Chapter 8
The kiss had changed everything.
Or maybe it was because everything had already changed that Angus had given in to the astoundingly strong desire to kiss Tilly.
Whatever…
The kiss itself had been even more astonishing than how much he’d wanted it to happen. The softness of Tilly’s lips. The taste of her. The way she responded to him that somehow made it feel like an entire conversation had taken place – like telepathy but in physical form.
When had he ever experienced even a hint that a kiss could be that complex?
Not to mention intriguing. And so unexpectedly delicious.
Never, that’s when.
It had been a revelation and, yes, something was most definitely changing and maybe it was Angus himself. He clearly wasn’t the angry, disappointed, rejected man who’d walked off the plane, good grief, less than twenty-four hours ago.
And it felt good, dammit.
So good, he could almost believe that he was capable of becoming a person who was the opposite of boring.
A person who could make anywhere in the world feel like the most exciting place on earth for someone, even?
If he was ever going find out, this might be his only chance.
For just a few days – a length of time that had a very clear finishing point, which by default was a safety valve – he could experiment with following Tilly’s example and letting emotions flavour his decisions.
If he did what he wanted to do instead of what he thought he should do, he might learn something about himself that he’d never otherwise discover.
Kissing Tilly had definitely been what he wanted to do.
A spur-of-the-moment reaction to a feeling that was overwhelming enough to be stealing the oxygen from the air around him, and it was even more noticeable when they had closed the car doors and shut themselves away from the world in the cocoon of this small space.
Would it be preferable to put the roof down?
The ambient temperature was certainly warm enough.
No, Angus wasn’t quite ready for that. He needed to read the instructions before attempting something he’d never done before and maybe he wasn’t quite ready to do something that was…
what? A bit wild? Racing along a road – on the wrong side – with the distraction of the wind in his hair and a beautiful woman in the passenger seat?
He stole a peep at Tilly but she was looking at her phone.
He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again.
It would feel strange to say something that had nothing to do with what had just happened, but what if he did say something about the kiss and she told him to forget it because it was no big deal?
Being that impetuous was a huge deal for Angus. He’d never kissed a woman before a third date and he’d never ever kissed a woman quite like that. He didn’t want to find out that Tilly found it easy to dismiss. That, in her world, it might be a tad boring, even?
Music, Angus decided. That was what was needed to cover the silence. And what music could be more appropriate to play in this particular car than the origins of the soundtrack to the movie. He opened the streaming service on his phone and downloaded an entire Simon and Garfunkel album.
The universe had to be laughing at him with the haunting melody of the first song that came through the Bluetooth speaker cleverly hidden under the vintage dashboard.
‘The Sound of Silence’.
The music did more than cover any reluctance to open the can of worms that saying something about the kiss represented.
Along with his new familiarity with the Alfa Romeo’s gear changes and coordinating them to the rev counter and speedo, it meant he could relax and enjoy the performance of the car, which was a world away from his super-safe, stress-free Volvo with all its built-in advanced driver assistance.
He was sitting far lower now and he had direct steering, which gave him constant feedback from the road and felt like they were talking to each other through the steering wheel.
Curiously, it made Angus think, again, of what it had been like to kiss Tilly.
The unexpected frisson of delight it was delivering – both the driving and remembering the kiss – changed this ride from a matter of getting from A to B into something far more pleasurable.
An escape. A road trip. A summer holiday kind of adventure where the destination was not as important as the journey.
Something fun.
Something the emerging version of Angus McLeod might actually want to allow himself to embrace – just for a day or two – to see if it might stay this good. Or get even better?
He would exert some level of control, of course. He wasn’t about to leap into another hot-air balloon, for example.
Nobody in his normal life would know anything about it.
So what harm could it possibly do?
* * *
So they weren’t going to talk about it.
Tilly had to admit that was a relief. The last thing she wanted was for Angus to apologise and assure her that it had meant nothing.
She hadn’t updated Sophie on what might or might not be a significant development.
She wanted to indulge, for a little while, in a fantasy that it was.
