‘Why didn’t you?’ It was a perfectly reasonable question.
‘Because Sam kissed Amelia when they were at the highest point of the ride,’ I said, knowing I was opening myself up to his disapproval with those words.
‘Ahhh,’ Nick said, drawing out the word carefully. ‘And we didn’t want to recreate that memory in a photograph because…?’
He was teasing me, rather than flirting, I knew that. He was feeding me the line so I could answer it with perfect timing.
‘Because there was a good chance I’d have thrown up all over you.’
Nick’s laugh was rich and rumbling; it rose up as though from a well somewhere deep inside him. He was athrow-back-your-head,don’t-care-who’s-watchinglaugher, and I was fascinated by how comfortable he seemed with the many glances that were thrown his way.
‘Good call,’ he said at last. ‘It would probably have put me off kissing for life.’
Like a chameleon, I could feel my colour changing once again. In the space of half an hour I’d gone from pea-green to deathly white and was now a hot flushed pink. I hadn’t blushed at the thought of being kissed by someone since my teenage years, but I was definitely doing it now.
*
Walking between the various attractions gave us time for light conversation and banter, without having to venture into anything more serious. We chatted happily about books and how I’d ended up working as an editor in New York, which segued quite naturally into why he’d chosen to be a vet.
‘I’ve a feeling my dad would have disowned me if I’d decided to do anything else.’ He smiled at my curious expression. ‘Third generation veterinary surgeon,’ he explained.
‘Your father must be incredibly proud of you.’
‘I think he is. Not that he’d ever admit it, mind you. You know what dads are like.’
I could have left the statement hanging in the air. There was absolutely no need to answer it, and no one could have been more surprised than me when I chose to do so.
‘Not so much,’ I said sadly. ‘Mine died in an accident when I was eight years old.’
I didn’t cry when I said that anymore; I hadn’t done for years. But there was such a look of compassion on Nick’s face that I was in real danger of losing it.
‘I’m so sorry, Lexi. That must have been very hard on you.’
I nodded, not quite ready to trust my voice for a moment.
‘Amelia and I were always close – despite the age gap – but when something like that happens… well, she was the one who got me through it. She must have been hurting every bit as much as I was, but she parcelled up her pain and concentrated on helping me through mine. When I was distraught, she was always there with a hug to anchor me. And then later, when the anger of losing Dad kicked in, she passed me crockery to throw at the wall and break.’ I gave a small laugh. ‘And then she passed me a broom to sweep it up. She was there when I needed her. Which is why now, when she’s lost and confused about everything—’ Damn it, those tears were much closer than I’d realised after all.
Nick surprised me by reaching out for my hand. ‘It’s okay,’ he said, squeezing my fingers gently. ‘You don’t have to say anything else. But it’s easier to understand now why you’re doing this. Why you’re willing to try absolutely anything to help her.’
Our conversation had slipped way off course and there was only one way I knew to get us back to the easy camaraderie of before.
‘But you still think I’m a little crazy?’ I said, smiling so he knew I was joking.
‘Oh, absolutely,’ he replied.
*
We were two-thirds of the way round the park and the camera reel on my phone had more than enough faux memories of Amelia and Sam’s date at Lassiters. It was probably time to set Nick free to enjoy the rest of his day off. And yet whenever I tried to summon up the words to release him, they were hard to find. I was honest enough to admit the reason: I was having a surprisingly good time and I didn’t want it to end. And perhaps I wasn’t the only one feeling that way, because Nick seemed to be enjoying himself too.
We walked in companionable silence, the only sound being the distant rumble of carriages thundering on a track, accompanied by a series of shrieks.
‘Are you hungry? We could grab some lunch,’ Nick suggested, consulting the map, which he was now holding. ‘There’s a pizza place near the exit.’
We were at a junction on the pathway, standing beside a signpost with two arrows: one directing visitors to the way out, the other to the park’s only roller coaster.
‘There’s one last ride I’d like to go on, The Cobra. Amelia mentioned she’d bought a souvenir photo of them on it.’
I’d already explained to Nick that unlike the photograph I’d taken of him on the beach, today hadn’t been about recreating specific snapshots.
