The girl inside me danced. The thirty-five-year-old woman that made up the rest of me cursed.
“I think I’ll like your cherry pie.” He almost drawled it, despite being brought up in Manchester.
“Stop it. The sun’s clearly getting to your head.” I shook my head, hands on my hips in what I hoped was a matronly manner. “There’s no flirting!”
“So flirting is not allowed in the kitchen?” He wriggled his eyebrows in a most annoying way. “Or anywhere else?”
“No. So stop it. I’m too old for you.” I’d said this line so many times, and not just when Jude was there.
“Says who?”
“Jude, you’re twenty-five. You’re a baby. You want to party like a footballer and live the lifestyle that men your age dream of. The fast cars, the models, the sponsorships from trendy brands – you don’t need a woman like me who isn’t interested in living like that. I’d spoil your fun. Ispoiltyour fun.” I’d felt like his big sister, telling him to go home rather than party with his friends after a game. He’d left with me, not going out with the other players, saying I was giving him a lift home, or I was on at him about his alcohol intake – Jude had never had much of an issue saying no to a drink even without me being there. He played it up, preferring to go home with me rather than carry on partying.
He didn’t say anything, just folded his arms and looked at me as if I’d said something amusing.
“So don’t flirt with me. Please.” I hung my apron up on a peg with the others.
“What are you looking for, Neva? What is it that you want? Because since we stopped going home together I’ve heard you’ve gone on dates with men who just aren’t - ”
“Aren’t what?” Although I knew the answer to that.
“They aren’t, well, they’re not – I’m trying not to be a dick here.”
I frowned. “What do you know about the men I’ve been on dates with? And why would you be interested?”
He smiled as if he had the answers to everything. “Because I couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to date me, but you’d go out with men who weren’t even in the league below you. I just don’t get it, Neva. I was your dirty little secret twice a week for nine months, with you telling me I was too young and too much of a kid for something serious, but I don’t see you with my replacement.”
That stung. I undid the tie from my hair that was struggling to keep all of my hair in place. I’d bobbed it a couple of years ago, the first time I’d had my long hair cut since I was twelve and while I loved long hair, the bob was so much easier to manage..
Jude looked mesmerised by it, his eyes turning darker. I wondered if he was remembering how it’d felt threaded through his fingers, and whether he thought I’d messed about with it on purpose.
I grabbed hold of it and twisted it round into a messy pony tail, retying it quickly. “Sorry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, bringing up the past.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t.” It was a lie, but not because of the reasons he was thinking. “Let the girls know I’ll be outside in a minute.”
He nodded, not smiling and departed, leaving me wondering what the fuck had just happened.
All Amber’s little boy wanted to do was to play in the pool like his two big sisters. Unfortunately for Oliver, he was only two, which meant he couldn’t dive and run about like they were doing. They didn’t have the patience to include him all the time either, which meant my heart strings were pulled too tightly, so me and my polka red bikini were in the pool, helping Oliver to have as much fun as his sisters.
“Here.” Nate swam over to me, avoiding an inflatable flamingo. “The girls have got mojitos out. Go and enjoy.”
I beamed at the dark-haired little man who was so much like his daddy, only with all of his mother’s dark hair and eyes. Like Nate, he was a good-natured soul and hadn’t even gone through the terrible twos, being quite amenable to everyone and everything.
“I’m good here with him, honestly.”
Nate shook his head. “Seriously – mojitos. Me, Jesse and Rowan are going to take them to the beach in half an hour anyway and get burgers and shakes for them on the way back. You’re not our unofficial babysitter.”
“You know I don’t mind.” I really, really didn’t. Especially when it came to Oliver.
Amber’s pregnancy hadn’t been planned and for a few days she hadn’t decided on what she wanted to do. I’d struggled, wanting a baby so much myself even those years ago, and being incredibly jealous that she was pregnant. We’d gotten over it. I’d been ashamed of how I’d behaved and apologised profusely, although it had been hard after Oliver was born.
Oliver went to his daddy, leaving me to pull myself out of the pool, the afternoon sun gorgeously warm.
“You look like a model getting out of there!” Dee yelled over to me, a mojito already in her hand. “Like something from aJames Bondfilm.”
I laughed, pretty sure I didn’t, but it was nice of her to say so. I saw Jude looking over at me, not even trying to hide his stare.
