by Jill Mansell
It was a mind-blowing experience, and one Dan knew he’d never forget as long as he lived. Two weeks ago, in the kitchen of Goldstone House, he’d held and reassured her, and it had felt fantastic, but this was up to a whole stratospheric new level. It wasn’t perfect, what with one arm still strapped into a sling, but imagine what it would be like if he had both hands free…
OK, it hadn’t been nearly enough, but it was going to have to do, since this so-called exercise was meant to be for Lily’s benefit, not his own. It almost killed Dan to kiss her for one last second, then ease away, but he somehow managed it.
For a long moment, it seemed as if the air was vibrating between them. He looked at Lily, from her beautiful mouth to her even more beautiful eyes, and waited for her to break the silence. What he wanted her to say, of course, was, “That’s it. I’m going to tell Eddie it’s all over… You’re the one I want to be with… It’s you; it’s always been you…”
He held his breath, silently willing her to say it.
Oh God, and she was still gazing up at him. What was going through her mind?
“Well, it worked,” Lily said at last, and there was a faint tremor in her voice.
“It did? How are you feeling?”
“Terrible.” She exhaled, then broke into a rueful smile. “Just awful.”
“Why?” What he wanted was for her to shake her head in disbelief and say: “Because now I know how much I love you.”
She briefly closed her eyes, then opened them again. “Just like you said. Because now I’ve done something I shouldn’t have done. And it’s not fair to Eddie. I’ve betrayed him. He doesn’t deserve that.”
Not the reply he’d been hoping for, to be honest, but probably the one he’d expected. Oh well, the fantasy had been nice while it lasted.
“Well, that’s good. So it’s mission accomplished. We set out to make you feel guilty, and now you do.” He could still feel the imprint of her warm mouth on his, but the moment had passed; it was time to revert to friendship mode. He shrugged and said flippantly, “That’s what I call a result.”
“Well, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” He smiled briefly, as if she were some just-met girl who meant nothing to him. “All part of the service.”
Lily nodded. She sat up and reached into the box of raspberries. “You won’t tell anyone, though? You do promise?”
It lacerated him to think she still needed to be reassured. “I’ve already promised. You know you can trust me.”
“I thought I could trust other people.” Her expression was rueful. “Turns out I couldn’t. I suppose I’m—Ow!”
Dan’s gaze had been fixed on her eyes. If he’d been paying more attention, he would have seen the wasp perched on the raspberry she was putting into her mouth. By the time he batted it away, it was too late. Lily had been stung on her bottom lip.
“Bastard wasp!” She clapped her hand over her mouth and let out a squeak of pain. “That hurts.”
“Here, let me look.” Dan knew she wasn’t allergic to wasp stings; he suspected he just wanted an excuse to touch her again. Moving closer and nudging her hand away, he held the side of her face and studied the site of the sting.
Not a lot to see, to be honest.
Just a bit of redness and maybe a slight swelling.
“If it were a snake bite, I’d offer to suck out the poison,” he said.
“That’s really helpful. Thank you. If my lip swells up like a balloon, I’m going to look ridiculous,” Lily fretted. At that moment, her phone began to ring, and she let out a groan of despair. “Oh no, it’s Eddie.”
Dan moved back. Lily flapped her hand at him to stay silent, and he spent the next few minutes listening to her telling Eddie that she’d just been stung on the lip by a wasp while neglecting to mention where she was and who she was with.
By the time she ended the call, her bottom lip was visibly bigger, and she was visibly more upset.
“What is it?” Dan asked.
“Oh, come on. You know perfectly well what. We did that thing we did”—Lily gestured helplessly between them—“and less than a minute later, I’m stung by a wasp. On my mouth,” she emphasized.
“And?”
She stuck out her swollen bottom lip. “If that isn’t karma, I don’t know what is.”
Chapter 42
Twenty-four hours had passed since That Kiss, and Lily was still so shaken by the experience that she was beginning to wonder if she’d ever feel normal again.
Oh God, though, it had been so completely and utterly mind-blowing. She’d expected it to be a bit special, what with her having secretly wanted to kiss Dan for years, but no way had she expected it to take her over like this. It was like having your body infiltrated by a spirit and being incapable of controlling any aspect of it. Her brain was flatly refusing to concentrate on anything else. Her heart quickened every time she thought about Dan—which was all the time, pretty much—and her production of adrenaline was in overdrive.
Plus, there was the guilt issue. Because there was undoubtedly guilt there. But try as she might, Lily knew she definitely wasn’t feeling anywhere near guilty enough.
She heaved a sigh and looked at her reflection in the dressing table mirror. What a mess, what an unholy mess. And what had she done? Only ended up making her own life that much more difficult.
Because it clearly hadn’t meant anything to Dan. He’d come up with the idea on the spur of the moment and done the deed without stopping to think twice about it. Boom, kiss administered, job done. She was the one who should have guessed just how much turmoil it would set off. She should have said no when he’d first made the offer, laughed it off, and not allowed it to happen.
Except she hadn’t done that, had she? Instead, like a complete numbskull, she’d let him go ahead and do it, unleashing all kinds of bodily havoc.
