“Where’s Brian?”
“He’s checking supplies in the shed, although I suspect he’s having a lie down after speaking more than two sentences to me today.”
Seb fought to keep a straight face. “What did he say?”
“The first sentence, all of six words, was something to do with cleaning tools. The second one was to tell me I’d worked hard.”
“He’s right. It looks good out here.”
“It’s too neat.”
“It’s why I like it.”
“I know.” Helen took the bag from him and they sat in the shade by the wall. She pulled out the sandwiches they’d made together that morning. Seb had sliced the cheese while Helen had layered it on the bread along with freshly harvested salad leaves from her vegetable patch. “So what’s new in Sebastian Clarke’s dynamic universe today?”
“Three things, actually. This is the first.” He placed his sandwich on his lap and showed her a photo on his phone. “Meet Benjamin Adams.”
Helen’s face broke out into a wide smile. “He’s beautiful!”
“He’s blotchy and grumpy-looking.”
Helen laughed. “All babies are like that when they’re born. Harry and Lucy looked likeRugrats. Helen bit into her sandwich, one of her huge, appetite-fueled mouthfuls that bulged out her left cheek as she spoke. “So what’s the second thing?”
“An interesting proposal from Grice.”
“What does he want now?” Helen chewed as he told her, then surprised him with a laugh. “Well, isn’t he keen!”
“He’s a pain in the ass.”
“I’m not so sure. He grew up in the same place Tom and I did. I get his ambition. He just wants to make something of himself.” Helen told him about her conversation with Grice at the inaugural dinner. “But the poor bugger’s in for a shock if he’s expecting my home to look something out ofHello! Magazine.”
“I have no desire to let him into your house. It’ll be an outdoor interview. The countryside around your place is stunning. The only thing is, he’ll know where you live.”
“But Grice can follow us home any time if he wanted to. He can ask about me in the village. It wouldn’t be difficult to find me.”
“I thought the same thing, but I wanted to check how you felt about it, and if we say no to these interviews, we’ll come across as standoffish and he’ll wonder why.” Journalists could be clever and cunning, but as Grice’s proposal looked so genuine and positive for the campaign, Seb could no longer find fault with the guy’s intentions, especially as Grice had stated Brenda could vet everything he wrote. “So you’re happy to go ahead with these interviews?”
“Yes, I’m game if you are.” Helen ate the last of her sandwich then reached in the bag again, pulling out a tub of strawberries. She picked out a plump one, placed her lips around it, and sucked in the soft flesh. “What’s the third thing?”
Seb had seen Helen eat strawberries several times—she always snagged a couple when she walked past the fruit cage in her garden where they grew in abundance, or from the bowl she kept in the kitchen—and every time, Seb watched, waiting for that moment when she closed her eyes, like she’d done when he’d kissed her on the dance floor, savoring each and every mouthful.
“Sebastian?” Helen licked juice off her lips. “I said, what’s the third thing?”
He blinked. “Um … we’ve been invited to George Hampton’s house for lunch on Saturday morning.”
“Is that the guy who stared at my—”
“Yes.”Damn. He didn’t want to think about that dress and how her nipples had beaded underneath the thin, clingy fabric. Not when she’d just wrapped her lips around another strawberry and proceeded to suck. What had he been talking about just now?Right.The Hamptons.“George lives with his mother, Vera Hampton, who is also a generous campaign supporter. She’d like to meet us. Are you free to attend with me?”
Helen picked up another strawberry.Oh, man.“I’m going out Friday night but I have no plans Saturday.”Another bite, another suck. Another lick.She used her tongue to catch a trickle of juice on her wrist then shook the tub in front of him. “Want some?”
Oh-man-oh-hell-yeah.
Seb took a strawberry. “What’re you doing Friday?”
“I’m meeting my friend Liz at six for drinks. We planned it a couple of weeks ago, but don’t worry. I won’t get drunk and spill the beans.”
They’d already agreed to alter their backstory about how they met for Liz, who knew Helen hadn’t ever been to Canada, let alone had a friend called Jimmy there. Helen was instead to tell Liz the bare truth, that she’d met Seb while helping herself to the buffet, they got talking, then he asked her out. A different story to what the press and Brenda had been told, but if Liz should ever mention the discrepancy, Helen would smooth it over with a simpleyou know how the media always gets things wrong.
