I rolled onto my back, and he shifted with me, draping himself half over me like a determined golden retriever who’d found his favourite toy and refused to give it up. His hair stood up in soft peaks, making him look sweet and sexy, and impossibly tempting.
Those blue eyes opened slowly, squinting at the pale January light leaking through the curtains.
‘Morning,’ he said.
‘Hey.’ I rolled over briefly, grabbing two mints and popping one in each of our mouths.
‘Are you saying a stink, Princess?’
‘No matter how hot you are, even you get morning breath after a night on the beer.’
‘Terrible lies,’ he groaned, ‘But this must mean you want me to kiss you.’
‘I do.’
‘I’m taking that as a marriage declaration. Merv will back me up as a witness.’
‘Merv isn’t even in the room.’ I giggled and snuggled into his chest.
‘Can you prove that to whoever is in charge of weddings?’
Eventually, he pulled back and studied me for a long moment, and it hit me: he really saw me. Not the polished version I gave everyone else. Not the efficient, put-together Amanda I was so good at performing. But the full-on messy version.
And he looked like he liked what he saw.
Which was absurd.
‘Otterleigh Bay’s got plenty to offer, you know,’ he said, his voice dipping into that coaxing tone he used when he was trying to win someone over. ‘You don’t need to run off to some sun-soaked beach to mend yourself. You could stay. With me.’
His thumb brushed the inside of my wrist, sending affection roiling through me.
‘There are pastries. And sunshine if we walk up to the headland early enough. And I’d very much like you to stay.’
My heart flipped, stupidly, the way it only ever did with him.
I looked away, because meeting his eyes would give me away.
He’d see that I wasn’t right for him at all.
He deserved someone like Claire, warm and sweet, who fit in here.
Someone who wanted a village and a house full of children, and everyone up in their business.
Someone who wasn’t me.
‘I can’t,’ I said softly. ‘I really can’t. The Leadbetters will be back tomorrow, and I’ve already stretched my welcome. I’ve got work piling up, and flights to look at, and clients who’ll need me and?—’
‘And what doyouneed?’ he interrupted..
The truth was simple: Him.
But also complicated. I needed my career, and Uber. And the anonymity of the city. Someone who wanted to travel with me, and who only wanted one kid, far into the future.
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘Everything feels lovely here. Too lovely. It’s been weddings and fairy lights and everyone high on romance. It’s a new year, and I’m tired and sentimental, and it’s too easy to be wooed by something that it’sn’t reality.’
Something flickered in his face, and he tried to hide it, but I saw it before he could. Pain.
It felt like being stabbed with a shiv I’d fashioned myself.
