Chapter 5
She looked ready to choke again.
‘Don’t worry,’ he rushed to reassure her. ‘I am not trying to make a move on you.’
That only seemed to make her discomfort worse. She leaned heavily on her elbow and muttered, ‘I should have ordered wine.’
‘I’m simply telling the truth,’ he tried again. ‘We flirted.’
Her cheeks reminded him of Carthusian pink dianthus – the flower of boldness, which didn’t fit this situation at all. ‘I don’t know what came over me,’ she mumbled. ‘I don’t flirt – not usually.’
‘Neither do I,’ he replied, trying to be neither insulted nor flattered by her words, when both were clawing at him. ‘It was an unfortunate misunderstanding, but before you decide what to do, I just want to be honest with you.’
She wasn’t looking at him, but the way she stilled and her shoulders slowly dropped made him satisfied that he’d soothed her.
The feel of her skin under his fingertips remained – an imprint.
She was a widow – a mother – and he was…
well, certainly not the man for her. Recreating their safe friendship was the best option.
But he couldn’t deny that other options presented themselves when he looked at her.
‘Honest,’ she repeated with a grim nod. ‘I appreciate that.’
‘I shouldn’t have flirted with you. I am…’ He struggled to find the words to describe the mess of his personal life. ‘I am a determined single.’
‘Is that code for “divorced”?’
It was his turn to colour, but he knew he blushed more the red of the fruit of the strawberry trees that grew prolifically on this island. ‘That too. What made you think that? Perhaps I simply discovered I am not a person who thrives in a relationship.’
Her only reaction was a pointed look, which nevertheless communicated a world of doubt. ‘There’s only really one way to make that kind of discovery – a painful way.’
He could hear the hint of her own story in her voice. A widow.
‘And now you create lavish flower arrangements for weddings,’ she commented.
‘Yes, that happened by accident. I learned floristry as a hobby and then I had to step in for one of the I Do events at the last minute. That was the start of the business. Ironic, I suppose – I get divorced and suddenly have to prepare for wedding after wedding. But at least I don’t usually have to stay for the ceremony. ’
‘Not as ironic as Great Heart Adventures merging with I Do, but some things work out unexpectedly well.’
‘And you?’
She’d told him online about the uneasy merger – a marriage of convenience, she’d called it – that had seen the adventure guides swapping harnesses and technical trousers for suits and buttonholes, but knowing she’d been married changed how he interpreted her feelings about the merger.
‘What about me?’ she asked warily.
‘Weddings. How do you find them?’
‘Oh, I— Fine. I’m the only one from Great Heart Adventures who ever embarked upon that particular… adventure, so sometimes, the team from I Do needs me to translate wedding-talk for the guides.’
Her throat bobbed and although he didn’t know her well in person, she wasn’t hiding her thoughts well.
‘Sounds like a difficult job.’
The shrug was even less convincing. ‘Actually, this is the first wedding I’ve attended.’ Her fingers moved on her glass, rubbing at the condensation. ‘Usually, I stay behind the scenes in England. I’m a little nervous.’
‘Your first wedding with I Do?’
Her answer was so quiet, he might have missed it if there had been more patrons at the restaurant. ‘That too.’
‘Your first wedding since…’ Her own.
She nodded, the strain showing at her jaw, and he sat up in alarm.
‘How are you—?’
‘Fine,’ she insisted. ‘It’s been years. It’s fine. I need to do this.’
‘“It’s been years,” and “It’s fine,” don’t necessarily follow each other,’ he commented carefully.
She studied him and he glimpsed a depth of feeling he didn’t dare scrutinise for too long. ‘I’ll manage.’
He believed her.
‘Why didn’t you tell me – tell the female version of me – that you’d lost your husband?’ Perhaps the question was blunt and unfair, but it burned in him nonetheless. ‘Especially since you blurted it out to the stranger flirting with you at the ferry port.’
Her gaze ranged around the restaurant as she considered her answer. ‘I told you to put you off – so you’d realise my teasing was just meaningless flirting and I wasn’t trying out for a part in that romantic film.’ She considered him for a moment. ‘And it worked, didn’t it? Like a bucket of ice.’
An unwelcome prickle showered over his skin, as though she might see something he was trying to hide.
‘Meaningless flirting,’ he repeated with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face.
His intention with this meal was to make her feel comfortable again, but he wondered for a moment whether they’d ruined the friendship entirely with just a few moments of playful conversation.
