Page 79 of Ace My Heart

“Ha-ha!” I said sarcastically. His smile faded.

“That’s never going to happen again, Mel. I promise.”

Earnest Joel was too much for me to take. I busied myself looking around for my bag. Joel leaned over and pulled my clean underwear out of it, passing it to me. The thought of him touching my stuff in such a familiar way sent another jolt through me. Nope, I didn’t need to think about Joel touching my underwear.

I dressed hurriedly, shouldering one bag. Joel grabbed the other one and we walked out together. My hair was wet from my shower, sticking to the back of my shirt. I moved my head a couple of times to try and dislodge it, but I wasn’t having any luck.

Joel reached out and slipped his hand under my hair, just at the nape of my neck. He freed it, running his fingers through it a couple of times. I tried to give him a grateful smile, my heart hammering at a million miles an hour, my skin rising into goosebumps where he’d touched me.

It’s Joel! You know, the big brother you never had.Except big brothers didn’t touch their sisters the way he touched me. Big brothers didn’t joke about getting naked in the shower with their sisters.

Fuck.

We packed the stuff into a hire car and I climbed into the back seat. Joel leaned in and gave the driver the hotel address, speaking in infuriatingly perfect French.

“I’ll see you back at the hotel in a couple of hours, okay?” he asked. I nodded, but before I could ask what he was doing, he closed the door and the car pulled away.

He was up to something, I could tell. I just didn’t know what it might be. Ishouldn’twant to know so badly.

It was actually a relief to have some Joel-free time that afternoon. I didn’t realise how much effort it was taking to keep my distance, until he wasn’t there anymore, and I didn’t have to keep up the pretence.

Back at the hotel I did some stretches for my back, ate lunch from room service, and ran a brush through my now dry hair. I was just about to do some channel surfing when the door clicked open and Joel walked in, a large paper bag in his hands and a look of intense satisfaction on his face.

“What’s for dinner?” I asked, stretching out on the sofa. Joel put the bag down on the little bench in the kitchenette.

“It’s a surprise. Now go get dressed.”

I looked down at my yoga pants and t-shirt in confusion. “Iamdressed.”

“Just put on some jeans and shoes, okay?”

I shrugged and stood up, heading for my own room. I dragged on a pair of jeans. I changed my t-shirt for a low-cut long-sleeved top – the nights in Paris at this time of year were quite cool. I chucked on a pair of sneakers and finger-combed my hair.

“Do I look presentable?” I asked as I met Joel back in the living room. His eyes roved over me, pausing for slightly too long on my cleavage. I squirmed under his gaze.

“Maybe take a scarf – it could be cool out tonight,” he suggested, lifting the paper bag off the bench. I retrieved my scarf and Joel held the door open for me.

“Where are we going?” I asked, a little disgruntled. “I don’t like surprises.”

Joel smiled smugly at me. “I thought we could dine alfresco tonight.”

As we climbed into an Uber, I peeked suspiciously at him out of the corner of my eye. He noticed, grinning at me.

“Just go with the flow for once, Mel! Believe it or not, I’m actually not trying to annoy you tonight.”

It was a short trip, and when we got out Joel gripped me gently by the elbow and steered me.

The night was cool and a little crisp, but the air was still and the sky was clear. We couldn’t see the stars; a small country could have been powered for a year with the amount of electricity Paris used to light all its fancy landmarks.

Joel led me onto a wide bridge stretching over the River Seine. Lamp posts dotted little patches of brighter light along either side, and there were benches at intervals all the way down the centre. At the far end was an absolutely stunning building with a large dome, directly at the end of the bridge.

“Le Pont Des Arts,” he explained, gesturing to the bridge. He reached into the paper bag and pulled out a picnic blanket. I gaped in stunned silence as he led me further onto the bridge.

There were people everywhere, sitting on the bench seats or leaning against the railing taking in the view. Some people were sitting on the ground, eating or chatting and laughing with each other.

Joel spread the blanket out to one side of the bridge and sat down, his back against the railing. He patted the space beside him, and reluctantly I sat. He started unpacking things from the bag: olives and cheeses and cold meats and bread and fruit. I gawked at him in astonishment.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

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