Chapter 17
Sticking her foot down, Nicola rested the bike against her and leaned her arms on the handlebars.
Why had she refused a lift to Little Mead?
If she hadn’t, she’d have been travelling in Charlie’s air-conditioned truck right now rather than huffing and puffing up the hill towards the farm.
She lifted her arm and sniffed, relieved that despite the summer heat, her antiperspirant was holding up.
Nicola looked ahead again. She didn’t have far. Well, not too far anyway, not for someone used to riding a bike or doing any exercise above walking to work or the village centre.
She took a deep breath in and began pedalling again.
There was one thing she might end up being grateful to Nathan for – and that was saying something – and that would be her getting fit.
Although she was still kicking herself for not accepting Charlie’s offer of a lift.
However much she liked the idea of cycling, even after her accident, the reality was very different.
Yes! As she cycled around the curve in the road, the farm came into view in all its beautiful glory. A place where she would be able to catch her breath, a place where she could rest her legs, a place where she’d be able to spend some time with Charlie.
Braking hard, she steadied herself. Nicola brought her hands up to her face and brushed her sticky hair back from her forehead.
She must look a right state. She felt as though she’d lost ten pints in sweat, the nagging pain of muscles being used for something they weren’t used to coursing through her limbs, and she was sure her make-up had all but slid off her face.
She couldn’t see Charlie like this.
Not that she cared.
She ran the pad of her finger across the grooves of the handlebar grips.
She didn’t care what he thought of her, and he didn’t care either.
She was just going to the farm to help him out and the only reason he’d asked her and not anyone else was because the only people she was aware of him really spending any time with from the village was herself and Miss Cooke, and he probably wouldn’t have fancied his chances of asking Miss Cooke for a favour after the way he’d spoken to her.
Yes, that was why she was here. Just because she was the only local person he could really ask. It wasn’t that he particularly wanted to see her again.
An image of his hand on hers and the way her skin had tingled when he’d pulled his hand away filled her mind. What if…?
Nope. Nope. Nope. Nicola shook her head.
Even if there had been something there, in that fleeting moment before Nathan had strode up to them, Charlie would be scared off by the interfering ex.
Everyone knew men didn’t like drama and Charlie would be no exception, whether the said drama had been caused by her or not.
Still, she would feel better if she gave herself a few moments to cool down.
And check her appearance. Leaning down at an uncomfortable angle, she eyed her reflection in the small circular pink plastic-backed mirror attached to the handlebar next to the pink tassels.
Grateful to her teenage self for customising her bike with such a useful accessory, she smoothed down her hair and patted her forehead dry of sweat with the edge of her T-shirt.
That would have to do. Even the best make-up artists with the best artistry skills and powder would struggle transforming her into the belle of the ball, so her slightly blushed cheeks and damp hairline would have to do.
She pushed off again, this time cycling the remaining metres at a slower pace so as not to arrive breathless with a face the colour of roasted beetroot.
Just as she turned onto the bumpy track before the farmyard, Charlie appeared, waving at her, and unlatched the gate, swinging it open to let her through.
Trying her best to smile back despite focusing on not disappearing down the various-sized potholes in the ground, she slowed to a stop and dismounted before pushing the bike through the gate.
‘Hi, thanks so much for this.’ He swung the heavy metal gate closed behind her.
‘No problem,’ she answered quickly between breaths, hoping he wouldn’t notice how unfit she was.
‘Shall we grab a drink before we begin?’ Charlie pointed towards the farmhouse to the right.
‘A drink sounds good.’ There was no denying she was parched but was he only suggesting a drink because she was so unfit and looked as though she might spontaneously combust?
She looked away, discreetly wiping fresh sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand before turning to face him again.
‘Maybe we should take a bit of time to plan out what you want from this video, too? Such as where we’ll go and what you want to tell me…
I mean, your future family about, things like that? ’
Charlie nodded, suddenly deep in thought. ‘At least one of us knows what we’re doing.’
Nicola laughed. ‘Oh, I’m not sure about that, but I did do something similar with Laura when I first started working at the inn, sort of a virtual tour of Pennycress to go on the website and social media sites.’
‘Like I said, one of us knows what they’re doing.’ He grimaced. ‘I’m not very good in front of a camera, or behind one for that matter, but I’ll give it my best shot.’
‘You’ll be great. I’m sure of it.’ Nicola began following him across to the farmhouse, the hens suddenly realising she’d arrived and hurrying out from wherever they’d been hiding to peck around their feet.
She watched as he glanced back at her before matching her pace.
She couldn’t imagine him not being very good in front of a camera.
He oozed confidence – or he had before. Now he did seem a little nervous, just like at the inn when he’d asked her to come over.