‘It’s clear at the beginning, after distillation, but the magic happens with the herbs,’ he said.
Hope gazed around—at the tables, at the glass bottles, at everything he’d created, and something warmed inside her. He might not be like the artists she’d known in Paris, but the way he was creating this absinthe, he was a genius of another kind of art.
‘May we do the colouring now?’ she asked, itching to help and watch the crystal-clear liquid turn green.
His eyes met hers. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’
Once they were back home, exhausted from their night-time escapades, Hope bathed first before collapsing on the bed. She listened to the splash of water from the bathroom as she pulled the sheets over her, tired but suddenly finding that sleep was evading her. She didn’t want to close her eyes, still excited abouteverything Gus had shown her, and it was the first time she’d felt pure happiness about her work since her first months in Paris, painting in her studio. When she’d still believed that her future looked like being an artist and living on her own in the city.
Coming with Gus is the best decision I’ve ever made. She laughed to herself. Other than deciding to leave home in the first place. What it had shown her was that she needed to be more confident with her instincts, to trust herself more.
Hope stretched out, imagining what her life might have been like if she’d obeyed her father’s orders. Would she be pregnant by now? Would she be allowed to voice an opinion? Allowed to paint, or do anything other than look after a house? She knew the answer to that. Instead of being filled with excitement over learning something new, she would be miserable, a shell of the girl with big dreams that she’d once been. Instead, Hope feltalive. There was a little flicker inside her that warned her what she was risking if she was caught, but she knew that she needed that spike of worry. Without it, they could become complacent, and they needed to be aware of the risks of what they were doing at all times.
When Gus emerged from the bathroom, his hair was still damp and curling a little at the ends. She found her eyes drifting from his hair to his body, the way his top clung to his equally damp chest. Hope swallowed, hard, as warmth spread up and down her body; tendrils of desire making her fingers clench in the sheets as she tried to find words for what she wanted to tell him.
‘Goodnight, Hope,’ he said.
She didn’t take her eyes from him as he walked across the room towards the bed already made for him on the floor, knowing that if she did, she’d lose what little confidence she had. That the words fighting for release in her throat would disappear.
‘Gus,’ she said, her voice so soft it was barely audible.
He looked at her, and the heat in his gaze told her that he was thinking the same thing she was. Something had changed between them, but he wasn’t going to do anything about it until she made it clear to him what she wanted. She’d always been attracted to him, had known she was in danger of falling in love with him from the moment they met, but after the evening they’d just shared…
Say it. Just say it.
She took a deep breath. ‘You don’t have to sleep down there tonight.’
Her voice was more than the whisper she’d thought it was, and she held his gaze when he looked up, unable to pull away from those ocean-blue eyes.
Hope saw the way his throat was working, as if he wasn’t sure what to say or how to move.
‘You’re certain?’
She patted the empty space beside her with more confidence than she felt. ‘I’m certain.’
When he hesitated, Hope held out her hand, her stomach dipping when he took it, his fingers connecting with hers as she pulled him gently towards her. Gus’s weight settled beside her, his arms gentle around her as his lips found their way to her hair.
They lay like that, his breath against her skin, her fingers dancing over his arms and through that still-damp hair, for long enough that it felt like forever, until Gus’s lips slowly made their way to hers.
‘I love you, Hope,’ he whispered.
Hope didn’t know what was going to come next or what their future would look like. All she knew was that she’d never wanted to be anywhere other than in the arms of the man holding her so gently, as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
‘I love you, too, Gus,’ she murmured.
And when his hand slid down her back, teasing against the hem of her nightdress, skimming against her bare skin, she knew that there was no going back. Not from this.
Not from Gus.
18
PRESENT DAY
While Mia sat in the little foyer of her hotel waiting for Joe, she took out her phone to check her messages. She smiled when she saw there was one from Ella, although as soon as she read it, she wished she’d never told her about Joe, because she was relentless.
Have you fallen in love with the bartender yet? When are you seeing him next? And why have you not sent me a photo of him?!
Mia shook her head, her thumb hovering before tapping out a reply. She could have put an end to the banter by telling her she wasn’t ready for anything to happen with any man, but she didn’t want to. She’d kept so much of herself back from all of the girls, and there was something liberating about just being Mia to them. About them being invested in her little holiday romance and wanting her to have some fun.
