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Chapter 16
Jasper opens the door, and I feel a wave of relief when I see his warm, handsome face. He is wearing a light grey cashmere jumper and dark jeans that look similar to the ones in his case. He brushes a hand through his thick, foppish brown hair and there is a look of recognition in his eyes. Then he gives me a smile that lights him up.
‘You,’ he says.
‘Me.’
And we just stare at each other like idiots for a minute.
‘Will you come in?’ he says, holding the door open wide.
Now I really hope I brushed my teeth properly. As I walk ahead of him, I discreetly breathe into my palm just to check. I doubt the heroines in Richard Curtis films ever had to worry about their breath smelling.
Jasper leads me to a spacious farmhouse kitchen, all sleek pale granite work surfaces and a few tastefully retained period features – large oak beams and stone slab flooring. This is good; if I’m noticing the stone flooring, I must be sober. Jasper pulls out a leather-topped bar stool for me.
‘I owe you an apology, Laura – carelessly picking up the wrong bag, and then revealing myself to be so slovenly that I haven’t even unpacked or noticed for twenty-four hours.’ He looks across the kitchen island at me, and his cheeks crease into dimples. Wow, he really is incredibly attractive. Though a little younger than I remember from the airport. His face has a boyish quality, but he’s probably late twenties like I am.
‘Well, you have a decent excuse – lifeboat training, your mother mentioned,’ I say, daring to glance down at his hand – no ring. Cha-ching.
He nods.
‘I’m only a part-time volunteer, but it’s still a big commitment training wise.’
Though he has a lean build, he has broad, manly hands, perfect for pulling people from the water, or kneading dough, or playing the piano, or putting one on either side of my naked hips and – OK, inappropriate.
‘Will you stay for a drink? Whatever you feel like, I have a fully stocked bar.’
‘I shouldn’t have anything alcoholic, I’ve already had a few this evening,’ I say, giving him my most demure smile. ‘Maybe just a tea?’
Jasper starts pulling down cups and saucers from a shelf.
‘I have Darjeeling, Assam, Oolong?’
‘Any of the above.’ I shrug, I know nothing about tea except I like it with milk, no sugar.
‘Let’s have Oolong for a change, then,’ Jasper says, tapping a glass jar and taking it down from the shelf. ‘I have to say it feels fortuitous, us picking up each other’s cases,’ he says, spooning loose leaf tea into a small grey earthenware teapot.
‘It does?’
‘This might be speaking out of turn, but when we ran into each other in the airport, I—’ He turns back towards me, shaking his head in feigned embarrassment.
‘What?’ I say with a girlish giggle that doesn’t sound at all like me.
‘Well.’ He closes his eyes briefly. ‘I wanted to ask you out. I know we barely said a word to each other, but, well, I’ve never scrabbled around the floor to retrieve’ – he pauses, his lips twitching briefly as he searches for the right word – ‘the washbag contents of someone so beautiful before.’
I clench every muscle in my body. Did he just say I was beautiful?
‘Hardly,’ I say, feeling a playful scowl crease my forehead.
‘You’re stunning, Laura, as I’m sure you know, but – I don’t think we British folk know how to ask someone out in the middle of an airport,’ Jasper wrinkles his nose. I can’t stop watching the muscles in his face move. Is this really happening, or is this a fantasy? Maybe I passed out drunk in the sea and this is some kind of drowning hallucination.
‘I would have felt sleazy asking if I could have your number in front of a concourse full of people. Plus, you probably have a boyfriend or a husband or a …’ He lets the sentence hang, and I look up to meet his eye with a deliciously laden look.
‘None of the above.’
‘When I got the message about a woman having my case, I— It sounds ridiculous – but I hoped it might be you.’
This could literally not be going any better.
