‘Right,’ I replied. ‘We’ll see about that.’
‘The whole thing was rigged,’ Joe complained as we crossed the green back towards his dad’s car, sad walrus Squishmallow safely under my arm. ‘Half the loops on the ducks were too small for anyone to hook them.’
‘They weren’t too small for me.’
‘Man probably gave me a bigger hook,’ he sulked. ‘Wanted to make me look stupid.’
‘That would be a massive waste of his time,’ I said with a generous pat on the shoulder. ‘You can do that all by yourself.’
I heard him huff quietly through his nose and squeezed my walrus with delight.
‘Hang on,’ I said as we turned the corner to where he’d parked the car. ‘You said first to three ducks wins. What did I win?’
He pulled the key fob out of his trouser pocket and opened the boot, stashing the damson jam and strawberries safely away. ‘You’ve got your walrus, haven’t you?’
‘And you said the walrus wasn’t the prize.’ I hugged Walter closer because yes, of course I had named him already. ‘So what is?’
‘I’ve been thinking about your sequel,’ he said, one hand still hanging onto the top of the raised boot. ‘Eric went to Alaska to reunite with his brother, but do you think he might also be running away from his feelings for Jenna?’
‘What makes you say that?’ I asked, slightly miffed that I hadn’t already realised it myself.
Joe left the boot open and leaned against the side of the car.
‘From the first night they meet, he keeps telling her he doesn’t do relationships, so falling in love the way they do and then her leaving probably made him feel vulnerable. It makes sense to me that he’d want to put some physical space between himself and the place where that happened.’
‘Sounds like something you have experience with,’ I replied, treading lightly. ‘Any chance you’re projecting?’
He started to shake his head but the gesture turned into a shrug before he could complete it. ‘I don’t know. Vulnerability isn’t a comfortable emotion for me.’
‘I don’t think it’s comfortable for anyone,’ I sat Walter in the boot then closed it carefully. ‘I don’t think it’s supposed to be.’
‘Eric doesn’t do relationships,’ Joe said, looking in my direction but not quite meeting my eyes. Behind him, a wall of weeping willows danced as a car drove by. ‘He wasn’t looking for anything, he wasn’t ready for something so intense.’
‘Neither of them were,’ I replied, fully aware we were crossing into dangerous territory. ‘What’s your point?’
‘I can understand why his connection to Jenna might make him want to run away. Eric and I are a lot alike.’
It shouldn’t have stung but it did.
‘Good to know but I’m not sure where that leaves book two.’ I teased a loose thread on the cuff of my sleeve, winding it around my forefinger until it pulled tight. ‘Sorry, ladies, Eric was only here for a good time, not a long time, it’s not going to work out.’
‘This is when I remind you your book is a fantasy,’ Joe replied. ‘And I’m not Eric.’
‘You might want to tell Aunt Carole that.’ I moved my attention from my cardigan to my pink painted fingernails. I didn’t want to look at him.
But I couldn’t stop myself.
His eyes were on me now, cautious and wary, as though I might bolt at any second. It was a distinct possibility. I’d rather launch myself into the river than endure another second of this terrible silence. Another car went by, rustling the trees as they bent towards him, straining to make contact, but he was always just out of reach.
‘You still want to know what my prize was going to be if I’d won?’ he asked.
I combed a loose strand of hair behind my ear and nodded.
‘I was going to ask for a kiss.’
My breath hitched in my chest, seizing up, unable to escape even when I parted my lips to respond.
‘Maybe you should ask anyway,’ I heard myself say. ‘You never know your luck.’
