“Let me show you where it is,” Yannick offered. “Greg was just taking off.”
“I was?”
“You were. I think we’re done for the day.”
“But…”
“See you tomorrow,” Yannick smirked at his friend.
I knew a brush off when I heard one and I had to give credit where it was due, Greg didn’t argue too hard.
“Was great seeing you again, Bunny.”
I dared a look at Yannick, who was watching Greg walk off toward the man they’d been speaking to earlier. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets again, in his jean pockets, and I didn’t know which was better. Business or casual, he looked like a wet dream dressed up in both. If I wasn’t standing in a busy shop next to the man and with an audience, I would have fanned myself because he was seriously too sexy for his own good.
“He do everything you say?”
“Pfft. Not recently, no,” he laughed.
“But normally?”
“Yes. Now, you mentioned the food hall?”
“Ah, yeah. Something for dinner, thought I’d splash out for a change.” I laughed at my own lie. Splashing out, yeah, looking for the food hall, no.
Yannick raised his eyebrows at me, then grinned. “Harrod’s isn’t splashing out, Jolie. Let me take you to dinner, somewhere we’ll get our money’s worth and not pay forty quid for a pissy little piece of pate on toast.” I couldn’t help laughing yet covered my mouth to curtail the faux pas. Yannick took hold of my wrist to stop me. “I love your laugh. Don’t hide it, please.”
Four weeks he’d been missing from my life, and time had not dimmed the effect he had on me. He was still so easy to be around, to relax with, and I’d forgotten why I’d insisted he was a bad idea. In fact, right there, he was looking like the best idea I’d had in my entire life.
“Okay,” I conceded. “Lead the way. Fair warning, if you take me to the local chippy, I’m going to buy some of those pickled eggs rendering my mouth too awful to kiss.” Oh, where had confident Jolie popped up from? And kiss? Come on, just lay me out and strip me already, Yannick had this utterly insane effect on me I was powerless to ignore any time I was in his company.
“Nothing wrong with some fish and chips, but no, not today. I’d like to spoil you a little, if that’s okay?”
There was no harm getting food together, truth be told, I was eager to reconnect even if it led to nothing. “Fine. Just so you know, I don’t do fancy, it makes me uncomfortable, so choose wisely.”
“Well, then. We have something in common.”
I looked him over, arching a disbelieving brow, the expensive jeans and loafers telling a different story. “I somehow doubt that.”
“Gonna prove you so wrong, Jolie.”
He probably would, he had a glint in his eye that said I was way off the mark with my assessment. I figured this man was full of surprises and very much not what he looked like on the outside. I’d seen glimpses of it, he was an oxymoron of sorts, I guessed, probably taking a lot of pleasure in proving people wrong. The man was a timely reminder that what you saw on the surface was not the guts underneath and I’d do well to remember the Yannick Ischmov people whispered about was not the Yannick Ischmov he presented to me. Smoke and mirrors? He didn’t seem the sort, not really, but I’d been duped before, swept up in attraction and ignored everything else around me, so I proceeded with caution and let him take me for an early dinner.
I just hoped I wouldn’t regret it at a later date.
Yannick
In the month since I’d last seen Jolie, much had changed, and I wanted to spill all and sundry to her over our early dinner, even if she’d have no idea what I was talking about. There was a time and a place, I reminded myself, sharing a meal together was not the ideal moment. Having her company, craving it in fact, negated the need to spill everything in her lap, I didn’t want to get into the nitty gritty about how my life had done a one eighty. I was still a little fragile, having a night off from thinking morbid thoughts yet again, was the most appealing idea I’d heard in a month.
I took Jolie to a little hole in the wall burger bar which appeared shabby on the outside, yet wholly incredible once you passed over the threshold. I’d been eating there for years, we were all on a first name basis with the owners. Late Sunday afternoon was the old geezer’s son’s shift, which meant I’d get peace to eat with Jolie because Kristoff wasn’t nosy like his old man and didn’t natter my ears off. He could take a hint.
Jolie didn’t look the least bit offended - and bloody hell did I love that - as I ushered her through the tiny red door. “Fuck,” she groaned. “Smells amazing. The taste better be as good.”
“I assure you it’s better. You’ll love it here.”
“And there I thought you only graced five-star establishments with your presence,” she mocked.
“You wound me, Jolie,” I said, clasping a hand to my chest in mock disbelief. Jesus, I felt the years melting away, the stress dissolving, and I’d only been in her company for thirty minutes. Right there, I vowed there was no way Jolie fucking Summers was walking away or tossing me out of her life again.
Finding a table at the back, I slid into the bench seat beside her, getting as close as I dared without
