“Think they want a writer in residence?” She took off her sunglasses, putting them down on the table. “I’d be happy to volunteer.”
“Live here from May until October, spending your days writing and evenings holding workshops? That sounds like a plan. Mention it to Carina.” The thought of her not being around Manchester didn’t sound like a plan to me. I bottled away that realisation to think about later.
“There’s a group of writer friends I have who would definitely come out here for a retreat, you know, to get some writing done and sample the wine.” She looked around the fields that laced where we were sitting, the early evening sunshine bathing everything in a golden glow.
“Have you met any of them?” Since Jerrica had moved in with Nate, I hadn’t seen her with any friends who’d visited, although I was aware she’d had a weekend in London where she’d met up with some people from university once.
She nodded. “Just two. Most of my writer friends are in America. Amy’s in Stoke and Elizabeth’s in London, and we’ve met once. The rest are online.” Her smile was half sad. “That’s been the most difficult thing: my event planning job was facing people every day, sometimes seven days a week. I now spend days just with the people in my head, so there are times when I think I’m going a bit mad.”
I smiled with her, because she wasn’t mad at all, but I got what she was saying. “Living with Nate suits you then.”
“Most of the time, although I feel bad sometimes because I’m pretty sure he’d like some time with just him and Amber and the girls. Not that he’s ever said that.”
“I think he’s glad you’re about to help. Especially keeping an eye on Amber in case anything goes wrong.”
Nate kept it well hidden how much he worried over Amber’s pregnancy, even from her. It wasn’t a high-risk pregnancy, but it was bordering on it, and they’d had a scare earlier on. He’d mentioned to me before we left for France that he was having nightmares about things going wrong and that Amber’s due date couldn’t come soon enough. I also knew he hadn’t shared this with his sister, and especially not Amber.
Jerrica smiled, sipping at the wine. “But once the baby’s a few months old, they’ll be ready for more space. I can’t stay there indefinitely.”
“You can. That house is big enough.” I’d managed to polish off a whole bowl of olives without even realising it. Some sort of bird of prey hovered in a nearby field, looking for dinner that definitely wouldn’t be olives.
She shrugged. “It is, but that’s not the point. I might look at a shared house in Didsbury or somewhere like that. I don’t want to live on my own, because then I’d end up only speaking with the people in my head, and therein lies the madness.” She looked completely fucking amused at the idea.
I chuckled, topping up both of our wine glasses.
Gérard popped back up, bringing little plates straight from the kitchen, talking us through what they were and where the ingredients were from. The carafe of wine was replaced too, with fresh glasses.
“I think the writer-in-residence idea might have legs. I could live like this every night.”
Her eyes were bright with enthusiasm and laughter, the light catching her hair and making it appear as if it was threaded with gold. I’d noticed before how pretty she was, even when I’d turned up at Nate’s at stupid o’clock in the morning and she’d just gotten out of bed with wild hair and creases on her face from the pillow. Tonight though, she glowed with the sunshine from the day and the warm air, her enthusiasm for being here and talking about her books lighting her even more.
We carried on talking and eating, sampling the wine that Gérard appeared with every so often. I found out more about her books and what she had planned, listened to her talking about the marketing that went on behind the scenes and how she was figuring out what was working for her at the moment.
The sun dipped down for the night, candles were lit, and the night air was filled with the sound of crickets.
It felt like a date.
Or what I imagined a date felt like. I hadn’t been on a whole load of dates, especially recently.
I hadn’t been with a whole load of women who made me want to give them a flower just to make them smile, or make sure they were warm enough in the evening air because the idea of them not being comfortable just wasn’t okay.
Panic bubbled under the surface of my smooth, the same sort of feeling I had when I fell in the deep end of a swimming pool and I couldn’t swim — swimming lessons weren’t on my mother’s agenda when I was a kid, and when they were taught at school, I was rarely in.
I hadn’t been taught how to do this either. Healthy relationships weren’t something I’d had much experience of watching, other than the ones my teammates had somehow managed to evolve into.
Even Rowan Reeves seemed to manage it.
As we carried on talking, laughing, eating, I checked myself. This was Nate’s sister, and her brother knew too much about my tastes.
Jerrica Morris was too perfect for a boy like I’d been.
CHAPTER10
Jerrica
I’d really thoughthe might’ve kissed me.
It was one of those nights I would write about in a book some time, one of those moments which was almost too perfect to be true. Jesse was easy to be with, his bad boy exterior melting the more I got to know him. His interest in me felt genuine, and his smiles were given freely.
