Page 31 of Wish You Knew
15
Scott
She looked absolutely gorgeous sleeping. The light honey colour of her skin, exposed by the shoulder of her jumper slipping down, looked good enough to eat. Her hair draped around like a blonde cloud. And she made the cutest little muttering noises.
It would be a shame to wake her.
I hovered by the sofa, torn between wanting to shake her awake and leaving her be.
The TV remote had fallen on the floor, and I bent down to pick it up, only to drop it again. It clattered against the leg of the coffee table with a bang.
Rosie’s eyelids fluttered open, the amber colour of her irises even more vibrant than usual. “How long have I been asleep?” she yawned.
“We’re onStep Up 3Dif that helps quantify it?” I grinned at her choice of movie.
“Humph, the last thing I remember is Channing Tatum…” Her eyes glassed over.
I’d never seen the film, but I knew who Channing Tatum was. Lucky bastard. I lifted up her feet, sat down on the sofa and lowered them into my lap. “Are you still up for going out?”
Rosie shifted herself into a sitting position, easing her legs back underneath her. “Sure. I guess I don’t have to get too dressed up?”
“Babe, it’s a village pub. You could go as you are. No-one would bat an eyelid.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t, but I have to get changed. I can’t go out in the same clothes I’ve worn during the day.” She nibbled on her thumbnail. “It doesn’t seem right.”
“Go on, live a little. You look great.”
She pulled the sweater up to cover her shoulder. “I probably look a mess after being asleep.”
“Trust me, you could never look a mess.” I reached over and tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, my thumb grazing her jawline as I pulled away.
Her breath hitched, and my hand stilled. It would be oh-so-easy to lean over and kiss her, taste those plump, rose pink lips. I swallowed as the air between us charged.
“I guess I’ll go and get ready,” she said, breaking the moment.
After she’d left the room, I let my head slump back on the edge of the sofa and stared at the ceiling.Shit, why did she turn me into a teenage boy with a crush?
The Kings Arms was quiet on a Tuesday evening. I hadn’t bothered calling ahead and booking a table. The staff there knew my family well, and usually accommodated us even when it was busy. The waitress showed us to a table in an alcove towards the back of the pub, nicely secluded and away from the rest of the customers.
Despite me telling Rosie she didn’t have to make too much effort, she’d changed into a floral-patterned dress, which stopped mid-thigh, and a pair of low-heeled black boots. The mix of vintage and biker vibes really suited her. She’d pulled her thick blonde hair into a messy bun, strands framing her face. My fingers itched to run through it and pull the locks down around her shoulders. I practically had to sit on my hands to stop myself.
“Can I get you two some drinks?” The waitress looked between us, no doubt ready to tell her friends that Scott Lincoln and Rosie Tatton were in her pub.
“I’ll have a beer,” I replied, and glanced over at Rosie who was engrossed in the wine list. “Did you want to get a bottle?”
“Scott Lincoln, are you trying to get me drunk?” Rosie asked in mock horror.
“What do you think, babe?” I waggled my eyebrows at her.
The waitress appeared to be holding her breath as she waited patiently for us to make a decision.
“Can we have the Argentinian Malbec please?” Rosie placed the laminated wine list on the table, and then leaned back in her chair. “You’ll share some with me, won’t you?”
“Of course. I couldn’t let you drink alone.”
“Good choice.” She scribbled down the drinks, then looked up again, pen poised over her pad. “And are you ready to order food?”
“I need a few more minutes,” said Rosie. “If you can get our drinks, I promise to be ready by the time you come back.”
