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‘True. Okay, then,I’llbuy the drinks. Just name the day.’
I studied him balefully. The man was irritating in the extreme! But in spite of this, I couldn’t help grinning. ‘Name the day? How about the first of never?’
‘Ouch, that hurt.’ He looked crestfallen. ‘Okay, I take the hint. Try not to knock any garbage bins over on your way home.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ I retorted, as he waved and prepared to drive away. ‘At least I’ve never made an arse of myself by driving away with my coffee on the roof of my car!’ I called after him.
I watched him brake and stop, which made the cup wobble, roll across the roof and plummet to the pavement. Grinning, I posted the card and walked on. And when I looked back a moment later, he was out of his car, rescuing his coffee cup. Catching me looking, he shrugged those broad shoulders at me then upended the empty cup on his head with a grin, seeming oblivious of the weird looks he was receiving from passers-by.
I stood there, grinning back and asking myself why I’d refused his offer of a drink.
I liked his quirky humour and the fact that he seemed to approach life with a smile. I didn’t know him at all, of course, but I sensed that Kurt wasn’t the moody type. And I had plenty of experience with the moody type...
I started walking towards him and he straightened up and looked at me in surprise.
‘I just wanted to thank you for making me laugh,’ I told him. ‘Because up till now, I haven’t had an awful lot to laugh about... what with one thing and another. Well, a really bad relationship, actually.’
He nodded, studying me thoughtfully. ‘Glad I was able to help.’
‘You have.’ I hesitated then I added sheepishly, ‘I’m not in the right headspace yet for that drink, though.’
‘It’s just a drink. Not a marriage proposal.’
‘Even so. I’d rather not... go there.’ I shrugged apologetically.
He nodded. ‘Understood. I suppose a friendly coffee is out of the question as well?’
I smiled at him. He looked so hopeful... and actually, unbearably cute.
His mobile rang at that moment and he registered the caller’s name with a frown. ‘Sorry, I’m going to have to get this. Look, what’s your number?’
‘My phone’s dead,’ I lied.
‘Okay.’ He pulled the passenger door open, reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a notepad and a pen, then he answered the call. ‘Hi, Colin. Can you hang on just a sec?’ He scribbled his number on a page, tore it off and handed it to me. ‘In case you change your mind,’ he said with a little smile.
As he turned his attention to his phone call, I pocketed the number, smiled at him and walked away.
I’d made the right decision, saying I wasn’t ready for anything romantic. Because I really wasn’t. It was far too soon after Nash. And a ‘friendly coffee’ was hardly going to work, either, judging by the frisson of electricity that seemed to spark every time we met. How soon would it be before a ‘friendly coffee’ became something more?
On the other hand, there was another school of thought that said I shouldn’t let my bad experience with Nash put me off getting to know someone lovely like Kurt...
Oh, hell, why did life have to be quite so complicated?
CHAPTER TWELVE
That night, back at the flat, I found a box in the second bedroom that I hadn’t unpacked, and opening it, I saw it contained Christmas presents I’d received from Milo and Jaz, including a bottle of Irish Cream.
I’d never fancied the drink myself, thinking it would probably be too sickly for my tastes. But I opened the bottle and tried it and actually, it was delicious. So I filled a small glass and took it into the bathroom where I was planning a nice long soak.
I lay there among the bubbles, thinking about Kurt and sipping my drink. It was so creamy and delicious, and after thinking for so long that I’d hate it, it seemed to be slipping down very easily indeed When I got out of the bath to top up my glass, my head swam a little, probably because it was quite steamy hot in the bathroom. I didn’t stay in for too long after that, mainly because I’d got a serious attack of the munchies. I stood in the kitchen in my dressing gown wolfing down a family-sized packet of crisps, and it was only when I glanced at the bottle of Irish Cream (the level had sunk a bit by this time) and saw to my disbelief that it was actually a liqueur and fairly alcoholic, that I realised I was properly drunk for the first time in years.
Laughing at myself and feeling nicely woozy, I fell asleep in front of the TV then woke around midnight with a banging headache. Still unsteady on my feet, I managed to find some painkillers then I crawled into bed and was out like a light as soon as my head touched the pillow. I woke exactly four hours later and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I lay there thinking about dustbins and post boxes and men with sexy smiles and a wicked line in banter. And then, in my drunken daze, I started worrying that I might never see Kurt again.
What if our accidental meetings were like buses? Three in quick succession and then no sightings at all for the next ten years!
This was such an alarming thought that I switched on the light and struggled to a sitting position. Kurt had given me his phone number for if I wanted to go for a ‘friendly coffee’ but where had I put the scrap of paper he’d written it on?
Staggering out of bed, I searched in the obvious places: handbag and coat pockets. But there was no sign of it, so I tipped out the contents of my bag onto the bed and raked through it, knowing how often it happened that it wasn’t there the first time you looked, but then magically, it turned up on second inspection.
