‘I haven’t stopped smiling,’ she said to Nate. ‘It’s so exciting.
His eyes sparkled and he drained his pint, picking up a new one.
‘It is exciting, you’re right.’
He leaned closer and she held his eyes for a beat. How did he always smell good? Like fireworks and colourful dreams.
‘Don’t you have to celebrate with your team? You know, good leadership and all that?’ Laurel said.
Nate pulled a hand through his hair and glanced out the window.
‘I suppose I should, shouldn’t I?’ He scrunched up his nose.
‘You really should.’ She nodded.
‘Come on then,’ Nate put his hand out, ‘after you.’
Laurel let him usher her out, his warm hand nearly burning through her thin t-shirt.
Nate Daley was so damned attractive. But they worked together, so she had to keep it in her pants. Besides, he was just being friendly and probably like this with all women around his age. Let’s face it, there wasn’t much choice was there? The students were too young and the only other person was a very married Rebecca. Perhaps he just found it hilarious making her blush.
The students were sprawled on three of the four picnic benches, overflowing onto the low wall, looking like a music festival advert in their pork pie hats, skinny jeans and unironic t-shirts. Laurel perched on the wall behind them, Nate sitting next to her. She waved at a couple of locals sitting on the remaining table. If she kept everyone onside it could only help with development.
‘Laurel!’ Came a cheer from Robin’s friends, who had congregated near a clump of female students.
‘Boys.’ She tilted her glass to them in greeting.
‘You get on well with Robin’s friends?’ Nate asked.
‘Half of them grew up on the farm running around playing lost boys and pirates. The amount of skinned knees I’ve patched up and sleepovers I’ve refereed.’ She angled her body to him. ‘But enough about me, you know practically everything there is to know, and I’ve got to ask.’ Her face was hot, but she’d started now. Her mouth wouldn’t stop moving and the words were just escaping from her brain. ‘Where’s Lucia?’
Nate nearly spat out his beer and Laurel clapped him on the back, because that’s what you were supposed to do when someone was choking, wasn’t it?
‘Uh, she’s in Goa, or Colombia, or Moldova, I don’t know.’
‘Oh.’ Laurel studied her drink. ‘So, you’re not still together then?’
Oh god, why had she asked this? It was literally like turning on a very big flashing neon sign that said LAUREL FLETCHER WANTS TO HAVE SEX WITH YOU. But it was a desperate, burning need to know whether he was attached or not, which had first planted itself precisely at the time Nate had stepped into her line of sight all those weeks ago.
She glanced up at him to check that he had heard, because he was taking too long to answer. Nate glanced around.
‘No, we’re not. There’s no one,’ he said.
She nodded and dragged her eyes away to a group of female students dancing to tinny music from a phone in the middle of the patio area.
‘You?’ He nudged her with his shoulder.
Laurel’s stomach flopped around like a tantruming child because this thing between them, whatever it was, wasn’t just her. Perhaps he had a neon sign as well.
No, he was just making conversation.
‘In case you haven’t noticed, it’s hardly bursting with eligible bachelors around here.’ She grinned. ‘Besides, I grew up with everyone here, and I am definitely not into the incestuous small town relationship thing.’
Especially after her one night stand with George Hibbert, and his utter inability to let it go.
Nate nodded contemplatively, his nearly-too-long hair flopping over his forehead. Well, that was all different kinds of sexy.
‘Laurel,’ Robin called sharply and she snapped her eyes to him. He nodded to a newcomer stalking down the road, obviously displeased with the brisk business of the pub.
