Oh, Eleanor, you are playing with fire. Where are you hoping to go with this?
Maybe I was hoping to have some more amazing times, with a wonderful man, and see how it goes without overthinking it all! Maybe normal people don’t feel obliged to confess their worst secrets to a potential boyfriend on their first date?
Maybe.
Daniel was trying to play it cool, but a flush of pale pink had crept up the side of his neck.
‘So, what now?’ he asked, handing Hope a chunk of pancake.
‘Um, well, check-out is by eleven, but we don’t have to head straight home, we could go for a walk, or take a boat out on the lake? It’s probably warm enough for a picnic.’
Daniel smiled. ‘Yes to all of those things. But what now for you and me?’
To my relief, I managed not to splurt out my mouthful of coffee.
‘Um?’
‘I know it’s not cool to be applying labels after one date, but we have been living together for two months. I got virtually no sleep last night thinking about you. About us. About whether there was any chance of there being an us.’ He paused to smile at my mum as she strode past, flicking seamlessly back to me the second she’d moved out of earshot. ‘I’m not sure I can bear to go back home not knowing whether there’s at least a chance of being able to kiss you good morning, or stare at you across the dinner table, or ask if you want to stay up late and talk without you running away again.’
Okay, so I had planned to be strong, play it cool, keep things casual. But come on! How could anyone fail to melt in response to that?
‘Yes.’
‘Yes, there’s a chance?’ Daniel quirked up one side of his mouth. ‘Can you give me a percentage?’
‘Um… one hundred?’
‘I’ll take those odds.’ He ducked his head, concentrating on helping Hope with her breakfast, but I’d seen the joy shining in his eyes, and it perfectly matched the delight in mine.
I shoved the twinge of unease deep down beneath my fluttering stomach, and finished my breakfast.
* * *
It was a movie montage of a day. The sparkling lake reflected a sky the colour of forget-me-nots as we cycled into the town on bikes borrowed from the Tufted Duck’s tourist stash. Stopping for coffee by the shore in the spring sunshine, Hope’s eyes grew round with delight as she jabbered at the ducks quacking around our table. Afterwards, we caught the ferry over to the western side of the Lake, where I knew every trail and bike track, only stopping for lunch once Hope was nodding off in her toddler seat. We ate sandwiches pilfered from the kitchen sitting in a clearing, our coats a makeshift blanket. The air was fresh and sweet, spiced with the scent of earth and trees. The sound of birds and boats drifted across like a long-forgotten mix tape from my youth. Being here with Daniel sent pure joy fizzing through my veins.
And knowing he felt the same? The way he caught my eye and held it in the warmth of his gaze? The way that his hand kept brushing mine, how the spot he settled down on to eat meant that our shoulders were only millimetres apart… it was like an all-day internal firework display.
If it hadn’t been for Hope cooing beside us on the coats, I’m certain that a lot more would have happened. But that was fine, the anticipation and gentle flirting was delicious.
After dropping the bikes back, we loaded up the car and left for home. Even sitting beside Daniel in the car had my skin tingling. At one point, while waiting at a traffic light, he took hold of my hand and rested it in the space between the seats, andthose endless seconds before he needed to let go and change gears felt like I was already home.
We stopped at a roadside café styled as an American diner, sharing steaming bowls of chilli with a mountain of nachos while Hope methodically spread jacket potato and cheese all over her face and hair.
Night had fallen by the time we arrived back at the farm, and returning to a cold, dark house gave the impression that we had been away far longer than two nights. I did an expert job of tucking a still sleeping Hope into her cot, praying the whole time that she wouldn’t wake up, and ducked into the bathroom to brush my hair, give my teeth a surreptitious clean and try to get my jangling neurones under control.
The recent sleep-deprived nights and busy days had exhausted me, but there was enough adrenaline whizzing through my bloodstream to keep my senses wide awake.
Daniel had lit a fire in the living room and switched on the artfully placed table-lamps rather than the main overhead light.
‘I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer wine or tea?’ he asked, rising to his feet as I walked in.
I checked the time on the clock above the fireplace. Just after eight. ‘Wine?’
‘Perfect.’ He picked up a full glass from the sideboard and handed it to me.
‘Sure enough, then?’
Daniel smiled. ‘I lied. I was completely sure, I just thought you might be offended if I told you.’
