One unwise flirtatious conversation and a shocking realisation later, her mood had crashed into the sea. Now she felt decidedly odd and pulled in two different directions as she strolled along a deserted street, lined with plane trees and historic buildings, with the sounds of the crashing surf in her ears – strolled next to a man who wasn’t at all the friend she’d wanted.
But hewasGabri.
‘Shall we eat here? I will ask for that table in the corner. There is a little sea view.’
She studied the menu at length, realising she was putting off the inevitable conversation.
‘I don’t know how to choose,’ she mumbled. ‘It all looks so good. I adore clams, but I’m also intrigued by the octopus tentacles that lady has.’
His only response was a lift of his shoulders. She glanced up to find him with his lips pressed together.
‘Huh, you don’t like seafood!’ she remembered. ‘How is that even possible when you live here?’
‘Perhaps it’s possiblebecauseI live here,’ he said sheepishly. ‘I do like fish, but I prefer it when I’ve caught it myself. But don’t deprive yourself of the tentacles if that’s what you want to eat.’
He gave her a small smile, just enough to hint at the devastation a grin could cause if he ever granted her one. Toni’s head was a mess, completely unable to accept that she’d spent over a year chatting withthis manonline and never had the faintest clue he could make her heart flip just with half a smile and a few drawled words.
It was inconvenient, to say the least.
He ordered a lemon soda and she followed his lead with only a brief, forlorn thought for the Aperol Spritz she’d imagined enjoying by the beach. But she probably should keep her wits about her for this conversation – whatever it was going to turn into.
With their food orders also given – she decided on the clam linguini in the end, because clam linguini was always a good idea – the silence between them grew too long to be comfortable.
He shifted every few seconds, swallowing audibly. ‘I am very sorry I accused you of hiding your family,’ he blurted out. ‘You don’t owe me anything and I shouldn’t have blamed you for my own assumptions.’
Toni’s brow shot up at his words, the easy apology. ‘It was a shock,’ she ventured. ‘I’m sorry I was worked up as well. It’s my fault I didn’t realise Gabri could just as easily be a man’s nickname as a woman’s, and there’s nothing wrong with being a florist. It’s interesting.’
‘Interesting?’ He seemed amused by the word.
‘I’m sure it’s partly why I assumed you were a woman,’ she admitted, ‘but now I see…’ Her gaze snagged on his rough hands again, loosely clasped on the table.
‘Don’t worry. My mother still isn’t used to her son’s new career and your assumption makes sense.’
She picked up on the words ‘new career’, bursting with questions she probably should have asked online.
His gaze lifted to hers and swerved away again. ‘I am trying to get used to the idea of you as a woman.’
The statement washed over her with misgiving. She’d always had a lot of male friends. The mountain guides skewed slightly towards men, although she’d met plenty of female instructors and guides, including Kira, one of the only full-time employees at Great Heart.
‘Do you think it really makes a difference?’ she asked warily. ‘I know it was an embarrassing misunderstanding, but should it matter that you’re a man and I’m a woman?’
The waiter brought their drinks and she grasped hers with a restless hand to stop herself analysing the implication of those words.
He cleared his throat. ‘I suppose not. This is not a romantic film.’
She’d chosen that moment to take a sip and the carbonated liquid got caught in her throat. He was around the table in a heartbeat, his hand on her back, between the straps of her dress.
‘I’m okay,’ she croaked between coughs, still trying to catch her breath and also to stop herself wondering when she’d last felt someone’s fingers on her bare back.
Instead of removing his hand, he brushed his thumb once more along her spine in the most divinely casual touch that sent alarm bells ringing all through her. She was not supposed to be enjoying this. If she wanted to salvage something from her week on holiday, she had to find a way back to the easy – completely platonic – friendship they’d built online.
‘You’re sure?’
The coughing was subsiding, so she nodded, shooing him back to his side of the table.
‘That is the problem, no?’ he began carefully. Then he went right ahead and addressed the issue like a damned adult. ‘It shouldn’t make any difference between friends, but friendship is not exactly what we started over coffee this afternoon.’
5
