Page 55 of A Colourful Country Escape
‘Bugger off!’
‘Kiwi fruit.’ He pointed at her. ‘I’ve seen you peeling the hairy little things for your breakfast. I tried one the other day. Not bad.’
She sniffed. ‘Probably.’
‘Favourite colour?’ He leaned slowly towards her face. What was he doing? Going in for a kiss? And why were her lips involuntarily willing him in?
‘Purple.’ He was focusing on her eyelashes and pointing at the tiny jewel in her nose.
She unpuckered her lips, embarrassed. Bloody traitors. They were as bad as her boob-cupping hands.
‘Purple,’ she conceded. ‘You know too much. Or maybe it’s because you’re choosing the questions, you big old cheat. Anyway, perhaps none of that really matters.’
‘What, you can’t match two people by whether they both prefer kiwi fruit? Who would have thought it. So what is your theory?’ he asked. ‘If Mother can’t just find me a woman who likes beige, and be done with it? What does draw two people together to make a complementing match?’
She shrugged, staring down at her scuffed, purple pixie boots that looked completely out of place next to Ben’s polished brogues, but which she wouldn’t have swapped for the world.
‘Maybe a clash could also work?’ She looked up at him questioningly.
‘It could certainly be interesting.’ He nodded. ‘I mean, if both of you went crazy for kiwi fruit, who would eat all the Granny Smiths? Your fruit bowl would be in disarray.’
‘Exactly! And you don’t want someone who would eat all the green triangles in your Quality Street. You need someone who prefers that rubbish fudge one.’
‘I quite like the fudge one.’
She looked at him, surprised. She couldn’t even imagine him eating a Quality Street. Maybe he was semi-human after all. ‘Oh, I don’t know. It’s all a bit of a jigsaw.’
‘You may have a point.’ He pushed his serviette alongside hers. ‘Because that’s how jigsaws work. Each has a part that the other piece needs to help them fit together.’
She studied the two squares of paper, which did not stick together because they were too alike. If the air-con worked properly they’d probably blow away.
‘One has a sticky-out bit, and the other … ’ She pulled a face. Oh, this was getting confusing. The other had a sticky-in bit. Maybe jigsaws were only good at sex – which was quite possibly the strangest thought that had ever crossed her mind.
She stood up. ‘I seriously need some air.’ And to stop thinking about jigsaw sex. Ever. Again. ‘Walk?’
‘Absolutely.’
Ben stood up and put some cash on the bar. Lexie rifled in her bag and did the same.
‘Jigsaws should be equal,’ she said, still not sure what she was rabbiting on about.
‘The same, but different.’ He nodded, as though she was talking perfect sense.
‘Things would be a lot clearer if we hadn’t missed out on our fortune cookies.’ It was as good a drunken theory as any.
‘Then I know where we’re going next.’
He took her hand, which was definitely just to steady her, and they made their way through the winking lights of the bar, towards the equally knowing lights of the big city.
Chapter 28
‘Fresh air is … lovely,’ Lexie declared to the cool London night, for want of a better description. Those innocent-looking cocktails had a way of sneaking up on a girl.
She reached her arms up to the stars, letting the breeze tickle around her. It was a welcome sensation after the warmth of that bar, although she was pretty sure most of her heat had been caused by a certain square-jawed boss.
He came towards her, pulling her lightly by the waist and taking hold of one of her arms to link through his. No, hang on, rewind a bit. She’d liked that waist-holding thing. His hands had felt so firm and strong against the soft material of her tube dress.
‘Lexie, you’re in the road.’
