Page 4 of Three's a Crowd
As one, they all got up from the table and hurried over to help clear up the mess, laughing good naturedly at her embarrassment. Sam patted her on the back in a consoling manner before heading into the kitchen to grab a bin liner to put the destroyed dessert into.
Daisy wasmortified.
She couldn’t bring herself to even glance at Zach and see the look of exasperated amusement she felt sure must be written all over his face.
‘Still as clumsy as ever, Daisy,’ Adam teased, carefully collecting big chunks of glass with his hands.
Daisy smiled weakly at him.
Frustratingly, in the last year or so, she’d begun to feel much more comfortable in herself – finally starting to grow into the person she wanted to be as an adult. Until Zach had turned up and wrecked her peace of mind. Now, under his scrutinising gaze, she felt like the gangly, chaotic schoolgirl she used to be again.
Her mum came over to give her a sympathetic hug. ‘Don’t worry, I don’t think any of us had room for pudding,’ she murmured. ‘Anyway, it looks like the rain is on its way now, so it’s probably time to go inside.’
The day had started out sunny and warm, but now Daisy glanced up, she saw dark clouds had started to build in the sky. As the sun was well on its way to setting, the air had become cool and damp and she imagined she could taste the oncoming rain.
‘Yeah, let’s clear this table up and go inside,’ suggested Andy, getting to his feet from where he’d been kneeling picking up grapes and bits of apple. They all murmured in agreement.
‘Hey, look, why don’t you kids get off to the pub so we adults can get drunk here in peace. We’ll clear the rest of the table,’ Sally said, waving the four of them away.
‘Okay. We’ll take everything inside, then we’ll get out of your hair and leave you to your debauchery,’ Zach said with a wink, grabbing a water carafe and a butter dish from the table and heading indoors.
They all voiced their amused agreement at that suggestion.
Daisy grabbed a pile of plates and – carefully – carried them in through the kitchen door. Just as she stepped inside, a gust of wind blew her hair across her face, obscuring her vision and she bumped into a large, hard body coming back out of the doorway.
She gave a little yelp, desperately gripping the pile of plates so as not to smash those as well.
Blowing her hair out of her eyes, she looked up into Zach’s – familiar, yet somehow not – face and sucked in a ragged breath. His intense gaze bored into hers and, strangely, his expression seemed to mirror the look of bewilderment she knew had to be written across her own face.
‘Watch where you’re going there, Dizzy,’ Zach said, snapping them out of the strange moment. He held up both hands, taking a dramatic step backwards as if it was entirely possible for her to knock his six-foot, broad-chested body out of the way with her five-foot-nothing, dinky one.
The sound of her childhood pet name brought her up short. No-one had called her that in a long time. She’d made it perfectly clear that she hated it, so everyone had respected her wishes and stopped using it.
Except Zach.
Her hackles rose.
He hadn’t changed at all.
‘Nobody calls me that any more. And why don’tyouwatch it, idiot,’ she said, shooting him a disgruntled frown.
He flashed her a wolfish grin back.
‘Still the same old Diz,’ he murmured.
Before she could reply, he raised his hand and tucked a rogue bit of hair, that was still hanging over her face, behind her ear, bringing with him hisohso familiar scent that made her think of all their childhood holidays together. It sent a shock of such intense nostalgia through her body, her breath got trapped in her chest, making her feel slightly dizzy.
Huh. Maybe he was on the money with her nickname suiting her after all.
‘Oh, sod off!’ she muttered, frustrated by her response to him. How old was she? It was like she’d regressed to being thirteen again.
She pushed past him, not caring that she stepped on his foot, and headed into the kitchen where she dumped the pile of plates onto the work surface with a loud clatter.
The sound of deep, male laughter drifted in through the open door and Daisy dropped her head into her hands in frustration.
How did she always manage to make a fool of herself in front of him?
How?
