‘You’ve gone all quiet on me, gumdrop. He’s not flashing you, is he?’
It was all too much, the bizarre conversation, the glimpse of, albeit innocent, flesh. Mia started to giggle. ‘Relax, he’s putting up a sign.’ On larger paper, she noted with a smile to herself.
1st non-date Sat
* * *
CU 10 a.m. @ bar?
And there was another drawing, what looked to be a donut and a snowflake.
‘Come on, don’t leave your poor mum hanging. What does it say?’
‘I don’t know. Looks like we’re going out on Saturday to … eat a frozen donut? Or maybe eat a donut in the cold?’
‘Eat a donut?’ her mum scoffed. ‘See, I told you this one-page nonsense wasn’t going to work. Either that or you were right about him being a nutcase.’
On an impulse, Mia typed donut ice Manchester into her computer. And started to laugh. ‘There’s a place called the Chill Factore opposite the Trafford Centre, Mum. It’s an indoor snow park where you can go down a slope in rubber donut rings. I guess we’re going there.’
‘Oh.’ Mia smiled to herself as she imagined the look on her mum’s face. ‘Well make sure you wear a helmet. And you’ll need a big warm coat, and gloves and—’
‘I’m thirty, Mum. I don’t need to be told to put my coat on before I go out.’
There was a pause on the other end, and when her mum spoke again, her tone was softer. ‘You sound happier, gumdrop.’
‘I am.’
‘Is that because of this Luke?’
Mia stared out of the window, watching as Luke began his routine. ‘I’ve been here over two months now. I’m starting to get know people.’ The girls at the bar, Stan, Naomi … and yes, Luke. She was already looking forward to Saturday.
More than any of that though, she was getting used to being by herself. No family round the corner to pop in to. No old friends to hang out with. No boyfriend to rely on. At first the idea of it had seemed enormous, but now it felt more manageable. In time, she might even come to enjoy her independence.
After she ended the call with her mum, Mia scrawled out her reply – yes, she’d also ordered some sheets of paper – and stuck it in the window.
It’s a non-date
As she sat back in her chair, she thought back to the conversation she’d had with Luke yesterday, and the way she’d flown off the handle at his mention of the website. It had been a sore point, because Danny the Dick had asked her to make one for his fledgling photography business. Before dumping her a week after she’d finished it.
It was unfair to assume Luke was anything like Danny though, so at the risk of being a shmuck again, she was going to make the bar a website. And she’d do it for free. Not because she was attracted to Luke – God, definitely not that. Not even because he was going to show her Manchester. No, she’d do it because when he’d admitted to feeling lost beyond the basics of running a bar, she’d felt an answering tug deep in her chest. For all the confident display, this was a man who clearly felt out of his depth. It was a feeling she knew, one she’d experienced the moment she’d moved up here. Yet Luke, with his friendly overtures, had helped her feel more settled. It was only fair she help him, in turn.
Involuntarily, her gaze zeroed in on his window. Watching him work out felt wrong, now they’d agreed to be friends.
Deliberately she forced her gaze away and onto her computer.
Luke had dithered about their first date … shit, non-date. He had to remember that.
A meal out had seemed safe, but lame. In his experience, women liked the process of getting dressed up to eat, often more than the actual eating. As Mia hadn’t got dressed up to go to the bar, he wasn’t sure she’d be a huge fan of the trendy Manchester restaurant scene. Plus his first night off wasn’t till Tuesday. Too long to wait.
Saturday he didn’t need to be in work till three, giving him a morning and lunch. He’d considered, and discarded, a walk (lame again) and a trip to a museum (if he used ‘lame’ again, had he officially regressed to being a teenager?).
The tour of Old Trafford had been a possibility, but she’d seemed more impressed by City and there was no way he could force himself to sit through a tour of the Etihad.
He’d rather have his eyelids tattooed.
That was when he’d messaged Grace for ideas.
Take her on a donut. If she’s as cool as you say, she’ll totes be up for it. G x
As he waited for Mia by the bar on Saturday morning, he hoped to God Grace was right. All he could think was what woman in her right mind would want to spend a summer morning in a giant fridge, careering down an ice slope in a rubber ring?
