Layla wasn’t at all sure and she definitely didn’t want to go, but she was under strict instructions from Didi to leave him wanting more. Which was pretty rich, considering Didi had slept with Aaron the first night she’d met him. But Layla was the one who’d asked Didi’s advice on this occasion, and she had promised to do as she was told.
Besides, everything seemed to be going fantastically well so far and it felt kind of empowering to be the one in charge for once, being all assertive and saying no.
‘I do have to go.’ One-upmanship was such a buzz. She leaned forward and planted a brief kiss tantalisingly close to Harry’s mouth. ‘I need to be in my office by seven tomorrow morning, and my taxi’s going to be here any minute. But it’s been great.’
‘When am I going to see you again?’
Yee-ha! ‘I don’t know, you haven’t asked me yet.’
‘I’m asking you now. Tomorrow night?’
The urge to yell yes yes YES was almost irresistible. This was all working like magic, going exactly according to plan. But she had to keep the upper hand. As instructed, she said casually, ‘Sorry, can’t do tomorrow.’
Even though it nearly killed her.
‘Right.’ He looked crestfallen. ‘OK, no worries. Well, tonight was fun.’
But he’d pulled back a fraction and the tone of his voice had flattened. Panicking, Layla blurted out, ‘I can do Sunday!’
‘Sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure!’
‘OK. Sunday it is.’ And now he slid his arm around her waist and drew her towards him. This time it wasn’t a peck, it was a proper kiss, a meaningful one, long and slow and bursting with promise.
Layla swooned; it had been quite a while since she’d found herself on the receiving end of something like that.
By the time they finally broke apart, she was breathless and trembling.
‘Sure you don’t want to change your mind?’ Harry murmured. ‘My place is just up the road.’
She knew where it was. He’d already pointed out the bijou first-floor flat above one of the touristy shops catering for visitors who yearned to buy crockery, paintings, light shades and tea towels . . . anything at all, basically, so long as it featured scenes from the Cotswolds.
‘I can’t . . .’
Smiling, he lightly stroked an index finger along the line of her collarbone. ‘You could if you really wanted to.’
Chapter 9
Layla’s phone buzzed. ‘That’s my taxi,’ she said, and twisted round, expecting to see the car making its way along the high street. Moments later, she realised it was one of the ones parked opposite. ‘Oh, it’s already here.’ Well that was a tiny bit embarrassing. ‘Better not keep him waiting. I’ll see you on Sunday.’
Harry grinned at her. ‘Can’t wait.’
She made her way over the bridge and across the dry grass. Had Will been sitting there all this time watching her get kissed to within an inch of her life? But when she reached the taxi, Layla saw that he was engrossed in typing something into the iPad on his lap.
As she opened the passenger door, he switched off the iPad and slid it into the glove compartment.
‘What were you writing?’
He fired up the engine. ‘Nothing.’
She hoped it wasn’t a Facebook post to accompany a luridly incriminating photo, broadcasting to all and sundry: Look at Layla Gallagher with her blind date tonight, snogging like a teenager outside the pub. Talk about desperate!
She fastened her seat belt. ‘Been waiting long?’
‘I was only two minutes away when you texted me.’
‘You should have buzzed me when you got here.’
Will said mildly, ‘You seemed busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.’
As they pulled away, she turned to wave goodbye to Harry, but he’d already disappeared. Still euphoric after such a ragingly successful evening and unable to resist a quick boast, Layla said, ‘Well thanks for asking. We had a brilliant time.’
Will expertly swerved to avoid a fox that had darted into the road. ‘So I gathered.’
The thing about Will was that he had the kind of sense of humour that was so dry it was sometimes hard to detect. Rather than retaliate, Layla took out her phone and pretended to be engrossed in incredibly important business of an accountanty nature instead. When they arrived back in Elliscombe, she glanced up and said, ‘Here’s fine,’ as he was about to drive past the Wickham Hotel.
‘I’m glad you had a good time,’ Will said as she climbed out of the car. Presumably his way of apologising for being dry before.
She hoisted her silver bag over her shoulder and gave him a fleeting half-smile to let him know he’d overstepped the mark. ‘Me too.’
The night air was warm, and a buzz of conversation and laughter drifted across from the back of the hotel; plenty of guests were still gathered outside in the garden. When she reached it, Layla paused to admire the scene. The trees were strung with solar fairy lights, there were silvery uplighters tucked away in the shrubberies, and tiny candles flickered in glass jars on every table. The mingled scents of honeysuckle, roses and nicotiana filled the air. The assembled crowd was drinking, socialising and chattering away, and she spotted Didi in a violet shift dress and emerald heels talking to a party of hotel guests.
‘Layla,’ said a male voice behind her, and she swung round, recognising him at once.
‘Shay!’ Goodness, the beautiful boy of thirteen years ago had grown into a stunningly attractive man. Along with all the other girls at the time – and probably a few boys – she’d had one of those low-level crushes you never even admitted to because you just knew there was no chance of anything happening with the person involved. Shay had been as out of reach and unattainable as a rock star. The fact that he’d had a criminal father and a highly unconventional upbringing hadn’t put anyone off him at all – if anything, those factors had only added to the attraction.
Then Venice had happened. Shay and Didi had struck showers of sparks off each other and that had been it, a fait accompli. At the time it had been like being shown an extraordinary chemical reaction in the school science lab. It had almost felt like a privilege, Layla remembered, to be able to witness the magical connection between them. And their relationship had continued for the next six months, invincible and unbreakable, right up until the end had come, suddenly and explosively, and Shay had disappeared.
Now he was back, more wildly unattainable than ever, and having a little crush on him would be even more of a pointless exercise than before.
Oh, but it was so lovely to see him again. Plus, she couldn’t wait to witness his interactions with Didi. How must she be feeling now?
Let alone Aaron . . .
‘You look amazing.’ Layla gave him a huge hug.
‘So do you. And you’re an accountant, Didi tells me. That’s incredible.’
‘I’m an excellent accountant. So if you ever need someone to take care of your millions . . .’
Shay laughed. ‘I’ll remember that.’
‘No, but seriously, I owe you one. Didi told me about you and Fait. I can’t believe it was yours.’ Unable to resist sharing, she gabbled, ‘I’ve just been on a date tonight with someone I met on there!’