Mrs Capel was charging across the road even before Chloe and Archer got out of the car. “Good thing no one was coming,” said Archer, looking both ways before they crossed.
On the other side of the road, Chloe and Archer pulled up short at the sight of two octogenarians locked in a passionate embrace. Cecily was tactfully looking at the ground, but Chloe couldn’t stop staring at the love scene playing out in front of her.
“Where did you go, my love?” said Mr Capel peppering his wife’s face with kisses.
“I got lost.”
He pulled her to him, his chin resting on her head. “Oh, darling, you mustn’t wander off like that. I was beside myself.”
“I’m so sorry, Richard.” He pulled back and tipped her chin so she was looking into his eyes.
“Now, now, no tears. You’re safe with me, now.” He leant down and kissed her. Chloe had to look away at that point; it was too much of an intrusion not to.
When they finally pulled apart, Mr Capel stepped forward and shook Archer’s hand. “Thank you, Alan. And you, love.” Chloe smiled shyly, unwilling to take any credit for Mrs Capel’s return, but also not wanting to downplay his concern.
“Honestly,” said Archer, “it was no trouble at all. We were happy to help. She was quite safe at The Lord Nelson.”
“Indeed, but it is her journey there that troubles me … the way people drive on these roads.” There was a sombre pause and Chloe assumed they were all thinking the worst, just like she was.
“Right,” said Cecily, her tone brightening the moment. “Would anyone care for some mulled wine?”
Everyone seemed to welcome the distraction and as the couple followed Cecily back into the fair, Mrs Capel clung to her husband’s hand and rested her cheek against his shoulder.
“Wow,” said Chloe, almost to herself. I want a love like that. The thought arrived with a jolt. Chloe was essentially a card-carrying pragmatist when it came to love, never once longing for it and always assuming that it would come along, or it wouldn’t.
“Now you know what I was talking about,” said a quiet voice in her ear. She nodded slowly, only able to tear her gaze away from their retreating backs when they were absorbed by the crowd. When she turned to look up at Archer, he was watching her intently. “You caught me,” he whispered.
“You were watching me.”
“I was.” In the moment of stillness that followed, Chloe’s breath caught. Then Archer blinked, seeming to remember himself, and the moment dissipated. “I should move the Range Rover.”
“Oh, right.” Another moment. “I’ll come with you.” If she’d thought logically, even for a second, she would have realised how ridiculous and—worse—obvious her offer was. Cecily’s garage was literally around the corner but for some reason, Chloe felt compelled to stay with Archer.
The situation was made all the more ridiculous because almost as soon as she got into the car, she had to get back out again while Archer tucked it into the tight space of the carport. She waited on the gravel, her heart and her mind racing.
It was one thing to have a crush on a gorgeous celebrity, but in the short time she’d known him, Archer had revealed himself as so much more.
“Shall we get back to the fair?” she heard herself say as he climbed out of the car. He didn’t answer, instead striding towards her and stopping only a foot away. His eyes searched hers, almost as if he were asking if she felt it too. She had no idea who moved first, but as his head dipped towards hers, her arms reached up around his neck and she felt the firmness of his hands on the small of her back. Then his mouth was on hers in a kiss so fervent, so all consuming, that her mind started shouting, This is the best kiss of your life!
Chapter 13
Jules
“Oh, my god. Seriously, that is good.”
“I told ya. They do the best coffee here. Chloe and I joke about getting a drone so we can call in our order, then fly the drone down to pick up our coffees.”
Jules laughed. “It’s not even a two-minute walk.”
“Yeah, but sometimes you want to have your coffee and lounge about in your PJs.”
“That’s fair.”
They were at Cargo, a restaurant shaped like a boat that jutted out over the water, with both port and starboard made up of wide floor-to-ceiling windows. Ash had taken the seat that looked back at the kitchen so Jules could have the view.
Jules took another sip—a flat white, it was called. Who knew such a thing even existed? In Boulder it was all “caramel mocha lattes with whipped and a pump of vanilla”. You couldn’t even taste the coffee. This was a whole new level—the best coffee she’d ever had. “You do realise that you’ve ruined me for life, right? With the coffee and the view.”
“The view yes—it’s Docklands. I love it. But the coffee? Come on. You’ve travelled. Didn’t you go to Italy a few years back with Chloe and Lucy?”
“Yeah, and the coffee was good. I mean, hello, Italy. But I stuck to espressos and they’re crazy strong—like, stand-your-spoon-up-in-it strong. Anyway, I’ve always thought of coffee as just a caffeine-delivery device. I’ve never thought of it as … as this.”
“Yeah, well, if I’m spending a thousand dollars a year on something, it’s gonna be good.”
“A thousand …? Oh, yeah, I guess that’s right. Four bucks a day.”
“Yep.”
Jules savoured the coffee and took in the view. In the middle of the harbour was a long pier with what looked like converted warehouses—bars and function venues, by the look of them. Across the water on the other side of the harbour were more buildings—a mix of businesses and residences, and each distinct. Some were mostly glass tinted in blue or brown, and one building had brightly coloured accents as though a child had decorated it.
