The taller man’s mouth quirks properly this time, an amused glint in his eyes. The shorter man takes a tiny step back, as if he’s trying to blend into the display of eucalyptus.
“Sorry,” the taller one says, voice warm and easy. “We didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t,” Christina says at once. “You’ve arrived at exactly the right time. We were just discussing how Emma here needs to get out more.”
Fantastic.
I can feel my face blazing.
The tall one looks at me again. Not in that horrible assessing way some men do. Just… looking. As if he’s genuinely interested in whether I will join in the joke or bolt for the back room.
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.
“I, um,” I manage.
Christina, naturally, sails on. “Don’t mind her. She gets nervous around strangers.”
The shorter man nods. “Same,” he says quietly, which somehow makes me feel marginally less alone.
The taller man shifts his weight, that lazy ease still there, but there’s something gentler behind it now too.
“Well,” he says, grin tugging at his mouth again, “if you ever fancy practising not being nervous around strangers, I volunteer as tribute.”
My brain immediately decides to stop working.
Christina makes a noise that is half snort, half delighted gasp.
I open my mouth to respond, but the only thing that comes out is a tiny, undignified squeak.
Brilliant.
He watches me for a moment, and there’s nothing unkind in it. No judgement. Just a friendly curiosity, like he’s giving me space to find actual words.
Christina beams, far too ready to escalate the situation, and I desperately drag my gaze away before she can make it worse.
This is not going to end well… for me or, I have a slight suspicion, my heart.
Chapter 3
Alex
Well done, you idiot.
The second her cheeks went from pink to red, I should have backed off. She looked as if she’d been dropped into a quiz show she never applied for, and there I was, tossing in a cheeky line like a prize muppet. Most people would have batted it straight back. She didn’t. The way her shoulders tucked in, the way her gaze dipped to the counter… she clearly wasn’t comfortable.
And yet I still said it. Brilliant.
I clear my throat and try again, behaving like an actual adult. “Right. Before I make an even bigger fool of myself… I’m Alex. Alex Harris. And this is Phil Webb.” I lift the mountain-shaped donation tin. “We’re with Fellside Mountain Rescue. We were hoping you might take one of our collection boxes for the counter.”
The blonde studies my outstretched hand as though she’s deciding whether handshakes are still socially acceptable, then gives it the quickest, lightest shake in recorded history. “Um… sure. By the till is fine.”
Her voice is soft. Careful. Shy.
Her friend behind the counter is anything but. “Thank goodness someone here has functional vocal cords,” she says brightly. “I’m Christina. And this blushing goddess,” she nods at the blonde, who looks ready to retreat into a flower display, “is Emma.”
Emma shoots her a glare sharp enough to fell a small tree. “Ex friend.”
I can’t help the grin. “Nice to meet you both.”