Twiiinnnggg went her phone, and Lily jumped, because pretty much everything was making her jumpy right now. Then she did it again when she saw the text that had flashed up on the screen from Eddie.
Skype??
Oh God, she couldn’t, just couldn’t do it. Not yet, not while she was in this much of a state. It was hard enough speaking to him on the phone. Actually looking him in the eyes and pretending everything was fine were definitely more than she could handle right now.
Hastily she texted back, You’d get a fright if you did—my lip’s swollen up like a football. I look awful.
You see? Even that wasn’t true; her lip was fine. She was lying to conceal her guilt, but the real guilt wasn’t what Dan thought it was.
As far as he was concerned, the plan had been that she would feel bad because she’d physically kissed another man.
What he was blissfully unaware of—thank goodness—was the fact that she felt bad because it had been the best kiss, the best thirty seconds, and the most heavenly experience of her life.
Another text from Eddie lit up the phone’s screen.
I don’t mind how scary you look. xxx
Lily texted back, Maybe not, but I do! Can’t talk now. I’ll call later. Hope your TV thing goes well. xxx
He replied, OK. Love you. x
Excuse me? Lily looked at the message again. He’d definitely written Love you at the end.
OK, that was weird. He’d never said those words to her before, so why would he be texting them now?
Did he actually mean it?
Was he texting the fact that he loved her because it was less terrifying than saying it to her face?
Did she even want him to be saying it, given the situation she currently found herself in?
Lily closed her eyes, then opened them again and gave her reflection in the mirror a get-real look.
Because it wasn’t as if she had two lovely men after her, and all she had to do was choose which one she liked best
. Eddie Tessler was really nice, but he was from a show-businessy parallel universe, and she suspected she was a bit of a novelty, more of a passing whim for him than anything serious and lasting. And she was fine with that, because deep down she knew theirs was a relationship that had never been destined to last. It was a dalliance and it was fun, but it would never be long term. There were too many differences between them for that.
While Dan was simply Dan, her oldest friend and the last person you’d ever want to get properly involved with, because Dan just didn’t do proper involvement. If she were to give him her heart, he would break it.
And life in Stanton Langley would be awkward forever more.
Which was why she had—had—to get over the kiss.
Her phone burst into life, and she saw that Eddie was now calling her.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m still not Skyping.”
“I know. It’s OK. This is a bit embarrassing actually. I pressed Send on that last text before realizing what I’d done.”
During the ensuing awkward pause, Lily started to laugh. “Thank goodness for that. You didn’t mean it!”
“Exactly.” Eddie sounded relieved. “It’s how I used to end texts to my last girlfriend. I just did it this time without thinking. I didn’t want you to wonder what it meant…”
“I was wondering,” Lily said, still smiling. “It seemed a bit weird. Anyway, mystery solved. I’m glad you called to explain.”
“And I’m glad you’re OK about it. I mean, I do like you a lot. You know I do…”
“But it’s too soon for any of that love stuff. God, yes.”
“Thanks. Bye,” said Eddie.
“Bye. Love you,” teased Lily.
“Ha-ha, very funny.”
Less than five seconds after ending the call, another text arrived. This time, it was from Dan.
Where are you? Have you fallen asleep? Dinner’s ready, and we’re waiting for you to get your lazy backside over here, or I’ll eat all your roast potatoes myself. X
Lily dusted a bit of powder over her freckled nose, slicked on some lip gloss, and jumped to her feet. She could put on a carefree face and keep acting as if they were just friends.
She had to, because they were.
Rapidly she texted back, Touch any of my roast potatoes and you’re a dead man. On my way.
Then she paused and added a single kiss, to match the one Dan had used to end his text to her.
One tiny online kiss. Who’d have imagined the amount of upheaval a real-life one could cause?
* * *
Declan had never before worked so hard or such long hours. OK, maybe he had, but never before with such intent and purpose. The last week had been a blur of activity, coordinating other workers and getting as much done as humanly possible. In his mind, he’d wanted everything finished by the time Coral returned home from the South of France. Superstitiously—and he’d never been superstitious in his life—he’d decided that if the renovation could be completed, all would be well.
He bloody hoped so, anyway.
The other idea that had been unfurling in his brain was one that ran along the lines of what if he were to completely change his mind about the cottage? Because if everything did work out as he very much hoped it would, maybe he wouldn’t need to sell or rent it out after all. He could afford to keep it for his own use, make it his escape from the pressures of city life, his idyllic weekend retreat…
And now it was Saturday afternoon. Weaver’s Cottage had been transformed, and Coral was at this very moment on her way back from the airport.
Declan stood in the center of the open kitchen, with its stunning room-length view over the valley and the rolling hills beyond. The cabinets were white and the counters dark green, the surfaces illuminated by pools of light from the spotlights strategically installed beneath the wall units. With its white floor, sleek silver accessories, and accents of crimson, the room was unrecognizable as the cluttered, unsanitary, nicotine-stained kitchen that had belonged to Old Malcolm for almost seventy years.