And suddenly there she was, and his heart jumped, just a little, at the sight of her; hair tied back in a ponytail, flashes of green amongst the blonde, skinny jeans, bright yellow T-shirt.
All those curves, in a deliciously short package.
‘Hi.’ She lifted the plastic bag she was carrying. ‘Before we go, are we really eating frozen donuts, or are we going to the Chill Factore? Because I don’t need my waterproof trousers and coat if it’s the first. Unless it’s a very big donut.’
He laughed and, unable to resist, bent to kiss her on the cheek. A light touch, a friendly gesture because that’s what they were. Friends. Had her cheeks pinked? He wasn’t sure. ‘What would you rather do?’
She gave him a quizzical look. ‘You can really take me to a frozen-donut shop?’
‘For you, anything.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘And now you’re working out where you can buy donuts and how much room you’ve got in your freezer.’
God, she cracked him up. ‘Such little faith.’ Taking her bag, he nodded towards the car park. ‘Luckily I’ve got something more exciting planned. Come on, or we’ll miss our slot.’
‘Exciting by whose definition? I might love frozen donuts.’
He screwed up his face. ‘That sounds really hard on the teeth.’
‘No harder than if I fall off this rubber ring you’re planning on sending me hurtling down a slope on.’
He stilled for a moment, scrutinising her. ‘We don’t have to go, not if you’re not up for it.’
‘What, and miss the chance of whooping your arse?’
‘Oh no.’ He picked up pace again, leading them towards his car. ‘Heavier people go down faster.’ He glanced sideways at her. ‘You’re a tiny thing compared to me.’
‘I may be lighter, but I’m also more aerodynamic.’ She waved a hand towards his shoulders. ‘Those big things aren’t going to help you.’
Why on earth had he worried?, he thought as they reached his car. This woman was exactly who he’d first thought she was: funny, brave. Her own person. She wasn’t going to be intimidated by a bit of ice.
‘Nice wheels.’
He bent to open the car door for her. ‘Not going to tell me it matches my stereotype? You know, the playboy barman, or whatever it is you’ve got me down as?’
She slid neatly into the passenger seat, her five-foot-and-a-bit frame fitting in far more easily than his six-foot-two one did. ‘I’m a computer geek. You’re not going to get me stereotyping anyone. I hate it.’
A tiny part of the jigsaw that made up Mia Abbott slotted into place. ‘I bet you do.’ He also bet that’s why she rebelled with her green hair and her non-conformist attitude.
‘She’s a TVR, yes?’ she asked as he squeezed into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine, smiling when he heard the rumble.
‘Correct on both accounts.’
‘Both?’
‘The fact she’s a she, and a TVR. A twenty-year old Chimaera, to be exact.’
Mia laughed, brushing a hand along the walnut dashboard. ‘She had to be a girl, she’s so pretty.’
‘I hope you’re still saying that when she breaks down on the way back.’
‘But you can fix her, yes?’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because only a stupid guy would b
uy a British sports car and not be able to do basic repairs.’ She glanced sideways at him. ‘And you may be a playboy barman, but you’re not stupid.’
How long since anyone had shown that sort of belief in him? ‘Not sure I deserve your confidence but thanks.’ He was aware of her eyes on him. ‘What?’
‘One day I’m going to ask why a guy who’s so full of himself when it comes to the opposite sex, puts himself down when things get more personal. But not today.’
He wasn’t sure how he felt about her soft threat. ‘Why not today?’
‘Because today is about me getting on that donut and leaving you for dust … err, snow.’
‘Yeah? Bring it on, Leprechaun.’
She groaned. ‘First Naomi with the elf, now you. I’m dyeing it red tomorrow.’
He laughed, enjoying himself. ‘Good. Red Riding Hood is cute.’
They kept the banter going while he parked, and while they changed and had their helmets fitted. In fact all the way until they stood at the top of the long icy slope.
‘It looks scarier up here.’
