“Ok, I’ll guess. You probably have quite a list for dates to pass before they’re even considered. So, must be above a certain height. Must have good teeth. Must have a decent job or working towards a career. Must have similar interests. Am I about right?”
“Yes…” I admit. “Apart from the height thing. So far, I’m yet to meet a man shorter than me, but if I did, it wouldn’t necessarily put me off. As long as they were confident in themselves. I’m not about propping up egos. And I’m not wasting my time on someone who still lives with their mum. Or if they do, doesn’t even have a plan to leave.”
James snorts. “Ok, once you get on the date… Must want… marriage?”
“No, actually.” I shrug as I step across a small ditch in the ground. “Must be willing to commit long term. I want someone to share a mortgage with.”
“How romantic.”
“And I want a dog. Something like a cavapoo or corgi.”
“I can see that.”
“They don’t even have to want kids. I don’t even know ifIwant them yet,” I add. “And I do find some guys are really put off by my career. So they need to have their own professional ambitions and be supportive of mine.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
I stop, turning to face James. He steps right up close, his face barely inches from mine. I’m suddenly thankful we’ve had toothpaste in our bags and been using it twice a day. His minty breath blows down across my nose. I find myself locked in his blue eyes, watching how his dark hair hangs down across his eyebrows.
I clear my throat. What was I going to say? I stare into his eyes and then blurt, “Why do you say that?” My voice doesn’t sound like mine. My limbs are buzzing, my fingers tingling. Either that water from the lake is finally getting into my blood and I’m about to die, or I’m having a weird meltdown.
“Some guys are intimidated by successful women.”
“Oh. Right. I know,” I say. And then for some mad unknown reason, I ask, “Are you?”
James takes a moment to answer. “No. Althoughyou’vebeen known to intimidate me from time to time. You’re a lot of things I always wanted to be.”
I’m very cautious of my breathing right now. It doesn’t sound normal. It sounds choppy. Desperate. My eyes drop to James’ lips. I’ve never noticed how pink they are. Slightly parted. Kissable. I bite my bottom lip, imploring my sex-starved brain to silence itself. “Like what?”
“Educated. Positive. Funny.”
“You find me funny?” I interrupt.
“And annoying,” he adds to keep me grounded.
I laugh in a breathy way, forcing myself to look away, focussing on a patch of pink wildflowers swaying softly in the breeze. James’ eyes are on the side of my face, I feel trapped by them. I can’t look back now, or I might actually lose my mind. I’m not in control of my own body. This is really quite unacceptable.
Must remember that not only is this a work trip – granted, it’s a terrible, dangerous work trip – but James is my colleague – a colleague, until about five hours ago, I absolutely could not stand. I can’twanthim. And I certainly cannot allow these thoughts to get the better of me. He should be firmly set aside in the no-go zone in my head. I hate him, don’t I? He ruins everything. He adds to my stress and anxiety all the time in our normal daily lives. So, why does telling myself this make me flush even more?
“I kind of like how you’re not always thinking about money,” he says. “I wish I could do that. You know, find pleasure in other things. For me, having money has always been this insatiable need. It can be really toxic. It makes you do things you’re not proud of.”
I can’t help myself. I look back to read his face. Connecting with his eyes once again sends a shot of sensation through to the spot between my legs. Instinctively, I cross them. James catches the movement, dropping his eyes.
This is so, so inappropriate.
And then he steps even closer. I panic, putting my hands between us. They land on his torso and because he’s simply much bigger than me, it ends up producing the opposite effect of pushing him away and has me stumbling backwards. He grabs my arms to steady me.
Oh hell.
Now he’s holding onto me. Too close. We must look like a couple on a romantic hike. At least nobody is going to see it.
Fliss, wake up!
I shake myself out of whatever the hell is happening here, twisting out of his grip and striding off again, way too quickly. I seal my lips shut, willing this persistent buzz in my body away. James jogs gently to catch me up, as if he waited a few moments to gather himself, a slight hitch in his breathing.
*
The first signs of civilisation we encounter are the occasional grey stone walls. They’re scattered about at random, as if they used to have a purpose holding something in or out, but now they’ve crumbled and only the best parts of the walls remain. We cross a stream, James helping me through again, this time far more successfully than the river. We then follow it until we finally reach a bridge over a brook.
