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“Now you’re being facetious.”
“Yeah, maybe. But I wasn’t ready to settle for the house and the mortgage and…”
“—having kids?”
“That too.”
How could she say it wasn’t that simple? Nothing was ever that simple.
Oliver stared into his wine. “Well, this has all got rather deep and meaningful suddenly, hasn’t it?”
“Guess it’s good to get to know your travel companion.” She took a sip, got up, plonked her cup on the table. “To make sure they’re not a mad axe murderer.”
“You didn’t notice the axe poking out the back of the kombi then?”
The way he looked at her, dark eyes dancing, the tiny tug at the corner of his mouth made her want to lodge a formal complaint to the vulva goddess. No smile, however wicked, should have the power to drill its way through the gusset of a girl’s knickers.
She blustered, “Control freak you may be, axe murderer I’m pretty sure you are not. You wouldn’t want blood messing up your nicely ironed shirts.”
He pouted—actually pouted—which did nothing to calm things down in the vulva region. “This one, I’ll have you know,” he said, giving a little pull to the front of his shirt, “is non-iron.”
“Yeah, and I bet you have seven identical ones packed for each day on the road.”
“Close.”
“What exactly?”
“Two more like this, a Lacoste polo shirt and three T-shirts.”
“Let me guess. All perfectly folded? And the T-shirts are designer brands, right?”
“Goes without saying. And yes, all beautifully folded.”
“Well, I’ll have you know, I’m not a folder. I’m a stuffer.” She went over to her carry bag and proceeded to show him just how good she was at stuffing.
He grinned, peering over her shoulder. “You’ve managed to squeeze in a fair bit there.”
“It’s amazing what you can do when you stuff and roll, and squeeze things down the side. That’s why I didn’t buy a hat before I left England—I would have stuffed it into oblivion.”
“You would get a lot more in if you packed strategically. You’d have plenty of room to fit your hat if you folded all that stuff neatly.”
“But that would take time that I could be doing something else.”
An eyebrow lifted. “Like what?”
“Oh, lots of things.” She shrugged airily, tugging out her toiletries bag, which she’d wedged down the side. And her little pink sateen nightdress that never crumpled.
He was silent. She looked around and saw his gaze fixed on her nightdress.
“So, you want to do this thing?” she trilled.
Oliver’s head jerked up. “What!”
Dip-stick Felicity.Her cheeks turned wildly hot. “The road trip. Happy to keep going, or have I completely put you off?”
“You think I’d pull out now?”
“Let’s be honest, day one has been more like a descent into hell than a nice leisurely trip down to the coast.”
