A blast of a car horn cruelly broke their connection, and Ashton dragged his mouth away. Looking around, he saw a hulking big truck slowing to a halt in the middle of the lane.
He leapt to his feet and held out a hand to Carla, who looked mortified. He guessed he did, too. He certainly felt it.
When he noticed who was behind the wheel, he groaned. Trust it to be someone he knew and not a random delivery driver.
Adam was grinning down at them.
Shamefaced, Ashton scooted into the side, almost burying himself in the hedge as he did so, wishing it would swallow him whole.
The truck’s window glided down. ‘Want a lift?’
It was Carla who answered. ‘No thanks, we’re fine.’
Laughter billowed out of the cab. ‘I can see that. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’
Ashton began, ‘We were— It’s not what—’ But it was too late. Adam was revving the engine and he tooted the horn as he drove past.
Ashton waited until the truck had rounded the bend and was out of sight, then said, ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—’
‘Don’t.’ Carla’s voice was strangled.
He winced.Way to go, Ashton, he thought sourly.
‘I’m not,’ she said.
‘Pardon?’
‘I’m not sorry.’
‘You aren’t?’
She shook her head.
‘Actually, I’m not sorry, either.’ He was shocked to discover it was true. He should be, but he wasn’t. The kiss had been freaking marvellous, and he desperately wanted to do it again, but he held himself in check and they walked the rest of the way in silence.
When they reached the farm, Ashton asked, ‘Will I see you again?’
‘I hope so.’
‘When?’
‘Up to you.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Yes, tomorrow.’
‘It’s a date,’ he said, and her face broke out into a most gorgeous smile as she replied, ‘Yes, I believe it is.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Carla flinched as the hinges of the back door creaked. She had just kissed Ashton goodbye, and was now trying to sneak into the farmhouse and shuffle off to bed before Dulcie saw her face and realised something had happened.
She could hear the sound of the television coming from the living room, and assumed Dulcie and Otto were snuggled on the sofa. Which was another reason to make herself scarce. They didn’t need her doing a spare wheel impression, and they deserved to spend some time alone.
Tiptoeing through the dining room and into the tiny hall, she thought she’d got away with it, but as she put her foot on the bottom step, Dulcie called out, ‘Carla, is that you?’
Sheepishly, Carla stuck her head around the door, trying to use it to hide some of her face.
