Phil cleared his throat. ‘I’m calling to ask if you want to come over for dinner on your next day off. Janet says it’s been too long since we saw you. And the girls keep asking after you.’
‘Ah.’ Feeling like a batsman who’d been clean bowled, Luke slumped to the floor. ‘Way to make your brother sound like a prick.’
‘Serves him right for being such a sensitive arsehole.’
Luke winced. ‘Sorry. I got a bit defensive there.’
‘Yes.’ A pause, and when Phil came back on, his tone was more sympathetic. ‘But you have your reasons for it.’
Phil had always managed to keep on the right side of their parents, but Luke knew if push came to shove, his brother would stand firmly in his camp.
‘Am I allowed to ask how things are going?’ Phil asked into the silence.
‘Plans are in place; social media, website, local promo. Sandy’s sure she can create a buzz.’
‘And are you sure?’
‘Of course.’ He crossed his fingers like a ten-year-old being caught in a lie by his mum.
‘Great. And how about the girl opposite? Are plans in place there, too?’
Luke glanced at the signs he’d put up. And felt like crossing his damn fingers again, only this time for luck. ‘Ask me again this time tomorrow.’
Chapter Eleven
Mia glanced at the clock on her computer. 10.45 a.m.
She had time to change her mind.
Or did she?
She’d noticed his message in the window when she’d sat at her desk, bleary eyed, at nine this morning. It had done more to kick start her system than coffee ever could. The trouble was, all that adrenalin, instead of being used to enhance her productivity, had been spent working out what to reply. After thirty minutes of furious thinking, she’d come up with:
Okay.
To say no would have been rude, she’d reasoned, and … and … bugger, no point in lying to herself. She wanted to meet him.
At ten o’clock she’d watched him tape a in his window. And yes, she had glanced at him as he’d worked out, but only because that was where her eyes fell when she stopped to think. Working on a mind-numbing website for a courier company, a girl needed all the inspiration she could get.
Then the show had ended, presumably so he could go and shower for their meeting.
She looked back up at the time. 10.58 a.m.
Her heart bounced, and she pushed her chair back. Okay, no big deal. She was going to meet a friend for coffee.
Her mum would be pleased, her sister frigging delighted when she told her who the friend was.
Grabbing her purse – she didn’t need him to buy her coffee – she dashed out of the flat.
Halfway down the stairs, she realised she’d not checked if she had toothpaste/marmalade round her mouth. Or thought to change.
But this was her, and she couldn’t see the point of pretending to be any different. She’d tried once, as a teenager at school, but it had been too exhausting. Instead she’d learnt to smile as they’d called her names – geek, nerd, weirdo – and to use humour to deflect the sting.
She’d also, eventually, learnt to be happy with who she was.
Pushing on the door to the café, she noticed Luke was already there, his back to her as he stood chatting to Naomi at the counter. Somehow he looked even bigger today, his wide shoulders encased in a white T-shirt, long legs in jeans that fitted nice and snug over a very neat bum.
As a view, it was enough to send her girl hormones buzzing. And that was before he turned and smiled.
Her stomach dipped, and heat flashed through her. It was hardly surprising this guy had women flocking. And if a good time was all a girl wanted, she’d like to bet he’d deliver.
‘Morning, Mia.’ His eyes, all warm and green and twinkling, skimmed over her face before settling on hers.
‘Morning.’ She was glad her voice sounded steady, though the saliva had vanished from her mouth, which was frigging ridiculous. He was crazy good-looking, and charming, and he’d sent her sweet messages from his window, but she didn’t need a flirt in her life.
‘What can I get you?’ He nodded towards the seating area. ‘I’ll bring it over if you want to find a seat.’
‘Is this force of habit, feeling the need to serve me even when you’re not at work? Because I can order and buy my own drink.’
His smile slipped, just a little. ‘I invited you, remember?’ And then it was back again, in full force. ‘Next time you can pay.’
She wasn’t going to argue about next time, not in front of Naomi. ‘I’ll take a latte, thanks. And as you’re buying, a pastry too.’
He laughed. ‘Fine, any preference?’
‘You choose.’
‘Are you sure? You didn’t trust my judgement when it came to cocktails.’
‘Ah, but I trust Naomi. She won’t sell anything as awful as your radioactive green sludge.’
Naomi chuckled, but the look she levelled at her was full of questions. Mia had a feeling she was in for a grilling the next time she came to the café.
‘Sludge?’ Luke put a hand to his chest. ‘You wound me. For that, I’m going to pick something boringly healthy.’ He scanned the selection and grinned. ‘I’ve got it. A granola bar. The one without chocolate.’
‘I asked for a pastry. Getting me anything different would be rude.’
He returned her verbal lob with a sly grin. ‘I don’t mind being rude.’
More customers entered the shop and Mia left him to it, finding a spare table in the corner. As she sat down, she realised she was smiling. Luke was everything she needed to steer clear of, but he was also fun. And it turns out when you’re feeling lonely, fun is in really short supply.
Maybe that explained why she was here. Her brain knew she needed to keep Luke at arm’s length, but her soul desperately needed to laugh.
Luke walked over a minute later carrying two mugs in one hand, and a plate laden with pastries in the other.
When she goggled at them, he smiled. ‘I didn’t want to risk you not meeting me again, so I asked Naomi for a few of each.’ He reached behind him into his back pocket and produced a handful of serviettes and a paper bag. ‘You can take those you can’t eat now back with you.’ A flash of those dimples. ‘Think of me as you drop pastry flakes all over your keyboard.’
Her gaze bounced to his. ‘How do you know I eat over my keyboard?’
‘Ah.’ He grabbed at one of the pastries. ‘I could say you mentioned you worked with computers, and I assume like most people, you snack when you get bored. But actually, when I lift weights I can see you at your desk.’ He gave her a wide grin. ‘It pushes me to work out harder.’
Crap. Could he tell she ogled him? ‘You can really see me?’
‘Well, the shadow of you.’ He considered her while he munched on a mouthful of pastry. ‘First thing I noticed was the flash of green hair, that’s when I realised it was you living opposite. But you must have shifted your desk back because after that I couldn’t see you as clearly, only your outline.’
Relief surged through her. ‘It was getting too hot right next to the radiator.’