‘I do, I miss it. I miss it all. I miss being that important in his life.’
She felt the ache of longing for those times, wondering, as she often did, how time had passed so very quickly. Jonathan loved to travel, to sit in the sun, excited to swim, try new food, drink cold beer, and let the giddiness of a holiday change his whole personality, as he shook off the responsibility of the day to day and danced in the street, twirling her around and around.
‘Shit!’ Enya simultaneously swore and jolted in her seat, as her car suddenly rocked.
Almost instinctively, her hands grabbed the steering wheel. She looked up to see the front of the silver Mercedes crashing into the passenger door of her Audi. It made the loudest bang, so much so that several of the weary travellers stared and winced. Her face coloured under their scrutiny.
She wasn’t a habitual swearer, but the shock fired the word from her mouth. ‘For the love of God!’
Lost in daydreaming, the loud noise probably had more impact on her than if she’d been more focused on the world around her.
From her vantage point, she could now see the long legs of a man standing between the cars. This was the last thing she needed. Was her car invisible too or just her inside it, she wondered? Unbuckling her seat belt, she prepared for a confrontation with the navy-jean-wearing, car-crashing klutz.
Chapter Three
Enya stepped from the car with a small ball of fear and shock bouncing around her stomach. He had hit her little Audi!
‘Ouch!’
He laughed,actuallylaughed, this not the reaction of one who was contrite, which would ordinarily have been a match to the tinder of anger growing in her gut. There was nothing, as far as she could tell, that was remotely amusing about smacking into her car with his weighty Merc. The conflict, however, arose because he was incredibly handsome. It was shallow, yes, but conflicting, nonetheless. And it threw her.
She ran the pad of her thumb over her wedding band. Her life was set, she rarely looked at a man, let alone studied one. Butthisman! Her stomach gripped and she tried to remember the last time she’d looked in a mirror, wondering whether she’d brushed her shoulder-length, dark curly hair, suspecting it was more bird’s nest than glossy. His hair, in contrast, was grey, longish, and pushed back over his forehead with a defiant wisp of fringe that hung down over his eyes, which were bright with crinkles of kindness at the sides. He looked sun-kissed, his forearms brown, visible from beneath his navy T-shirt, the long sleeves of which had been pushed up over his elbows. His watch was bulky, fingers long, his mannermost charming, yet not schmoozy or slick. He was simply open, smiling and a little taller than her.
Always a bonus.
His mouth was curved in the attractive crescent of someone who was happy despite their predicament. It spoke volumes about his nature. She felt a pull of desire deep in the base of her gut that was as unfamiliar as it was unwelcome. Tensing her jaw, she tried to lift the slight bulge of a double chin that had appeared despite her lean shape, a tiny resistant pouch that irked her far more than it should. It was an action designed to make herself more attractive, more attractive tohim, and the fact that she felt the need to do so at all was unnerving.
Paying little heed to her chin area, he bent down and examined the door, which now sported an ugly V-shaped dent. ‘I am so sorry! It was a second’s lack of concentration, thought I could get around and bam! Entirely my fault. Are you hurt? Shocked, I bet.’
‘No, no. I’m fine.’ She was.
‘Phew, no need to call the feds!’ He was well spoken, not boorish or bullish, and sucked air through his teeth as he laughed.
‘It’s...’ What did she want to say?It’s fine, handsome man... you can bash my car any day if it means we get to chat... you have lovely hair... I expect you smell of lemons...Standing up straight, she wrapped her arms around her torso, tilting her head to one side now, a pose she considered quite coquettish, and one she had not used in an age. Who even was she right now?
‘You should take my details and then if you want to go through the insurance...’ He held her eyeline, still smiling.
‘Yes, of course.’ She glanced at his hands, no rings.
‘I have a friend who owns a car dealership in Bath, it might be cheaper or easier to let him sort it out and I can pay the bill, protect your no-claims, whatever works!’ He raised his hands as if signalling that he came in peace.
‘Yep, whatever!’ She laughed in a girlish way that made her cringe. ‘My husband used to work in insurance.’
Why she felt the need to mention this, she was unsure; possibly to assuage the guilt and taste of disloyalty that was underpinning the whole encounter.
He pulled out his phone and tapped out a text with his index finger.
‘My email, telephone number, obviously, and date and time of accident. That should cover it, shouldn’t it? Ooh, I’ll take a picture!’ He pushed the phone to arm’s length and clicked away. ‘Do we need to do anything else?’
I don’t know, do we?
She liked the way he didn’t assume control or direct her in the way some men might.
‘I think that’s everything.’ She nodded.
‘Great. What number do I send it to?’
‘Oh, it’s zero, double seven, double three...’ She reeled off the number, knowing Aiden always teased her for saying it in a way that apparently sounded most unnatural, but it was the only way she could remember it.
