My head is reeling.
Theo was going to get married?
I don’t know why I feel so shocked.
I suppose I had an impression of him as a fairly easy-going, laid-back sort of guy, happily living the single life. But his apparently tragic past would indicate otherwise.
‘Twi? Are you all right?’ Diana frowns up at me. ‘Don’t worry about the spill.’
Her words filter slowly through to my brain, as if she’s talking under water. I remember where I am and paste on a smile. ‘I’ll get you another cappuccino. Honestly, it’s no trouble at all.’
I retreat behind the counter and start making the coffee. My hand stings a little where the hot liquid landed on it, but I’m too preoccupied with the heartbreaking image of Theo as a ‘lone wolf’ – because of losing his fiancée – to do anything about it.
When the drink is ready, I realise I forgot to put in fresh coffee grounds so I have to pour it away and start all over again …
Chapter 21
The training session isn’t as bad as I imagined it would be.
It’s a whole lot worse.
I turn up at the green in shorts and T-shirt, expecting to spend a leisurely ten minutes chatting about the great weather we’ve been having and possibly watching Theo flex his muscles, demonstrating the exercises he wants me to perform. (I’m quite looking forward to that bit. From an educational viewpoint, of course.) But within sixty seconds of establishing that I haven’t done any formal exercise for years, I’m thrown straight into stretching out muscles I never knew I had.
As I feel the burn in my hamstrings, pivot round at the waist and do ‘lunges’ that push my thigh muscles to the limit, Theo keeps up a reassuring commentary, giving me tips on technique and making encouraging noises, like he’s impressed with my efforts. This, of course, makes me want to perform even better, which is a very cunning move on his part. I’ll be aching all over tomorrow, that’s for sure, but that’s fine because it’s all in a good cause.
Clearly, my technique leaves a lot to be desired, but as I huff and puff and gasp, I’m finding there’s one part of exercising that I’m really good at.
The sweating bit.
All great athletes sweat like mad. And I’m brilliant at it!
Honestly, my body is so efficient at cooling me down, you just wouldn’t believe it. Of course, it is the middle of June and fairly humid, which probably accounts in part for the moisture that’s making my T-shirt cling. And there’s also the fact that Theo Steel is undoubtedly ‘hot’ in a very different way to me. (Those subtly defined biceps and long, muscular legs are enough to make any woman ‘come over all unnecessary’, as my granny used to say.)
Not that Theo Steel’s muscles have anything to do with the soaring temperature inside my T-shirt. No way. I’m not like those mums in the café with their tongues practically hanging out as the ‘gorgeous lone wolf’ passes close by.
‘Great,’ says the man himself, nodding approvingly. ‘With an enthusiastic attitude like yours, Twilight, we’ll get you fit in no time.’
I give him a modest smile and keep my arms clamped to my sides. Big wet patches under the arms are not a good look. Neither is hair plastered to a glowing forehead. On the other hand, they do show how hard I’ve been working. Maybe I should be proud of my wet patches.
‘Next time, make sure you bring a bottle of water and sip it throughout your workout,’ says Theo. ‘Never wait until you’re thirsty because that’s a sign you’re already depriving your body of the fluid it needs.’ He’s quite stern when he’s in professional mode. I bet his female clients find it disturbingly sexy. It’s lucky I’m completely immune to his charms …
The mention of water makes me realise how thirsty I am. As soon as I get back, I’ll have a long, cool drink. As I glance in the direction of Honey Cottage, I’m already anticipating quenching my thirst and having a lovely shower …
‘Okay, let’s do some warm-ups before we run,’ Theo says, and I do a double take as he starts jogging on the spot.
I thought we were finished, but apparently we haven’t even started yet.
It turns out star jumps and something called ‘burpees’ are what’s next. The star jumps I can handle but these bloody burpees are torture, especially the bit at the end where you have to leap in the air. And he’s ordered me to do ten!
I’m beginning to think I’ve ended up with the raw end of the deal. Theo gets all the cake he can eat and I get … pure knackered.
*****
An hour later, we’re sitting on the deck of the treehouse, our backs to the wall, legs stretched out, quenching our thirst with glasses of home-made lemonade over ice. The first few sips that trickle down my parched throat, while the ice cubes clink in the glass, are as deliciously welcome as rain after a drought.
‘You did well.’ He grins across at me. ‘Considering you’ve never exercised.’
I smile modestly. ‘Thank you.’
There’s a brief silence then he says, ‘You know, it might sound obvious but eating well and exercising are great ways to keep stress at bay. I think you should continue with the running.’
I nod. ‘And stop eating so much cake and eat carrots instead.’
He smiles ruefully. ‘I’d never advocate that. You wouldn’t be able to stick to it. But the occasional carrot would work wonders.’
I sigh. ‘I know. You’re right. Perhaps I’ll give it a go.’ I close my eyes and turn my face up to the sun. Vitamin D from sunlight is another way to boost your health. And with all the stress in my life right now, I need all the help I can get.
‘This is a great place,’ murmurs Theo.
I open my eyes and glance at him as he gazes out over our garden and the café to the
