Page 77 of You, As You Are

“You don’t need to hang around with me if you have plans,” she said, trying to sound gracious, “I don’t want you to get this cold too.” Iain hadn’t cometooclose to her, but he hadn’t quarantined himself across her flat, either.

“There’s a Six Nations game on tonight,” he answered to her get-out offer, lifting another round of rarebit to his mouth, “that’s my only plan.”

A rugby match. Maisie didn’t know what to say to that. She’d never been obsessed with a sport enough to spend an evening watching it on telly like it was religion. “Well … you can watch it here if you’d like. I was only going to try packaging orders, if I could move from the sofa, that is.”

Iain’s attention sliced to her and then to all her supplies spread across the tables and organised in their drawers. “How do you package them?”

“In little boxes with some shredded tissue and a thank you note,” she said, then noticed the increasing look of concentration on his features. “What’s that look on your face for?”

“How do you know what’s ordered?” Iain deposited his empty plate on the coffee table and brushed crumbs off his hands.

“The website gives a list. The label printer does the labels, and I just have to get the order right. It’s simple once you’ve been doing it for a while. Seriously, what’s that look for?”

Iain got to his feet and strode over to her desk, scanning the contents and flicking through her open box of pre-packaged jewellery sets. “Tell me how to do all this.”

Maisie frowned as his fingertip tapped a keyboard button and woke up her computer. “Huh? Why?”

“So you can rest.”

So she could …?Maisie could only stare at him, her mouth which she had to breathe through anyway hanging open. Packaging wasn’t difficult work, but it required concentration, and Iain had never done it before. He’d done enough for her tonight – he didn’t need to do her job for her, too.

Her heart ached all of a sudden.

This wasn’t a part of their deal.

Iain faced her, setting his hands on his hips. “As long as you don’t mind watching the rugby, I’ll do your packaging.”

So after a little instruction, she watched him, in disbelief of how his giant, rough fingers handled all of her delicate jewelleries and recyclable film pockets so carefully. He was a little slow but better than she was capable of being at that moment.

And she wondered what kind of woman would choose to let him go.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MAISIE

Miles

Nain says you have a boyfriend.

Maisie

Nope.

Morgan

His name is Iain.

Maisie

Don’t know any Iains, sorry xxxx

Maks

Nain says you’re in Manchester with him.

Morgan

Is he hot?

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