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“Get in the car and stop looking so worried. I only want to discuss us.”
He wants to talk about us? There’s to be an ‘us’?Unable to sit still, she wriggled in her seat.
“Happy?” He flashed her a sideways grin.
“You have no idea,” she said seriously.
His hand squeezed her thigh. “You have been through it since Mike died, haven’t you?”
She looked down at his large beloved hand. A hand she was intimately acquainted with. Guilt flooded her; she hated lying to him. At some point she needed to come clean about Mike, about everything, but not yet. It was too soon. They needed to become a couple first and this was only the first step toward that goal.
Looking around, Penny noticed they were heading north. “Where are we going for lunch?” she asked.
“My place.”
“Your place? Where is your place?”
“Banbury, Islington. I have a house there,” he explained. “What’s your favourite architecture?”
“Georgian and Victorian; I love the large windows and room proportions you get with both Georgian and Victorian houses.”
“Yeah, me too. I think you’re gonna love my place.”
She smiled.
“What’s that cheeky little grin for?” he asked, looking suspicious.
“Your accent, I’ve missed it. I mean...” Too late she realised what she’d said.
“From Oxford days?”
Phew, she needn’t have worried. “Yeah, I used to drool over your accent back then.”
“Hey, I don’t have an accent. You do but it’s the British accent I love. It’s kinda unfair that I was born here; I’m a Brit but I carry an American accent; bummer or what?”
“Bummer,” she agreed, tongue in cheek.
“Watch it, brat!” He’d caught her sarcasm.
He got her, just as he always had. She chuckled. This was wonderful, like old times. She felt her life coming back to her; it was invigorating!
