Page 41 of A Colourful Country Escape
He looked at her quizzically as she tried not to bubble over with excitement.
‘Tatty brown coffee tables. Go on, enlighten me.’
‘But they don’t have to be brown, or beige, or any boring table colour. With a splash of paint they could be any shade you want.’
He looked at her in her yellow sunflower-print jumpsuit, her electric-blue thrift-shop cardi matching happily with the blue tips of her hair.
‘Indeed.’
She flapped her arms in frustration. ‘For someone in the paint business, you don’t have much vision. You’ve probably never even heard of chalk-style paints. They’re far too cutesy for you.’
They moved to avoid the vacating neighbours, who were struggling through their door with brimming boxes.
‘And I’m sure some new, exciting business will set up its home here soon. Isn’t it always great when someone new moves in?’ she said, treating him to a wink.
‘Thrilling.’
Lexie was still never sure when he was being sarcastic good or sarcastic bad, so she gave up the debate and strode on towards the river, with Ben shrugging and pacing along behind.
They soon arrived at Ben’s chosen restaurant and picked a table outside by the water. Lexie felt a little flutter of something as Ben pulled out her chair and checked she was comfortable. Then she tutted at herself, realising he was probably just trying to appease her after their set-to in the street.
Lexie settled back into her chair and took in the view. The water trickled by peacefully, making its way towards the old stone bridge. The trees were shimmying their late-spring leaves. There was every danger she might see a duck. This place was too quaint for words; maybe Ben wouldn’t be so terrible at dating after all.
Despite all the loveliness, Lexie couldn’t help feeling a hint of rebellion in the air. It was like one of those hazy school days when the teachers went wild and took lessons outside on the grass. If she were wearing a uniform she’d be making her tie into a headband and tying a jaunty knot in her shirt.
‘So was Grace the top contender in the potential-wife parade?’ Lexie enjoyed making him squirm on this topic, even if she wasn’t quite sure why. Was she hoping for a confession? If so, what did she want him to confess?
She shook off the thought. No. She wasn’t playing a grown-up version of ‘my friend fancies you’. And did Grace even like Ben?
‘Don’t be ridiculous. There were surely other reasonable options. What about the lady with the bugs?’
‘Plain Susan?’ Was he being serious? ‘I mean, not to do the woman a disservice, but she did actually describe herself as a little bit boring when she asked Mrs Moon to scrape the jam off her sponge.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with being dull.’ Ben shifted in his seat and waved for a non-existent waiter, clearly trying to avoid eye contact.
Lexie gave an exaggerated gasp and leaned across the table towards him. ‘You still think you’re boring, don’t you?’ she stage-whispered. ‘You think you’ll have nothing to talk about other than spreadsheets, so if you end up with Bug Lady at least you’ll be marginally more interesting than her dead centipedes.’
Lexie wished she was sitting a bit nearer, so she could poke him in the ribs and giggle. ‘Is it because I call you beige?’
He flashed her a glare. ‘You know I didn’t choose the paintwork at the house.’ At last he caught the attention of a staff member and signalled for the wine menu.
Lexie had to concede that was probably true. Mrs Carrington-Noble’s presence was painted into the very stonework. ‘So what colour would you have chosen?’
Ben let out a frustrated huff as though dealing with a disruptive toddler. ‘I don’t know – you’re the creative one. How about something from your proposed new range. Something exotic.’
Lexie laughed. ‘Coming from the guy who thinks having pineapple on his pizza is a step too close to crazy, I’m not sure you could handle exotic.’ She folded her arms across her chest, leaned back in her chair and eyeballed him, a twinkle of defiance in her eyes.
‘So put your proposed palette together and we’ll see.’
Ooh, was that a double dare? She was surprised he’d even remembered her mention of a new range of colours for Carrington Paints. He must have sensed before that she didn’t trust herself to actually pull it off. Well, maybe she’d triple dare him back.
‘If you’re so wild you should try a date with Grace. Perhaps she’s just the streak of colour you need.’
He winced.
‘What?’
‘She’s just too … ’ He seemed to be picking his words carefully, so as not to cause offence – which was unusual in itself.
