He lets me go, his hand falling back to his lap.
‘What does Beca do for a career?’ I ask.
He casts me a sideways glance, his brow furrowing as he returns his gaze to the river.
‘She works in fashion PR, but does a lot of stuff remotely.’
‘I’m sorry you feel as though you’ve lost another friend.’
He blows a heavy breath out through his lips. ‘I wish you’d been able to meet her under different circumstances.’
‘She said a similar thing.’
‘She did?’
‘Yes, when she came to see me.’
‘I think you would have got on.’
I consider this for a moment. ‘It doesn’t sound like we have a whole lot in common.’
‘True. I mean,shewouldn’t drink a piña colada out of a real pineapple or play pool in a weird bar or buy a dress off the rack at a tourist market,’ he says, his expression teasing. ‘But she has a wicked sense of humour and she’s kind. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without her all these years.’
‘You’ll win back her friendship, Ash,’ I reassure him.
‘I’m going to try,’ he replies solemnly.
This is our last stop of the day. Ash said it was on the way home, but I know he’s just got it in his head that he needs to beat Evan to it.
We go back to the cabin soon afterwards so I can get changed out of my bike gear before returning home. He drives me down to the farm track and there’s a marked difference to his riding style when I’m not wearing proper protection. I felt safe out on the open road, but he’s so cautious that I’m just as relaxed, if a little cold, with only a jumper, shorts and his black leather jacket on.
He slows to a stop and puts his feet down. The sun is low in the sky, bathing the hedgerows in gold.
My arms are around his waist, my chest pressed to the broad expanse of his back. I’m reluctant to move.
Without saying a word, he reaches behind and gently lays his hand on my leg, his bare skin against mine giving me instant goosebumps.
I flatten my palms against the taut ridges of his abdomenbecause I want to feel his muscles contracting again, and I smile to myself when they do. His fingers move downwards and tuck into the crease behind my knee, his thumb stroking the top. I tighten my grip on him and rest my forehead against his back, brushing my lips against his T-shirt before straightening up.
‘Watch yourself on the exhaust,’ he reminds me as I climb off his Triumph Scrambler – I know the make of his bike now.
‘Leave it on,’ he says as I start to remove his jacket. He climbs off the bike.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask.
‘I’ll walk you as far as the workshop,’ he replies.
We wander along the farm track in comfortable silence, past the rows and rows of timber piled up in the yard behind the sawmill. A lorry dropped off a whole bunch of logs yesterday, and soon they’ll be processed and turned into beams and joists for houses. The sound of machinery carries on the wind while I’m working, as does the smell of freshly cut wood. It’s nice. I like it. I like everything about this place, actually.
I glance across at Ash to see the sun shining on his face, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw, the shadows beneath his high cheekbones. When he meets my eyes, his are a clear light brown.
Pain lances my heart.
‘Hey, what happened?’ he asks with confusion and concern, halting at the look on my face.
I shake my head at him. ‘I don’t know if I can do this.’
‘Give it a chance,’ he implores.