‘May I serve the food?’
Gabri snapped his eyes open at the quiet question in Italian from the waiter. ‘Sì, sì, certo,’ he mumbled in reply.
‘Mi scusi. I was worried you two had just broken up.’
Gabri couldn’t help a chuckle as the waiter hurried to place their dishes in front of them.
‘What did he say?’ Toni asked.
Leaning over his calzone pizza, he explained in a low voice, ‘He thought this was a break-up talk. I think he was worried you were about to storm out.’
‘Oh God,’ she said with a laugh, ‘we’re giving off disaster vibes.’
Sharing the amusement created another bubble around them. He’d intended to reiterate his invitation to stay, but did he want her in his house with these vibes?
‘If we’ve already flirted and then broken up today, do you think we’ll ever get to the friendship?
’ The catch in her voice was impossible to miss.
‘I just wanted an uncomplicated holiday, away from all the people who pity me, no extra mouth to feed for a week. You know, I wasn’t even sure whether to come. ’
With a shrug that seemed more defeated than his impression of her from their online conversations, she lifted her fork to try her linguini. The small sigh she gave was gratifying. At least he’d provided a meal she enjoyed.
‘Okay, I don’t regret coming. This is delicious. Italian restaurants in England are good, but this is divine.’
‘You said you hadn’t been abroad on holiday for years,’ he remembered as he sliced open his calzone to release steam scented with smoked ham.
‘Since my son was born, we’ve only ever flown to see his grandparents in Vienna once. But they’ve both died and we haven’t been anywhere since.’
There was little inflection in her tone, but the words still lodged in his skin like a splinter.
He wasn’t sure he liked it, but this was Toni in front of him, the friend who’d patiently answered his rambling messages about wanting too much in life and losing sight of the simple things like fresh food and nature.
Now he fully understood her situation, his course of action was clear.
‘We’ll get to friendship, Toni,’ he assured her.
‘We started today with the wrong foot, but in truth, we’re in the same position.
There is attraction perhaps – I mean, from my side, I won’t deny it – but we are both clear there’s no place for romance, so why not friends? ’
Her eyes fluttered closed. ‘I really don’t think friends are supposed to admit to being attracted to each other.’ When her eyes blinked open again, they were bright and narrowed and full of spark.
‘I said I wanted to be honest. But if you’d prefer, I suppose I can pretend you are the man I thought you were.’
‘What did you picture for this week? Cans of beer and fishing?’
He grimaced. ‘You don’t like beer? I bought some crates.’
‘I like beer,’ she reassured him with a wry smile, scooping a clam out of its shell. He thought of her comment about the extra mouth to feed and had the urge to find her all the best food on the island. ‘But I’d pictured wine or spritz at a bar.’
‘I can do that.’
‘And paint your nails and do a facial while watching Gilmore Girls?’
He gave her a pained glance as he cut a slice of his calzone, but before he could manage a response, she laughed and shook her head.
‘I’m joking,’ she said, holding her hand out to show him her unmanicured nails. But his gaze snagged on her empty ring finger. How long had it been since her husband had held her hand? Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice his distraction.
‘I believe I told you in our chat that I like to fish,’ he pointed out.
He studied her face helplessly as she moved her linguine around on her plate.
He still struggled to accept that this was Toni.
He’d nattered about plants and told stupid jokes and shared odd moments with…
her. He wasn’t used to her yet, might never be.
‘Yes, but a woman fishing paints a rather different picture than a man fishing.’
‘Different how?’ he prompted her, leaning back and crossing his arms.
Her smile now was self-deprecating and utterly charming. ‘A woman would fish in a graceful, practical manner, whereas if a man does it, it’s a smelly, testosterone-fuelled competition, a proxy for measuring your—’
He saved her from finding an appropriate word by bursting into laughter. ‘That’s quite an opinion.’
‘I admit my prejudice and realise my assumptions are wrong,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why I was interested in going fishing with… female you, but not so much with a man.’
‘I will keep my testosterone to myself,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘It won’t rub off on you.’
‘You forget I work at an adventure travel agency. I’m familiar with testosterone. Perhaps that’s why I invented you as my female friend.’ Her scrunched-up nose showed him what she thought of that possibility.
He cleared his throat. ‘Might I remind you that you did not invent me?’
