‘Well, you’re driving, and I’ve had enough wine, so I think a walk sounds lovely.’
‘Great. The pier it is, then.’ We were back at his car. He opened the door for me. ‘May I?’ He tilted his head a tiny bit.
I giggled and nodded as he put his hands on my waist, ready to lift me up into the seat again. ‘I’m definitely wearing a longer dress next time.’
Alex stilled, his hands remaining on my waist. I met his eyes. ‘So, there’s going to be a next time?’ he asked, softly.
I felt the warmth of his hands on my skin through the thin silk of my dress, and the hard muscle of his upper arms where I’d rested my hands preparing for the lift. He was looking at me as he’d done at the table, and I was almost definitely sure that this time it wasn’t indigestion.
‘Maybe,’ I repeated my line from earlier. His grip tightened briefly on my waist and he popped me up into the seat, but this time his hands remained there for a fraction longer than they had previously.
Alex drove the short distance to Madeira Drive and parked the car, coming around and helping me out. He grinned as he did so. ‘I really should have warned you about the car.’
‘I told you, don’t worry about it. It all adds to the fun.’
I waited for him to lock up, then began walking leisurely towards the Palace Pier. Above us, stars shyly began to show themselves in the clear sky of twilight. Alex brushed my hand with his fingers as we walked. I took the hint and let him take mine within his own. From the corner of my eye, I saw him smile and he gave the tiniest squeeze of my hand in acknowledgement. It was nice. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had held my hand like this. Someone who wasn’t generally covered, to some proportion, in either mud or foodstuff, that was. At seven, Liam was becoming less enthused at holding anyone’s hand, but Niall still reached up for mine when we went out and I loved it. Even on the times that we shared that hand hold with something unexpected and gooey. But there wasn’t anything gooey about Alex. Not in a bad way at least. Slanting my gaze to him surreptitiously, I took in his profile, felt the little flip again, and smiled.
The pier was busy with locals, tourists and the usual summer influx of language students. We walked across the widening pavement, heading for the point where the pier itself began. I aimed for the thin panel of slats that ran close together in a pathway, ensuring my heel wouldn’t get stuck, and we walked along, enjoying the bustle of the season. As we got around halfway, I stopped suddenly, looking down.
‘Oh, no.’
Alex pinged back a little, still attached to my hand. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked, concern in his voice.
‘My wardrobe choice has struck again.’ I kicked one foot up, pointing at the slim heel of my sandal, then at the slats of the pier’s floor construction. The narrow pathway had stopped, and some of the were gaps were a definite hazard to thin heels.
He smirked. ‘I can always carry you.’
I raised my head, laughing. ‘You most certainly could not! There is no physical way of carrying me that would not be bad. Have you seen the length of this skirt?’
Alex flicked his gaze down, let it linger there momentarily before bringing it back. ‘Oh, yes.’
I gave him a gentle whack on the arm with my bag and he laughed. ‘Look, it’s only this bit. There’s a plastic runner further up.’
I smiled and nodded but inside I felt a bit of an idiot. Apparently, it showed.
‘What’s wrong?’ Alex said, pulling me aside gently until we were no longer so close to a speaker blaring out the latest summer pop fare.
‘Nothing. I just feel a bit of a fool. I mean, I love this dress, and I love these shoes, but frankly, between you having to carry me various places, it’s not exactly the elegant and sophisticated demeanour I had planned to go with for this evening.’
A gentle breeze was blowing in from offshore and a recalcitrant lock of hair escaped from where I’d put it earlier and now dropped down in front of my face. Before I had a chance to move, Alex was there, gently pushing it back, the side of his hand ever so gently grazing my face as he did so. I couldn’t help but watch those hazel eyes as he concentrated on the task. He slid his gaze to meet mine.
‘Elegant and sophisticated can be overrated too, you know. And personally, I am beside myself that you wore that dress. And those shoes. You look amazing. So beautiful. I’ve already had to resist the urge to arrest at least three blokes for leering at you.’
‘I doubt they were leering. And besides, I know I’m not a policeman – woman – person – but even I’m pretty sure that’s not a chargeable offence.’
‘You might be right.’ He smiled. ‘See? Smart as well.’
‘Please don’t tell me you’re the jealous type?’ I was teasing but, in all honesty, I wanted to check.
He shook his head. ‘No. I’m not. I promise.’
‘OK. Good.’
‘That’s not to say I’m thrilled when blokes are blatantly undressing you with their eyes. Call me old-fashioned.’ He shrugged.
‘It’s OK. Jealous isn’t good. Slightly protective is rather sweet.’
He nodded and grinned at me under his lashes.