Her voice had lost some of its boldness. Because he didn’t want her thinking about it too much, he walked to the lane next to hers and plonked himself down in his rubber ring. ‘It’ll look even scarier when you’re staring at the back of my head.’ He raised his hands aloft in a mock celebration. ‘Victory is mine.’
He’d never seen anyone move so fast. One minute she was standing, the next she was whizzing down ahead of him.
By the time he’d reached the bottom, she was back on her feet, cheeks flushed, eyes dancing. ‘What was that about victory?’
‘That wasn’t a victory, it was blatant cheating.’ He cursed as he struggled to get out of the ring he’d somehow wedged himself in, which only made her expression more gleeful.
‘Need any help there? I know I said your big shoulders wouldn’t help, but I didn’t realise your backside was going to let you down too. Here.’ She held out her hand and tugged.
They were still on snow and it was slippery as shit, so though he made it out of the ring, he unbalanced, which caused him to knock into her and they both went down, limbs tangled, helmets colliding.
He found himself sprawled over her, staring straight into a pair of shocked blue eyes. Chest resting against the most amazing pair of breasts he could ever remember pressing against. Clearing his throat, he croaked out, ‘Are you okay?’
She nodded. ‘Feel I’ve been sat on by an elephant.’
That’s when he realised she was taking all his weight. ‘Crap, sorry.’ He rolled off her, sitting up, then started to laugh. ‘FYI, you were pretty comfy.’
She snorted. ‘Just what every woman wants to hear.’
‘Hey, it was a compliment. No angular, bony bits. Just a lush, bountiful softness and – oof!’ He received a harsh prod to his stomach.
‘Confucius says, when in a hole, stop digging.’
Laughing, he stood and held out his hand to help her up but she shook her head. ‘Seriously? You think it went that well the last time?’
‘You won’t hear any complaints from me.’ He watched while she struggled to her feet, dusting the snow off her legs. ‘So, want to go down again?’
She smirked back up at him. ‘As long as you don’t mind getting beaten by a girl.’
He shrugged. ‘You’ve called me a playboy bar guy with a huge backside who weighs as much as an elephant. I figure I’ve reached my threshold for insults.’ Reaching out his gloved hand, he brushed a flake of snow off her nose. ‘Wow, you’ve got some serious freckles going on there.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Call me cute and I’ll push you down the slope without the ring to cushion that big bum of yours.’
‘Not cute.’ He bit into the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. ‘Oh no, you’re not cute at all, Leprechaun girl.’
But damn it, she was. As Luke followed her back up the stairs to the top of the slope, he wondered how he was going to manage this friends lark, when all he kept thinking about was how much he wanted to kiss her at every conceivable opportunity.
Chapter Thirteen
Mia hung back as Sandy served a customer with what looked to be a large glass of rosé. What did it say about her screwed-up feelings that she was seeing her through clear eyes now she knew Luke and Sandy were only friends?
Just like she and Luke were only friends.
It didn’t matter that there were times her pulse sped up when he looked at her, or butterflies buzzed in her belly when he touched her. It only mattered that she was smart enough to ignore it.
Sandy did a double-take when she saw her. ‘Hi, it’s Mia, isn’t it? I almost didn’t recognise you.’ She waved at Mia’s new highlights. ‘The blue suits you. It matches your eyes.’
‘Thanks, I fancied a change.’ And red had been rejected; she didn’t mind elf and leprechaun but she drew the line at being a little girl. Red Riding Hood, yuk. ‘Have you got a minute?’
Sandy scanned the outdoor area. There were a handful of customers, clearly enjoying the combination of sun, alcohol and the knowledge that most poor sods were spending their Monday afternoon working away in an office. ‘All quiet here. Just have to watch the boss doesn’t catch me skiving. How can I help?’
‘It’s more whether I can help you.’
‘Oh?’ Sandy’s dark brows came together. ‘Is this about the website? Because I was told you couldn’t do it.’
‘Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?’ Mia asked wryly, feeling a twinge of discomfort. Saturday had been … well, the best day she could remember having in months, maybe years. And the orchestrator of it deserved that she kept an open mind and didn’t compare him to her past disasters.
