Twelve
For one brief and wonderful moment Hanna had thought Russell was going to kiss her when he’d dropped her off yesterday evening. But, of course, he hadn’t. Had she been imagining the looks he had given her throughout that glorious day? Or were those looks of empathy, not of something else entirely? Did he feel merely friendship and compassion for her, even though she was sure she had seen a hint of something more in his eyes?
She’d considered inviting him in, but an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach had stopped her. She didn’t want to push her luck, and having him in her cottage on a sultry summer evening, or sitting in the garden with him, drinking chilled white wine, and watching another beautiful sunset like the one the night before, might have made her forget herself. She might have asked him to stay. And if she’d done that, there was a very good chance he’d have run in the opposite direction.
The only thing she really knew for sure about Russell’s love life was that he was in love with Hope for some time. She’d heard that he’d had girlfriends in the past and, unlike Griff,some of Russell’s had lasted for more than a few weeks. One or two had lasted for a couple of years. Also, unlike Griff, no one mentioned Russell having one night stands. Griff, on the other hand, seemed to attract women like moths to a flame, and most of those women got burnt. But, of course, that had been because Griff had been in love with Grace for most of his life, and no other woman had ever meant anything to him.
Russell had told Hanna yesterday that he was completely over Hope. He hadn’t said he’d met someone new. Did that mean he was free to fall in love again? And would he? Or would he decide it was time he played the field? Would a hook up with Hanna, even for one night, be something he might consider?
But she didn’t want one night of sex with him. Although if that was all she could get, would she say no? She wanted more though. Much, much more. And that, of course, was the problem. She wanted him to love her. To want her. To need her. To be unable to imagine his life without her by his side. That’s how Griff felt about Grace. Could Russell ever feel that about Hanna?
Or would he always just think of her as a friend?
Or worse still, someone to pity?
That thought deflated her a little, but she soon pulled herself together. She had today to look forward to.
Russell had sent her a text last night to wish her pleasant dreams. Which had worked, because she’d spent all night dreaming about him. He’d also said in his text that he’d pick her up around eleven a.m., which was later than she’d hoped.
But the sky was blue, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, what more could she ask for? For now, at least.
Russell looked gorgeous and the sight of him had taken her breath away for a second as she’d opened the front door. His golden blond hair seemed to shimmer in the sunlight even more this morning, and those beautiful blue eyes sparkled so brightlywhen he looked at her, that she had to look away. She quickly took in how his navy blue trousers hugged his hips, and how his pale blue T-shirt clung to his perfect torso. She was sure she could see the outline of a perfect six-pack beneath that cotton T-shirt and for a moment all she could think of was peeling it off him and running her hands over his bare flesh.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, concern evident in his voice as he’d clearly mistaken her quiver of delight at the thought of him naked, as a shiver. ‘You didn’t catch a chill yesterday did you?’
‘No. I feel great, thanks.’
She felt even better as the day progressed.
Folkestone was heaving with locals and tourists alike, and the market was full to bursting as everyone jostled against one another. She had never seen the place so crowded. Russell took her hand so that they wouldn’t get separated in the throng, and at one point, he even put his arm around her in a protective fashion.
‘This is crazy,’ he said. ‘Shall we get out of here?’
She hesitated for a moment. Would he let go of her if they did? An elbow in her back made her mind up.
‘Good idea. At this rate, we’ll be black and blue all over.’
Their eyes met briefly. Had he had the same thought as she had in that second?
She’d like to see every inch of him, black and blue, or tanned and white.
‘This way,’ he said, with a distinct catch in his voice.
The Harbour Arm was just as crowded and they decided to give The Lighthouse Champagne Bar a miss and head directly to the Italian restaurant.
‘There’s a garden at the rear,’ he said, ‘so we can sit out there instead. The view might not be quite as scenic, although as I’ll be sitting opposite you, it will be for me.’
She almost wished he wouldn’t say things like that. Unless he meant them. And he didn’t, of course. She knew that.
He had been honest about the food though. It was the best platter of antipasti she had ever tasted and the colourful, bite sized delicacies were displayed like a work of art. Fresh seasonal fruits and vegetables were sliced, diced, or left whole in the case of grapes. Fried courgette strips, sweet roasted and diced red peppers, marinated olives and artichoke hearts, plump little balls of mozzarella, slices of gorgonzola, creamy fontina, and a nutty and flavoursome Pecorino Romano, along with salami, prosciutto and capicola all vied for attention. Warm, toasted bruschetta with melting Gorgonzola, topped with Parma ham and honey, and sautéed prawns with garlic and chilli also tempted the taste buds. That first course alone was enough to fill Hanna up, but the main course she had chosen of baked salmon with a pistachio, honey, and herb crust served with artichokes braised in white wine, was to die for. She couldn’t manage dessert and neither could Russell, who had eaten the same main course as she had, but he had added Italian roast potatoes.
‘We’ll have to come back another time and have dessert,’ he said, when Hanna told him she was full. ‘Or stay here all day and wait until we’re hungry again.’
‘I don’t think I could eat another mouthful until tomorrow.’ She leant back in her chair and puffed out her cheeks, and then, realising that that wasn’t the most attractive pose to adopt, she sat upright.
‘Same here. I’d suggest we come back tomorrow but it’s the Summer Fayre this weekend so I need to be there.’
How had she forgotten about the Summer Fayre? Not only was it an annual event in Betancourt Bay, held in the grounds of Betancourt itself, there were posters and flyers plastered everywhere promoting it. Even here in Folkestone. Not only that, Russell had already told her he had come home especiallyfor it. And Grace and Hope had told her weeks ago that Griff had employed Eversley Events to be in charge of the catering this year.
