Page 34 of A Colourful Country Escape
‘OK, OK. I’ll get out,’ she told the disgruntled insect as she shook herself and climbed out of the greenhouse.
‘Oh!’ Her hand flew to her chest as she tried to still her heart. ‘Ben. You made me jump.’
It was starting to be an occupational hazard in this place.
Chapter 18
‘What were you up to in Tom’s greenhouse? He’s cagey enough about his secret garden.’
It was Ben in a grey tweed suit, looking more like he was going to a wedding than scuffling about in the bushes. Couldn’t a girl get any peace in this place?
‘Nothing, I … You’re wearing wellies?’ God. Why did she always come out with something dumb in his presence? Maybe his awkwardness was rubbing off on her.
‘Top marks for observation, Miss Summers. I live on a country estate. I can’t always wear a formal shoe.’
Of course he had to point that out, as if she didn’t already feel out of her depth here. She’d grown up on a council estate, where the main function for wellies was to splash in poorly tarmacked puddles. She clutched her notebook to her chest.
‘I was just … er … going to make some notes. About you, actually.’
He raised an eyebrow.
‘You know, to build up a picture of you to share with the followers. Nothing tooprivate. Just a bit of fun – to help people get to know the people behind the business. Anyway. I needed somewhere quiet to think.’ She waved a hand. ‘Maybe you can help me.’
‘Hiding among the wildflowers, thinking about me. I’m charmed.’ The corners of his mouth were doing that annoying twitchy thing again. He was trying not to smirk.
‘Not in that way, just … Oh!’ Why was she starting to feel off-balance? She looked down at her feet as they began to be swallowed by a patch of wet mud. She splayed her arms out to stop herself falling.
Ben stepped forward and grabbed her free hand, pulling her from the dirt. His touch was warm and firm, and took her by surprise. She tried to steady herself, although something inside her felt strangely less steady than before.
‘Thank you,’ she muttered, tugging her hand away. Maybe he had more manners than she gave him credit for. But, anyway, she didn’t need his help. ‘What were you doing following me?’
He cleared his throat. Did he look a little embarrassed?
‘I don’t believe I’m barred from any part of the gardens. I heard you clattering along the hallway and wondered where you were off to. I needed to stretch my legs, in any case.’
He waved down at his, as though she might not know what legs were. At least she wasn’t the only one making an idiot of herself.
‘There’s a bench over there. Maybe you want to sit, and we canthink about metogether. I steal out here sometimes too, when the beige gets too much.’
He strode off and, suddenly intrigued to know more about this boss who occasionally showed a hint of raspberry ripple through his vanilla, Lexie found herself following him.
When they arrived at the promised bench, Lexie realised it was one of those kissing seats which curved around in an ‘S’ shape, and was totally unsuitable for most things other than kissing. How were they meant to have a proper conversation if they were facing opposite directions? She plonked down and tried to twist herself so she was looking at the side of Ben’s head. Was that even stranger?
He turned to face her too, and then realising their faces were disconcertingly close they apologised and turned back to face their contrasting views. Ben was facing the big house, which was some way in the distance beyond the overgrown garden, and Lexie was looking towards the boundary wall edging the dirt track beyond.
‘So what do you need to know?’ he asked.
‘Share some of your personality with me.’
‘You’ll be disappointed; there’s not much to tell. If I had one, perhaps I’d know how to chat on social media myself. And indeed, find my own wife.’
‘Oh, I … ’
‘Just ask your questions.’
Ben had a way of making even a bit of sociable fun feel like business. His tone of voice was fit for chairing a meeting. Lexie flipped open her notebook and straightened it out on her lap. Well, two could play at that. She was just here to take the minutes.
‘Hobbies?’
