A British love at first sight

Chapter 18

I slept well.

I slept really well.

It was warm, cocooning, and relaxing. I stretch as I get up, my vertebrae cracking, feeling refreshed. While heading downstairs, I cross paths with Liam who's heading to work, and I wish him good luck, as a French, only to realize that it doesn't quite translate in English, as if he's heading off to fight on the Eastern Front. However, he bursts into laughter, in good spirits, much like me, as I explain that it's... a French thing. Margaret informs me she's going grocery shopping, and I seize the opportunity to ask her to wait for me. I want to accompany her; I've never been to an English supermarket before, and I'm curious. I dash back upstairs, quickly change in the bathroom, and then cross the hallway to enter Mackenzie's room to get dressed. In that split second as I pass the hallway, naked, my eye catches that someone was waiting for me to come out. I'm not sure if his still sleepy brain had the time to process what he might have seen: an ancient goddess in all her glory – naked, with a slim waist, ample bosom, the perfect curve of her legs, skin as fresh as an orchid's.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure he saw me.

I'm not embarrassed; I've moved on. The program: I head to the local supermarket, and then I swap Margaret for Mackenzie. We visit our jewelry artisan, and then it's free time. I will text or call Colleen and then drown my sorrows at the pub if Callum mentions anything about his morning encounter. But for now, my mission is to tease Margaret, as it's me who's paying for the groceries. She doesn't know it yet, but she shouldn't even think about leaving the store with the receipt in hand.

Mackenzie bursts into laughter as she sees her mother return in a foul mood, while I brandish the receipt high up, holding it like the World Cup. Margaret had no choice – not wanting to create a scene in her supermarket. However, when I arrived, pushing her aside to pay with my card in hand, she could only admit defeat and my superiority. But boy, did I get an earful in the car. I'm banned from the supermarket and all the stores. When I rest my head on her shoulder, telling her how much I love her, she thought I was mocking her, which put her in that state. In the kitchen, I help her put away the groceries – they're mine after all. And in the midst of the ballet between bags, fridge, and cupboard, I embrace her and plant a kiss on her cheek, thanking her for letting me do the shopping with her, just like when I was a child, with my mom.

It's undeniable.

Checkmate.

To top it off, I add a little more to establish my tactical superiority.

"I would have liked to pay for the groceries for my mom, simply because I know it would have made her happy. Just like I know she would have reacted the same way you did, Margaret – not wanting me to spend my money. But deep down, it would have made her happy, because she would have known that I wanted to show her that I'm making a living and that I can give back a little of what she gave me. It's just groceries, but it's more than that; it's affection, it's love."

And bam!

Margaret will never outsmart me. I've honed my skills for twenty years on my aunt Sylvie. She bows down and hugs me. And I'm caught off guard; I had forgotten how suffocating a mother's love can be. She might have dislocated my shoulder or broken my collarbone, but I'm not coming out of this unscathed. It hurts as I put on my coat. I can see that Callum wants to talk to me, almost bouncing in place like a child in a toy store, but he realizes he's not facing Camille, Mackenzie's French bestie anymore; he's facing the businesswoman.

Well, then again, he did come all the way here.

"We'll be back by late afternoon. Meet you at the pub for... tea time?"