ He leaned into the bay window and looked outside, then back at her. His eyes sparked, and for a minute Jenna couldn’t tell whether it was his reaction to looking at the pub or at Faith.

Faith put her hand on her chest. ‘That’s mine. All mine. I sank every last bit of savings I had into it, and I work hard to keep it going. It’s not easy when there are cafes and restaurants with BYO popping up everywhere. And… gin dens.’ She spat the words as if they were poison. ‘There was a gin den down the road, but it closed a few months ago. I think punters prefer a selection of liquor. Like, you know, what they can get in a pub.’

He gave a wry half smile. ‘It’s called economics. Some healthy competition is good for you.’

‘But it won’t be for you.’

‘Is that a threat?’ His mouth twitched. ‘Are you threatening me?’

At that accusation, the wind whooshed out of Faith. She shrugged and smiled, although Jenna knew it wasn’t a real Faith megawatt smile. ‘Of course not, it’s just a warning.’

‘Oh? A warning? About what exactly?’

Faith’s voice turned into her right lads, don’t you have homes to go to? closing time voice. The don’t mess with me one that even regulars were afraid of. ‘That you might not get rich quick with your gin thing, Mr Blake Delacourte.’

‘Ah.’ He nodded slowly. ‘I don’t need to get rich quick. But thanks for the sentiment.’

And then he turned and walked out of the shop, the smile still on his face.

Faith watched him leave then gripped the edge of the shop counter and blew out. Hard. ‘Whoa. Well that went well. Not.’

Jen put her arm round her friend’s shoulder and gave her a sideways hug for reassurance. ‘I thought he was nice.’

‘Me too. At first. But thank God he showed his real colours.’

‘He’s only trying to make a living, Faith.’

‘Aren’t we all? Mine’s not doing so well right now.’ This was news. She’d kept that quiet. But then, Faith was always tight-lipped about her own affairs. Business or pleasure. Her eyes flicked outside to where Blake was standing across the street, looking up at the old butcher’s building. She shrugged resignedly. ‘Let’s finish the displays.’

As Faith went to pick up some asters from a box, Jenna heard a crunching sound. ‘Whoa. Be careful where you stand, don’t want to get glass in your shoes.’

‘It’s getting late and you’re going to lose business if you don’t open up soon. Should I start to clear up?’

Jenna shook her head. ‘Oh, no. I think we should probably still leave it for the police to see. Won’t they be sending forensics?’

‘It’s a break-in, not a murder, but I’ll see if I can get hold of CSI.’

That voice. Behind her. Masculine.

Deep. Safe. Yet dangerous.

A little tease. A lot to want.

‘Nick.’ Her blood began to heat, and not just in a good way. Because when the heck would this all stop? And when would they get onto a better footing? She swivelled and there he was. Of course they’d had to send Nick, because sending someone else would have been far too easy for them both. She didn’t know how to act after the kiss. Things had definitely changed—if not only the way her blood pulsed through her just looking at him. ‘If you’re still training, should you be here on your own?’