Chapter Twenty-Six #2
As if he can sense my reaction, Gus squeezes my arm closer towards his body, towing me along to the table where I scan ahead to see quite how badly our evening is about to be ruined.
Except we’re shown to a table of four where an old couple are seated already.
The moment they realise we’re joining them they’re straight on their feet to greet us.
“Ah, you’re the pair from the first night,” the lady says and suddenly I remember her. She thought we were a couple, right? Back when I thought Gus was a rude arsehole.
She’s pinned her silver hair back into a tidy bun, her face crinkling when she smiles. She hauls me away from Gus, who finally releases me, and hugs me before I can so much as take a breath.
“It’s lovely to see you again,” I say. Then again, how drunk was I the last time we met? Maybe I should be mortified.
Gus shakes the hand of the old man, who then reaches across the table to shake mine too, except he brings my hand to his mouth and kisses my fingers. It’s wholesome.
Would be creepy if he wasn’t an old man.
We finally sit as the waiter takes our drinks order.
“I’m Edith,” the lady tells me. “And my husband is Paul.”
“I’m Sara,” I say.
“And your husband?” she asks, smiling. Does she not…
? I press my lips together but let it lie since it might be embarrassing to remind her.
Besides, Gus doesn’t fill the gap for me, just tilts his head and smiles for me to continue.
He can tell I’m too socially awkward to make her feel bad. So, I say, “That’s Gus.”
“Sara and Gus,” Paul says. “And what a gorgeous couple you are.”
“Thank you,” Gus replies. Because of course he does. He reaches over the table and slides his fingers with mine. It’s familiar in a way that spreads from my palm to my core, heating me throughout, especially when one fingertip strokes the sensitive part between my ring and middle finger.
I roll my shoulders back. I’m in so much trouble.
“Where are you two from?” Paul asks.
Gus sucks his bottom lip in, eyeing me. I feel like this is peak entertainment for him. I’ll let him have his fun. “The Cotswolds,” he explains. “Near Tetbury.”
“A lovely part of the world,” Edith says.
“What about you?”
“Surrey,” she says. “Do you know of Godstone?”
Gus nods politely. “I’ve definitely heard of it.”
“We’ve lived there for fifty years,” she says. “Wouldn’t change a thing.”
Paul hums in agreement as our drinks are delivered. “What is it you two do?” he asks us.
This time I answer before Gus, his lips parted in readiness. “I work in business. And Gus is in a band.”
“Oh, how interesting. What kind of business?”
“It’s corporate. We help companies negotiate high-risk procurements.”
“Fascinating,” he says, before turning to Gus. “And you dabble in music?”
I nearly choke on my first sip of wine at the way Paul brushes Gus’s band off as a hobby. Gus handles it exactly as I knew he would. “I absolutely dabble.”
“And what about you two?” I ask to keep the conversation moving.
Look at me, being friendly, socialising with strangers. Must be whatever I’ve caught from Popstar these past few days.
Edith and Paul spend the next twenty minutes walking us through their entire career history.
The depression only starts to wade in when I realise that they got incredibly lucky with the property market, buying young and building equity.
Paul was a postman for thirty years and Edith only worked a year before becoming a full-time mother.
I suppose they can’t be blamed for their own luck.
“When did you marry?” Paul asks.
Gus looks at me as he says, “Actually, this is our honeymoon.”
Edith gasps. “Well, no wonder you both look so loved up. What made you pick this cruise?”
“We’ve been craving adventure,” he says, and it isn’t a lie.
“I can tell you two are going to be married for a long, long time. You’re so handsome,” she says, reaching out and patting Gus’s hand.
“Now, now, Edith, you’re going to get me in trouble with your husband.”
Paul laughs. “She’ll do and say what she likes either way.”
“And you’re beautiful,” she says to me, squeezing my hand. “You’ll have the most stunning babies.”
I choke on red wine.
I give Edith a look. “I don’t know if we’re ready to talk children.”
In fact, I laugh because she has no idea how far away we are from talking about children. Contraception, maybe.
Old people really don’t give a fuck, do they?
We chat all the way through the five-course meal and sometime around the main, I slide one shoe off and reach between us until I find Gus’s leg. His breath catches when he feels my toes on his shin.
I leave it there throughout the course and when desert arrives, I let my leg drift higher all the way up to his knee. At this point he turns to me slowly, his stare a challenge, his eyes darkening as I press my toes into his thigh.
When the meal is over, a band starts up on the deck outside and many parties, including Edith and Paul, are quick to rise from their seats and head out to dance but we remain seated, gazes locked.
“You’re being very mean to me,” he mutters.
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“It is, yeah. But I like it. I think it suits me.”
“Me being mean to you, suits you.”
“Dangerously so.” He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, his stare unwavering. “I think you know why I’m still sitting.”
Yes. I do. “Would you like me to remove my foot?”
“No.”
“Would you like me to move it higher?”
“Yes.”
“Really? In here?”
He smirks looking around. Most people have left the room now, the music louder as they clear tables. “I think we’d better go and dance, don’t you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I am not a dancer.”
Gus stands, gently placing my foot down, before repositioning himself discreetly and offering me his hand. “Sara, please do me the honour.”
“Ugh.”
He chuckles. “Exactly the reaction every man wants when he asks a woman to dance. Shall I word it differently?” He leans down closer so that he can speak quietly.
“Sara, sunshine, you’ve given me a raging boner and now I’m going to have to hold you very close to cover it up while I sway you around the deck. ”
“The what?”
“The dick.”
“That’s what I heard.” I fake a sigh, placing my hand in his. “Fine, I’ll dance with you. But only because you’re desperate.”