Jerrica followed Nate back upstairs, carrying the milk and water for Zara, Zara happily following her.
Five minutes later she came back downstairs, heading straight to the stool where I’d sat, checking my phone for any updates, although everyone seemed to have gone quiet.
Jerrica didn’t say anything, putting her hands on my shoulders, waiting for me to look up, and then catching my lips with hers in a kiss that was brief and anything but sweet.
“Goodnight, Jesse.” She stepped away. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I didn’t respond, just watching her ass as she walked away from me and fighting the urge to follow.
CHAPTER8
Jerrica
At Montpellier Airport,there was a Porsche Boxster waiting for us, a very keen and enthusiastic person waiting to hand it over to us, despite it being after midnight because the flight from Charles de Gaulle had been delayed.
I hadn’t driven on the wrong side of the road for a few years, and I hadn’t been expecting to drive at night. I could feel Jesse’s eyes on me as our rather starstruck new friend talked me through where things were on the car, making it almost sound like the car could drive itself.
Since I’d kissed him in Nate’s kitchen, we hadn’t spent as much time together. He’d got Nicky to pick him up most days, as Nicky was hanging round at Kitty’s Café, trying to get his uni work done, and Jesse was at the summer soccer school, just across from the Café. After the soccer school finished for the day, he, Nicky and Rowan would train, then Nicky would drop Jesse back off.
I didn’t know if he’d been taking a taxi to see either of the women he had his relationship with, or whether my kiss had scared him off, but he’d only asked me three times over the last two weeks to chauffeur him around.
I’d missed him. I’d become addicted to his company, the sharp banter we had, the conversations. I missed the scent of his cologne, the curl of his smile, the way he watched people through interested eyes.
Spending just over a week together in the south of France, touring vineyards, was either going to be immensely painful or I was going to embarrass myself further, and then it’d be even more painful.
“It’s thirty-five minutes to the chateau where we’re staying.” Jesse put his hand on my shoulder as he spoke, the lad who had delivered the car to us heading over to the small little Fiat that was waiting for him. “Think you’ll be okay driving there?”
I nodded. The roads would be quiet given the time and that their destination was based in the countryside, and the airport was on the outskirts of the city. “I’ll be fine. It’s what you’ve brought me here for.”
He didn’t respond, just loaded the luggage into the small boot, somehow managing to fit it in. I climbed into the driver’s side and started up the engine, feeling the car’s low purr.
Jesse absolutely loved cars. In the last few weeks, I’d learned more about them than I’d known altogether. As well as the Maserati Jesse had bought, I’d driven two of his other cars, taking them out just for fun along the Cheshire lanes. He’d talked about the cars, explaining in easy terms how they held the roads so well, how they were designed and how to get the best out of them by driving in a certain way. I wasn’t a car lover; as long as it got me where I needed to be without breaking down, I was happy with whatever I was driving, but Jesse’s passion was absorbable.
I felt more confident than I would’ve if I hadn’t had those experiences, so although I set off tentatively, having to keep telling myself that driving on the right was correct, by the time I was at the second junction, I felt okay.
The sat nav was easy to follow, and the roads were almost empty. Jesse started to check the map on his phone when we knew we were getting closer, the dark lanes meaning it was difficult to judge when turnings were coming up. I slowed the car, using my full beam to spot the turning, catching a wooden sign with ‘Chateau de la Lumière’ written on it.
“We’re there.” I felt that tinge of excitement mixed with tiredness from travelling for most of the day. “I can’t wait to see this in the daytime.”
“It might not be as spectacular as you’re thinking. Remember, it’s still being renovated.”
“I know. But even from the photos when they first bought it, it’s still like something from a fairy tale.”
Jesse laughed. “Does your imagination ever stop?”
“No. And you really don’t want to knowallthe things I imagine.” I said it on purpose, because I hadn’t forgotten either of those two kisses, or even come anywhere close to forgetting.
Jesse didn’t reply, something that made me feel uneasy and question whether I’d gone too far, but then I hadn’t exactly hidden that I was interested in more than being friends. Even if he said it couldn’t happen, it didn’t change how I felt.
“Look ahead. You can see it.”
He was right. The outline of the chateau appeared, a couple of lights making it easier to spot now. We were driving along a tree-lined single-track road, the trees clearly the tall cypress trees that were common throughout the area.
For a week, we’d be based here at the chateau, or rather, the building that had been a chateau and was being painstakingly restored by a family who’d moved out here for a new life. They’d had a vineyard in southern England, which they’d sold, wanting to swap English greenery for French skies, so they’d bought an old chateau with several acreage of vineyards as their next project.
The chateau would be an intimate luxury venue for weddings or cookery escapes, or bespoke breaks. The vineyards had been kept running as a business, making wine that was local to the area, and according to Jesse, fucking gorgeous.
This was an investment that didn’t need Jesse’s face marketing it. The owner was the cousin of Manchester Athletic’s manager, and it had been Guy himself who’d suggested to Jesse that he might want to be a silent partner. Jesse was here to decide for himself whether he wanted to, as well as to tour some of the other vineyards in the area just for the hell of it.