That this buttoned-up, unhappy man might have suddenly, thanks to her, had an epiphany that could change his life.
He might even end up being less disparaging about romance.
He had, after all, asked her to show him the things that she thought he needed to see, and that extraordinary kiss couldn’t be seen as anything other than romantic.
It might be why Angus had been so quiet on the drive back to Aix, listening to music that Tilly didn’t recognise and which held a note of the kind of sadness a broken-hearted man might be feeling.
Had he been trying to find an explanation for what had happened at the stream that had nothing to do with romance?
Eh bien… Good luck with that!
Things felt more relaxed once they were out of the car and had sorted their first task by taking the merino sweater Angus had been wearing to the dry cleaners.
Tilly left her jeans there, as well, because it would take too long to go to her mother’s house and wait for them to be washed and dried.
The woman in charge declared that both Angus’s chinos and his suede shoes were beyond any restoration she could provide in a few hours, and Angus took up her offer to dispose of them.
Tilly had never needed to go into a high-end men’s shoe shop before but she knew where to find a boutique maison de chaussures down a side street that she thought would be ideal.
She spotted a variety of brown suede shoes as soon as they walked inside this very masculine space but, to her surprise, Angus shook his head.
‘Too boring,’ he murmured. ‘I would prefer something like…’ He slowly scanned the shelves. ‘…that.’
The shop attendant took over as Angus picked up a shoe, ready to measure his feet and find the right size for him to try on. Tilly perched on a buttoned leather chair and watched silently, until Angus had both shoes on his feet and walked towards her.
‘What do you think?’ he asked.
Tilly thought they were perfect. Tan leather sneakers, with elastic laces and a cream sole with a black stripe. The leather was slightly distressed, making them look like old favourites before they were even worn. They reminded Tilly of his holdall.
‘They suit you,’ she declared. ‘Are they comfortable?’
‘Yes. Very.’ Angus turned to the salesman with a decisive nod. ‘I’ll take them. Merci.’
If the shoe choice had surprised her, what happened in the men’s clothing boutique was next level. Angus dismissed the racks of chinos in favour of trying on jeans. He must have seen the astonishment on Tilly’s face as he chose a pair of straight-leg Levi’s in a faded original blue.
‘I’m on holiday,’ he told her.
But with his white shirt hanging loose, the collar unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up, he looked the most relaxed that Tilly had seen him, which also made him look infinitely more attractive.
His hair was still ruffled from the way he’d combed it with his fingers when he was so upset after being thrown into a pigsty but Tilly loved that he hadn’t tamed it again yet.
She was remembering that very first time she’d seen his image on her computer screen and thought he might be as close to perfect as a man could be.
That impression had been blown up on discovering that he was her polar opposite when it came to the sparkle that only romance could give to life.
But she now knew what it was like to kiss him and she had no doubts at all that, even with his distaste for romance, his lovemaking would be as good as it could ever get.
Perfect, even?
Tilly didn’t do casual sex. That was like getting into the fastest car ever to drive headlong into what was almost certain to be a dead-end road.
But, oh là là là là, the temptation to find out what it might be like was strong enough to make her tingle all over as those imaginary flames skittered beneath her skin. Tilly held her breath for a second to try and stifle them but Angus didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.
‘No one knows who I am here,’ he said, with a shrug. ‘What happens in Provence, stays in Provence. Oui?’
‘Tout à fait.’ Tilly’s agreement came out in no more than a whisper. ‘Absolutely.’
The look Angus was giving her sharpened in intensity, his focus on her and nothing else.
‘Say it in French,’ he said softly.
‘Why?’
‘Because I like hearing you say things in French.’ The tip of his tongue appeared, as though he was poised to lick his lips and Tilly had to swallow hard.
‘Ce qui se passe à Provence reste en Provence,’ she murmured.
The slow smile that began to curve his lips was interrupted by the sales assistant approaching and Tilly felt a sharp pang of disappointment, as if she’d just missed out on a coveted prize.