his buggy. I smile at Tom and he smiles back, looking more assured now.
‘I’m ready when you are,’ he says, staring straight into my eyes as if he’s trying to tell me something more. Pondering on the innuendo, I open my mouth to respond, but an ear-splitting clap of thunder beats me to it and rain lashes down upon us. We fling ourselves inside the buggy and Tom speeds off, yanking the plastic weather shields down around us.
‘That was close – you’re not too wet, are you?’ he asks, turning his drenched face towards mine. Blimey, if only he knew. His shirt is clinging to his hard body, making him look even more spectacular. But before I can answer, the buggy hits a rock on the pathway and throws us sideways. Tom quickly leans into me, deftly manoeuvring the steering wheel to keep us from toppling over. ‘Oops, I’m so sorry, I didn’t hurt you, did I?’
‘No, I’m fine,’ I tell him, but I can feel something poking into my thigh. I look down. It’s a striped notebook.
‘Oh, it must have fallen out of my pocket,’ he says, tentatively. I hand it to him. ‘Thanks, it … helps me to relax,’ he explains.
‘What is it?’ I ask without thinking, and my cheeks blush. ‘I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to pry,’ I add, quickly.
‘Just a few sketches,’ he says, glancing away.
‘Sketches? As in drawing?’ I say, before mentally kicking myself for stating the obvious and sounding like an utter plum.
‘Yes,’ he laughs, looking more relaxed now, ‘as in drawing.’
‘Cool,’ I say, thinking what a sexy hobby, and what a dark horse he is. ‘Do you mind if I take a look?’ I ask, holding the notebook up.
‘OK … but don’t tell anyone, it can be our secret,’ he jokes, and then grins at me. His shoulders are relaxed and he looks different somehow – younger, and less ‘work like’.
‘I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.’ I give him an exaggerated wink before pulling a very serious face. He shakes his head with laughter.
‘You’re so funny,’ he says. I frown. ‘In a lovely way,’ he quickly adds, making my tummy flip over and over. I flick through the pages. They’re filled with pencil line drawings of animals and various European city landmarks. I pause on a magnificent one of a Venice waterway.
‘Wow, these are really good.’ I turn to look at him. He looks uncertain, his eyes seeking out my approval almost, and seeing this side of him feels so nice, as though I’ve been let in on a secret. My tummy performs a big somersault. Our eyes lock, the rain beats against the buggy, making the moment feel really intimate. But then I remember James, and Maxine, and that I need to keep my wits about me. I quickly pull myself back to reality.
‘Thank you,’ Tom says, and carries on driving.
*
We make it to the karaoke bar and Melissa comes dashing towards us.
‘Where have you two been?’ she shouts over the music, looking at me with a smirk on her face, and then at Tom.
‘Playing crazy golf,’ I yell defensively and far too quickly, as I scan the bar looking to see if Eddie is here.
‘Well, you’re just in time, get your laughing gear around these.’ She hands us each a shot glass full of fluorescent green liquid. ‘When Bonnie Tyler up there has finished banging on about needing a hero, there’s a treat for Ciaran.’ She rolls her eyes towards the little stage at the end of the room where Suzanne is revving up for the last chorus – she’s got a pink crystal-encrusted microphone in one hand and a large cocktail with about three paper umbrellas, a plastic giraffe and a bunch of cherries on the side of the massive glass in the other. She sniggers.
‘What are you up to?’ I ask.
‘Oh, you’ll see, but it probably won’t be your thing. Although you never know, depends which way you sway,’ she winks, and a smutty leer spreads across her now drunken face. ‘Jesus, I can’t wait.’ I let out a groan. ‘Any minute now,’ she finishes just as one of the security blokes bombs over.
The guys are all nudging each other, and Ciaran, having realised they’re up to something, is looking panicky. The music stops and the guys from Menswear and Home Electricals start clapping and cheering.
‘No waaay,’ Ciaran shouts, ‘you bastards. I said no dodgy stuff.’ He leaps up. But before he can protest further, stripper music is playing and two girls dressed in hot pink Burlesque basques, with choppy fringes and cherry-red lips, appear in a puff of marabou and ostrich feathers. They dance through the crowd, teasing the boys as they peel off their long gloves.
After flinging off their basques, the girls start jigging up and down on the backs of their heels, making their matching hot pink nipple tassels whizz around in circles. I watch, fascinated at how they manage it, and secretly wondering whether with a bit of practice I could perform the same trick, when Eddie appears by my side.
‘Pour. It’s time to make mama look pretty,’ he gasps in a phoney hillbilly accent, clutching a hand to his chest while simultaneously shoving a glass down and gesturing to a nearby bottle. ‘On second thoughts, cut out the middle man.’ He rolls his eyes to accentuate his foul mood, grabs the bottle and, after jamming it into his mouth, he tips it up and takes an enormous glug. ‘Ahh, that’s better,’ he says, slamming the bottle back down on the table and grabbing the shot glass from my hand and necking that too.
‘Well, I think they’re fantastic. And I’d kill to have a body like that, and look at the power they have over all the slobbering blokes,’ I say, waving a hand around the room.
The girls have finished their routine now and are weaving back through the guys who are waving notes in the air. One of the girls catches my eye and gives me a friendly wink before stuffing a tenner inside her garter.
‘Well, I’m bored,’ Eddie huffs. ‘I’ll make my own fun,’ he continues, before heading off to the door at the far end of the room. I chase after him, desperate to find out what has got into him.
‘Eddie, come on, tell me what’s wro—’ I stop mid-sentence and almost run into Eddie’s back as he halts in the doorway that leads out onto a little wooden balcony area overlooking the sea. Tom is sitting on a bench, with just the moonlight to see by as he taps into his iPhone. Eddie swiftly turns around.
‘Oops! Three’s a crowd,’ he snorts, before barging back past me, giving me a little shove out and slamming the door behind him.
‘Sorry about that, don’t know what his problem is,’ I say, feeling put on the spot.
‘Well, he has a point,’ Tom replies, his messy hair making him look all windswept and utterly gorgeous, and I’m sure I detect a hint of flirtatiousness in his voice – or maybe it’s just wishful thinking. ‘Why don’t you take a seat and keep me company for a bit?’ He gestures to the space next to him.
‘What are you doing out here?’ I ask as the crisp night air hits my face. I perch alongside him.
‘Hiding,’ he replies, furtively. He turns to face me and his eyes shoot from side to side and I can’t help gawping openly at him. He manages to look both petrified and damn sexy all at the same time. My guard falls away as I listen to the waves below us and glance at the twinkling shoreline
