Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Raine patted my hand and popped a chip into his mouth. “We can’t have that. Salisbury Cathedral is gorgeous. Did you know the Magna Carta is there?”
I listened with half an ear as he chattered on about important historical figures and events in Salisbury, and the old lady who’d dared to eat a homemade tuna sandwich on the train. It didn’t take long for me to forget my angst. It was easy to do with Raine. He made me laugh and gave me a reason to stay in the moment. Nothing important was happening outside this pub. My worries would be right where I left them in the morning, so why not just enjoy?
We ordered soup and burgers, and another round, and spent the next hour or so discussing a medley of topics ranging from rugby rules, Jane Austen’s best novels, and who discovered popcorn. I know…ridiculous. This was how conversations with Raine evolved. Or devolved. One second we were discussing architecture and literature, the next…popcorn.
“Corn is many thousands of years old. The first instance of popped corn probably occurred in Mayan times,” I stated, pushing my glass aside.
“Documented popcorn. I know the answer to this one. Chicago in the late 1800s. Charles Cretors had a mobile popcorn cart and used to walk the streets selling his goods. Pretty cool, huh?” Raine beamed. “Google it if you don’t believe me.”
“I believe you. No one would pretend to know such a thing without reason,” I conceded. “Yet again, you’ve proved yourself to be the king of Google.”
“Thank you. I deserve that crown.” He mimed setting a crown on his head, then snapped his fingers. “Speaking of corn…let’s go to Cornwall. Let’s see this place. It’s in my contract, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Come with me.”
I lifted a brow. “To Cornwall.”
“Yes, Cornwall. It’s my last real piece of business for the Deverley report.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” I asked in amusement.
“Yes, and I’ve been saving it because…well, whatever.” He licked his lips as if suddenly nervous and shrugged. “Why stew about this in your office when you can take that angst to the great outdoors? C’mon, I mapped out the route. We can take a train from London to Exeter and—”
“No bleedin’ way.” I unrolled my sleeves and buttoned the cuffs. Slipping my jacket on, I cast a glance out the pub window at the street where twilight shimmered with the reflection of red taillights. The weather seemed to have calmed down a bit, thank God. “You can’t go by train anyway. You’ll need a car to really see anything.”
“Hmm. I read that too. Fine. We can rent a car.”
“I’m not going to Cornwall.”
“Okay, I’ll go on my own and rent a car. I don’t know how to drive on the wrong side of the road, but it can’t be too hard to learn.” He stepped under the awning and unfurled his undersized Union Jack umbrella. “Admit it. This is pretty cool.”
I rolled my eyes. “Very cool. I’ll call Collins to—”
“No, let’s walk. Your house isn’t that far from here, and the walk will give me time to convince you to take a day or two away from your desk.”
“Ray-n…”
“When was the last time you took a break?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Five years…give or take.”
“Where did you go? I bet it was nowhere near as cool as Cornwall.”
“The Maldives.”
“Oh, okay, that’s pretty cool, but c’mon…Cornwall, baby.”
I chuckled, allowing myself to be pulled along Mill Street, my borrowed black umbrella brushing against Raine’s Union Jack one.
Maybe it was the alcohol or the chill in the spring evening. Maybe it was the feel of a handsome man’s arm on mine, the rhythm of his voice, the constant buzz of awareness between us. I was drunk on him. He was a drug, and I couldn’t get enough.
We had to shake this thing out of our systems. It wasn’t healthy to want someone like this. It was distracting and disrupting. I should have been thinking about how to crush Gil Blower, but dishing out karma was the last thing on my mind.
No…I was thinking about Cornwall.
13
RAINE
“Oh, hinny. I’ve been worried about you in the wild Ireland moors! Have you forgotten about me already?”
“Never, Winnie.” I smiled fondly, waving an absent greeting to my flatmate on my way to my bedroom. “For the record, I’m in England, not Ireland. Catch me up. How’ve you been?”
“Fabulous, but in a nondescript way. Nothing exciting to report on my end. Jace and Bjorn broke up again, my sister asked me if her husband’s big client gave mafia vibes.” He scoffed. “Ya think? And Max got a new tattoo—a phoenix. Don’t tell him I said so, but it looks more like a sparrow than any kind of badass bird. As for me…the salon has been busy with proms and weddings.”
I pushed a pillow behind my back and leaned against the wall, settling in for a chin-wag as my new British buddies would say. And yes, I had British friends now.