Maxime blinked, and I sent a silent prayer to St. Maria Goretti, patron saint of forgiveness, for my lie. Maxime didn’t look cross, though. He just nodded.
Hewasn’t giving me a free pass to use his bed for social hour, but in the absence of his usual scowl, maybe things had thawed between us.
Maybe peace by glittery gloopwas an actual thing.
I opened my mouth to tell him about my eternal hunt for a phone signal when a butterfly flitted past. Bean erupted from the lavender bank, racing over to chase it. As it bounced in theair, he jumped high, arms outstretched. I chuckled. “Looks like somebody’s had their breakfast.”
Maxime laughed too, and a glow spread in my heart. I’d lacked the courage to tell him Sophie had named the little fluff-ball but thank the lord for the distraction of kittens. Billions of internet viewers couldn’t be wrong.
I grimaced. “Hopefully he doesn’t chew its wings. Seeing him this morning threw me—I assumed he’d followed Sophie down to the club again. He’s started making a habit of it.”
The moment the words left my mouth, that now-familiar line etched between Maxime’s brows. “I saw Sophie at the club when I came back from fishing.”
I shuffled my feet, kicking the grass with my sandals. I knew he didn’t like her being there. “Fifi invited her to stay for the day. I haven’t had much daylight time to myself since I’ve been here.” It was true. My “me time” usually involved lonely evenings. Silence and darkness were no good for the soul or drying my laundry.
“And I believe there was a heavy bribe on offer for her time. Something about folding napkins and polishing cutlery for money.”
Maxime huffed. “So I heard. What does she want to buy?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s saving up to run away with the circus.”
He gave a tiny shake of his head. “Why would she want to run away?”
I sighed. Damn language barrier. “It’s a figure of speech, nothing more. Look, it might not be my place to say, but with boarding school, endless travelling and homework on holidays, she might want some fun. A little adventure. Some financial freedom and a chance to express herself.”
His pause rivalled the width of the Grand Canyon. “But she’s only twelve. How can she express herself? And what would she want to buy?”
I hummed a laugh. “Lip gloss, hair clips, magazines. All the things a normal tweenager wants. I know I couldn’t buy enough bath bombs at her age. I liked to pretend I was bathing in fizzy drinks.”
Maxime returned to his default scowl. “Bath bombs?”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry, they sound more violent than they are.”
He shook his head, like I was a puzzle he had no hope of solving. The movement sent a loose strand of hair sweeping across his cheekbone, and I clamped my hand to my side. I didn’t trust myself not to reach out and tuck it behind his ear.
I sighed, lifting my basket again. “I’m sure Sophie will have a fun day, andIbetter get back to hanging my washing. I don’t want to run out of clean knickers.”
Maxime widened his eyes, and a slight hint of warmth lit his stubbled cheeks. Some traitorous part of me lit up, too. Had I deliberately aimed a little close to the bone with my words? I couldn’t help it—I enjoyed getting a reaction out of him.
I moved a few meters to the washing line and set about my work. The odd clunk or scrape of metal sounded behind me. He was busy working on his bike, but I could feel his gaze on my back as I pegged out my shabby dresses and underwear. Heat prickled up my neck, and not just from the sun.
I travelled light, so my reason to be in the garden, and in Maxime’s presence, ended all too soon. Ignoring the tightness in my ribs, I turned to face him with a smile. “There. All done.”
He squinted into the glare of the light, the tiny silver patches at his temples catching the sun. He took in my meagre line of limp garments and my gut twisted.
“Pretty bad, eh? I don’t get many invites to balls or parties, so I didn’t pack anything fancy.”
Why the need to justify my travelling wardrobe to him?Maxime was hardly a sharp dresser. He spent most of his time half naked.
But when he huffed and returned to his work, my chest fizzed. Was that a hint? A quiet dismissal? A clue that he no longer appreciated my presence.
If it was, I didn’t take the cue. Something held me there, as if he’d pulled me into an invisible force field, and all I wanted was to get closer.
“When did you get the bike?” I asked, slowly stepping towards him like he was a lion, and someone had left his cage door open.
Maxime wiped the perspiration on his brow with the back of his hand. “It was my father’s.”
I dragged in a breath, a sudden burn at the back of my throat. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...”