‘He said you were too busy to help.’ Sandy scrunched up her face. ‘Oh no, don’t tell me you guys had a row. Sometimes he forgets to put on his filter and says stuff without thinking. If you were upset by any of it, I can assure you he didn’t mean it.’ She huffed out a breath. ‘He likes you, Mia.’
‘And I like him. As a friend,’ she added quickly when she saw Sandy start to smile. ‘Which is why I wanted to tell you that I’m happy to help in any way I can.’
‘Really? Like you’d be willing to recommend some good website companies for me, tell me what I should be looking out for, or—’
‘I’ll work with you to build one.’
Sandy’s face lit up. ‘Oh wow, that’s fantastic. I’m so chuffed he’s trusting me to sort this out, but I know Jack shit about computers, or websites. My other half might disagree, he reckons I spend far too much money buying stuff online, but sneaking a few online purchases from Next and developing a website for a bar are like chalk and flaming gorgonzola.’
Mia laughed, immediately seeing why Luke and Sandy were friends. Both were funny, and both had a natural way of talking that made you feel as if you’d known them for years. ‘The fact that you use websites yourself is going to be very useful, so tell Jim you need to do more,’ she raised her hands to mime quotation marks, ‘research.’
Sandy smiled. ‘I’ll try. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you know my hubby’s name, by the way. My Poirot powers of deduction tell me you guys must have talked about me.’
‘Guilty.’ Mia didn’t see there was any reason to lie. ‘I might have accused you of sleeping with him, for which I sincerely apologise.’
Sandy let out a huge bellow of a laugh. ‘I can just imagine how well that went down. He probably went hot and cold all over.’
‘It was an interesting conversation.’
Sandy started to say something before stopping and shaking her head. Then she cursed. ‘Bollocks, if we’re going to be working together you’re going to find I’m not one to hold back if I’ve something to say, so I’m just going to come out with it. Don’t judge Luke too harshly by the company he keeps. Plenty of girls who come to the bar do so in the hope of leaving with him, and when it’s served up on a plate like that, waved in front of your face, it’s damn easy t
o accept. Especially when you’ve got no reason to say no.’
Mia found Sandy’s gaze hard to hold. ‘We’re not, that is, Luke and I aren’t…’ She expelled a sharp breath. ‘We’re friends, Sandy. That’s all. He’s going to show me Manchester, I’m helping with the website.’ Sandy didn’t say anything, just nodded, her eyes studying Mia’s face for so long, she started to feel uncomfortable. ‘So, anyway, have a think about what you want the website to do, and we’ll take it from there.’
‘Great, thanks.’ Sandy dug into her apron and retrieved a pad. ‘Can I take your number so we can sort out a time to meet?’
Mia hesitated. ‘Tell Luke when you’re ready. He knows how to contact me.’
‘Okay.’ She looked slightly puzzled as she pushed the notepad away. ‘See you soon then.’
Mia smiled and started walking away, but then she remembered this morning’s note in the window. ‘Oh, and do me a favour and tell your boss Wednesday is fine, though I’m not convinced about the singing. And the forecast isn’t for rain.’
Sandy’s eyes widened and she started to laugh. ‘Oh God, what has he got you guys doing?’
Mia pictured the message again in her head.
A few musical notes coming out of a person’s mouth. A rain cloud. And the words:
Weds @ bar 6pm.
‘You know what, I really don’t know.’ She shrugged, feeling a smile slide across her face. ‘But it’s kind of fun that way.’
As he waited for Mia outside the bar, Luke could feel several pairs of interested eyes inside, watching him. There was Sandy, who’d finished her shift, yet for some reason wasn’t in a rush to go home.
And Mateo, who’d clearly been unconvinced by Luke’s ‘we’re only friends’ spiel. Possibly because when he’d suggested he might ask Mia out, Luke had lost his cool.
‘She might only want to be friends with you, boss,’ he’d boasted. ‘With me, she might want to do the horizontal tango.’
Mr Right Across the Street Page 10
