Was her skin as silky smooth as he imagined it would be?
And when, exactly, had he started imagining how silky smooth her skin might be?
Pull yourself together man, he silently reprimanded himself as his eyes met hers and she quickly looked away.
‘Actually,’ she mumbled, standing awkwardly on one leg now while the other leg appeared to be slowly turning away from him as if she were intending to run. ‘This isn’t a good time to chat. I … I need to finish washing out my brushes. And I need to change. Plus I … I’ve got a lot to do. I’ll see you at the Summer Fayre. Erm. Thanks for calling round though. Bye.’
She shut the door so fast it almost hit him on the nose.
He stood and looked at the paintwork, too close for comfort, and then he shook his head and stepped onto the pavement.
‘Smooth, Russell. Really smooth. The pub and the café are both in the other direction, you idiot. What is wrong with you?’
And then he felt as if that door had hit him, because a sudden realisation had.
He had come here today on behalf of Griff and Grace to find a way to ask Hanna if the rumours and the gossip were true and whether she was in love with Griff.
But although they had asked him to come here, the reason hewashere, was for himself. He needed to know the answer because there was no way that he could do that whole unrequited love thing all over again.
And yet, even if Hanna told him that she was in love with Griff, Russell knew that somehow he would find a way to ask her the question he had just realised he really wanted to ask.
Which was whether there was even the remotest chance that she might consider going out on a date with him.
Huh! So much for being unable to do that unrequited love thing again.