Her look was full of dismay – such a range of emotions he’d already witnessed on her face. ‘I don’t think I’d be capable of inventing you, but you know what I mean. Sophie probably referred to you as “he” several times and I just didn’t hear it.’
‘If it makes any difference, I am sorry to disappoint you.’
‘You’re not a disappointment,’ she contradicted him immediately, which only reminded him of the warmth of his online friend.
‘You know what I mean,’ he insisted as he took the last bite of his calzone. She had already set aside her fork.
‘Yes,’ she admitted, ‘but I still wouldn’t call you a disappointment. Today has been…’
‘What has it been?’ It was difficult to stop his thoughts drifting back to that spark of something between them. ‘Be honest with me.’
She bit her lip and glanced at him with the most endearing mix of amusement and confusion. ‘Challenging,’ she eventually decided on.
‘Do you… like a challenge?’ His throat was thick, but he hoped she didn’t think he was flirting again. He wasn’t – or only a little. Harmless.
‘Not usually,’ she replied flatly. ‘Not any more. But maybe I can try fishing.’ He recognised the last sentence as an attempt to lighten her words, discourage him from asking more. So he didn’t.
‘You don’t have to go fishing with me if you don’t want to. You don’t have to do anything with me – any activities—’ He swore under his breath.
‘Don’t have a heart attack, Gabri,’ she said drily, his name spoken in her voice bouncing a few times through his brain.
‘You promised to tell me all about the flora of the island and that I will hold you to. Anything else…’ Her blush was more gratifying than it should have been. ‘Gosh, now I’m doing it—’
He signalled to the waiter, hastily ordering a liqueur. Catching Toni’s eye, he asked, ‘Do you want a drink? Digestivo? Limoncino? Arancino?’
She blinked at his rush of words. ‘A drink? Perhaps that’s a good idea. Limoncino sounds good.’
When the waiter walked away, silence fell again, all the hours of man-woman-friends-flirting-whatever still hanging between them.
‘I was kidding about Gilmore Girls too,’ she finally said. He could only manage a grunt in reply. ‘As long as I don’t have to watch Minecraft gameplay or Star Wars cartoons, I’m happy with anything.’
She seemed to choke on her words and he imagined she realised she’d brought up her son again, although she’d obviously tried to keep him out of their… friendship. That suited Gabri. Kids were well outside his comfort zone.
Toni continued to speak, apparently not noticing he was barely replying. ‘I don’t really think there’s that much difference between what men and women like to do on holiday. I brought my sturdy shoes, didn’t I?’
‘Good,’ he replied curtly.
The waiter arrived and placed two stemmed schnapps glasses in front of them.
Toni looked uncertain and he wished he’d offered her a Campari Spritz instead, but lingering at this restaurant was becoming unbearable.
He needed to get back up to his house in the hills – with or without her; that was her choice.
‘Cin cin,’ he said, his voice gravelly as he lifted his glass, clinked it with hers and took a nip. The scent of herbs in the local myrtle liqueur, the sugar and alcohol gave him the kick he needed.
She did the same, wincing at the sour-sweet tang of her drink. ‘We’ve driven each other to drink and it’s only been a few hours,’ she quipped.
The joke caught him around the middle and squeezed. He tried to laugh, but the way she peered at him showed it hadn’t worked.
‘Bad joke,’ she muttered, staring into her glass.
With a deep sigh, she looked him square in the face.
‘So, what are we going to do?’ Her direct question reminded him of the friend on the other end of the chat; someone he’d sensed was as lonely as he was.
That history hung between them like a suspension bridge over the chasm of things that complicated their lives.
‘I made you an invitation and I’m not going to rescind it because of a misunderstanding.’
‘Are you sure it’s okay?’
‘Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?’ He felt a prick of guilt.
After impressing on her his need to be honest, that statement hid part of the truth.
Romantic involvement with someone was out of the question for him and she’d been just as clear on that, but he had a spark of a bad idea about kissing her anyway.
‘All right then. We stick to plan A,’ she said with a nod. ‘Friends, as though nothing is different from how we expected it.’
‘Friends,’ he repeated, holding up his glass one more time.
She managed a stronger smile as she tapped her drink against his. Bracing herself, she slid down the rest of her digestivo and set down the glass with an audible tap. ‘Thank you – for everything.’
‘I will do what I can to make you comfortable,’ he promised. He would say nothing more about attraction and sparks and loneliness. Although feeling them might be bad enough.