He’d taken the call from Lily an hour ago. “Coral’s on her way home. Are you going to be at the cottage this afternoon? Because I told her how much work you’d done, and she can’t wait to see how it’s looking now. She said if your car’s outside, she’ll stop off and you can give her the grand tour.”
Whereupon Declan, who had actually planned to drive into Chipping Norton to get his chainsaw fixed, had casually replied, “Oh, I’ll be here.”
Twenty minutes later, he heard the sound of a taxi pulling up outside the front gate. Unable to play it cool and wait for the doorbell to ring, Declan pulled open the door, waved to Coral, and called out, “Hi!”
She was looking fantastic, bright-eyed and happy. Oh God, it was so good to see her again.
“Hooray, hello! I’m longing to see everything you’ve done.” She jumped out of the taxi and greeted him with a hug before breaking away as the driver hauled her turquoise suitcase out of the back. “Oh, thank you so much.” Extending the handle and taking charge of the case, Coral paid him before turning back to Declan. “Is this OK? Will you be able to give me a lift home after we’ve finished here?”
“Of course. No problem. I could have picked you up from the airport,” Declan said. “It wouldn’t have been any trouble.” Ha, talk about understatement; it would have been the very opposite of trouble.
“Oh no, no, no.” Coral waved her free hand. “I won’t let anyone do that. It’s so mortifying when the flight’s delayed and whoever it is ends up having to wait for hours to pick you up.”
“So you get a taxi instead, and the flight’s never delayed.”
“Exactly that.” She grinned at him. “Murphy’s Law. Works like a charm every time.”
Declan took the case from her. “Come along then. Let’s get inside.”
“Can’t wait,” Coral said. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”
Not as much as he had. Declan led the way into the cottage, his heart thudding with anticipation. He would show her everything that had been done first, get it out of the way, then tell her that his relationship with Gail was over. He’d pictured her reaction so many times…
Of course she would be surprised, then sympathetic…but there would also, with a bit of luck, be a glimmer of relief and hope in her eyes. And then he would confide in her the reason for him having ended it, and he’d witness the expression on her face, of disbelief mingling with growing joy and delight as she finally understood what he was—
“Oh my goodness, look at this place. What a difference,” Coral exclaimed as she stepped into the open kitchen. “It’s fantastic!”
While she was gazing around in wonder, Declan secretly gazed in wonder at her. She was wearing a pink-and-white-striped shirt and her favorite jeans. Her tan had deepened, accentuating the clear blueness of her eyes, and her blond hair was fastened up at the sides with white clips, which revealed her slender neck. The idea of kissing that neck was—
“So you listened to me, then.” Smiling, she swung around to him.
“Sorry?” It was hard to stop thinking about her neck.
“The splashes of red.” Coral pointed to the velvet cushions on the window seat, the blinds, and the glossy wall tiles behind the sink. “I can’t believe you remembered.”
Declan remembered every single word she’d ever uttered. On the day of the property auction, he’d been explaining to her that he normally redecorated in neutral colors, and she’d said, “Oh, but don’t you love a pop of color? Something bright to liven things up? I just think it makes all the difference!”
“I gave it a go,” he replied good-naturedly. “And you were right.”
“You’ve done a great job. Seriously, I love it.” Coral was investigating the cupboards now, opening and closing drawers, admiring the spectacular view from the window. “I could
live here myself.”
There were so many possible replies to that, but before he could even formulate one, she was off, disappearing into the living room to admire the light ivory decor (with accents of mulberry and plum). Then she ran upstairs, and he showed her the bathroom, followed by the smaller spare room, and finally the main bedroom. In here the walls were sunny yellow, the carpet was thick and pale gold, and the fitted units were white. This time the accent of color was supplied by the view from the windows of the valley spread out below them.
“You’ve done it,” Coral said simply. “It’s just perfect.”
What Declan wanted to say was: So are you.
But it was too soon. Instead he nodded. “Thanks. It’s turned out well. I’m happy.”
Coral was smiling up at him. “So you should be.”
Hopefully he was about to become happier. “Shall we go downstairs and have a coffee? I want to hear all about your vacation. Did you have a great time?”
“Oh, the best. I’m so glad I went.” She moved past him, wafting unfamiliar perfume in her wake.
“You smell different.” Declan couldn’t help saying it as he followed her down the staircase.
“I know. I bought it in a little shop in Saint-Tropez. Fancied a change. What do you think?”
“Nice.” Was it nice? He wasn’t so sure; it was heavier and spicier than the scent she’d always worn before. To change the subject, Declan said, “You’re looking well.”
Because that was definitely true.
“Thanks.” Back in the kitchen-diner, Coral occupied one of the crimson-cushioned stools around the central island while he switched on the coffeemaker. “I feel fantastic. Everyone there was so friendly. And I’ve gotten back into painting, can you believe it? It’s like a miracle!”
“Lily told me you had.” Declan smiled, because she was glowing with happiness, and her joy was contagious. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve done. And, you know”—he indicated the walls around them—“if you did feel like donating one to a deserving cause, that’d be great.”
