Page 54 of The Happy Hour
‘I need your number,’ he said, pulling back an inch. ‘I can’t believe I don’t have it already.’
Jess laughed. ‘I was thinking the same.’
They swapped phones, typed in their numbers, then handed them back with the new, precious information safely stored.
‘So many boundaries broken,’ Ash said.
‘Somany,’ Jess agreed. ‘Maybe one day you’ll be able to stay with me past one o’clock.’ She smiled up at him, and while Ash returned it, there was something in his grey eyes, a haunted look, that echoed what he’d told her a moment ago.It’s not a whole lot of fun.
‘Maybe,’ he murmured. ‘But this week, I have to go.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, if—’
‘Don’t apologise.’ He brushed her hair behind her ear. ‘Please. Just leave me with another kiss?’
‘Not atotalhardship,’ Jess said, trying to take them back to light and flirtatious, to dissolve the black cloud that had fallen over them.
Their goodbye kiss started out gentle, then Ash slid his fingers into her hair, and she twisted hers in his T-shirt,
and it was only a loud ‘harrumph’ that broke them apart, both of them flushing under the glare of the sturdy older woman with a shopping trolley, who had stopped in front of them as if they were blocking the entire alleyway.
‘Sorry,’ Jess murmured.
‘Please.’ Ash pressed himself against the wall and gestured for her to go past them.
The woman kept her eyes trained on them as she walked slowly past, the wheels of her tartan trolley squeaking painfully.
Once she had gone, they dissolved into laughter, Ash pressing his head into Jess’s neck, his warm breath dampening the collar of her dress.
‘We should make it our aim to appal old ladies as often as possible,’ she said.
‘For as long as possible,’ Ash added.
‘Agreed.’ His words made her pulse dance unsteadily in her throat.
‘Same time next week?’
‘Nope,’ she replied gleefully. ‘An hour earlier than usual.’
‘Of course!’ He laughed. ‘Your kiss wiped my mind clear.’
‘Exactly my plan.’ Jess blew him a final one to send him on his way.
At the end of the alley, he turned and held up her print, which he’d carefully wrapped up again. ‘Thank you for this.’
‘You’re welcome,’ she called, and watched him turn right and disappear from view.
Jess walked back into the market high on desire, her mind still scrambled by their unexpectedly earth-shattering kiss. Most of the other traders had gone back to their stalls, and Lola and Spade had their instruments out and their heads close together, debating something with Enzo, while Deano set up his large, professional-looking camera on a sturdy tripod.
Other people were sitting at the picnic tables outside the pub, full pints in front of them, and Jess’s eyes were drawn to the blackboard next to the door, the scratchy chalk writing in pink and blue, the penmanship slightly slanted.
Written at the top, in capitals, were the words ‘HAPPY HOUR!’ Beneath it, instead of the deals for two-for-one cocktails and a pint and a chaser for £7, she wanted to writeJess Peacock and Ash Faulkner,because that was exactly what she had with him. A time of the week she looked forward to, where she could feel lighter and less inhibited, drunk on laughter and lust, her whole body flushed with enjoyment. Being with Ash on Sunday mornings – that was her happy hour. She wouldn’t replace it for all the Espresso Martinis in the world.
Chapter Nineteen
Mack isn’t speaking to me because I’m abandoning him on Sunday. He says I’ve betrayed him.
Uh oh. Can you do another time? One evening, like
