The Holiday Buddies (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 35

Sienna

Joe - or Pool Hotty, or J.P. Quinn, you choose, they're all one and the same - picks up the pint with one hand and takes a sip. As I step forward, his eyes remain on his book but the corners of his lips are gradually curving upwards, and I know he knows I'm there.

My heart slams in my chest.

"Can I sit here?" I ask, doing my best to imitate our original meet-cute.

He puts the book and pint down and raises his head, looking up at me over those sexy wire-rimmed glasses. His bright eyes are sparkling, crinkling adorably at the corners in that way they do.

"I'm going to say what I should have said then, rather than 'if you must'," he begins, grimacing at the memory of his own words before pausing and gathering himself.

He continues: "I'd love that. I've not been able to stop thinking about you since I first saw you on that bus, and I'm desperate to get to know you better. I'm just not ready to admit that to myself yet."

I can't help but smile at that as I drop into the chair opposite him. "In retrospect, maybe your original response was better. The alternative probably would have been a tad too intense for me and scared me off."

"Agreed." He laughs. "Plus I'm trying to get the conditions as close to our first meeting as possible. Let's see . . ." He screws up his face in thought. "It's Scotland rather than Greece but we've got the sunshine - for a change. It's not a pool bar, but it's a beer garden so it's pretty close. I'm fairly sure you're wearing the same dress but that's just a happy coincidence." He adjusts his glasses higher on his nose, grinning ruefully. "But I'm not even wearing the same specs because I broke my other pair when I was drunk."

"How on earth did you manage to do that?" I ask, giggling.

Joe shrugs, a shadow briefly passing over those chiselled features. "For some reason last Wednesday evening I was feeling really lost, and lonely, and I ended up drinking a bit too much wine and whisky. I left my glasses on the couch and and sat on them. Wish that was a more interesting story but there you have it."

I stare at him, the expression on his face and his words absorbing into my brain as I realise, finally, that this really isn't one-sided. That he's been as miserable as I have at the thought of us not being together. He's just been better at putting a happy face on it.

"So . . . Why are we here?" I ask finally. I pick up the wine and take a sip. Oh goodness, that's refreshing.

"Kate told me chenin is your favourite," Joe sidebars. He pauses again, takes a deep breath, rubbing awkwardly at the scruff already darkening his chin again. "Like I already said, I'm not quite able to make all the conditions work to recreate our first meeting exactly, so forgive me if this doesn't make sense at first . . . But here goes."

It suddenly occurs to me that this isn't Dream Scenario A or B . . . But some sort of scenario is about to unfold and it's going to be a good one. Joe Quinn is about to make a romantic gesture. My insides twist in delight and anticipation at this thought.

He picks up the book he was reading, opens it to the inside back cover and passes it over to me. There is what appears to be a handwritten list scrawled on the blank page at the back, which reminds me of the list we compiled when we agreed to be holiday buddies in the first place.

"For a published author you're terrible for vandalising books," I tut, focusing in on the words. "And you really need to work on your handwriting."

"Just read it," he sighs, pocketing his glasses and running a hand through that messy quiff I love so much. "Well, if it's legible enough."