Chapter Five #2
If Imogen had been about to get all in her head about how to appropriately greet Amy when she reached her—which was exactly what would have happened—Amy didn’t give her that chance.
She pulled Imogen straight in for a hug, and Imogen couldn’t have been happier that she had taken control, because a hug was the absolute best way to start their time together.
It wasn’t a flimsy hug either. Amy wrapped her arms firmly around Imogen and held her like she meant it, making it easy for Imogen to do the same in return.
They fit together really well, Imogen noted.
Any two people could hug, but it wasn’t so common for someone to feel like they truly belonged there, woven and entwined in your body.
Like an extra limb you hadn’t known you were missing, but the empty space became obvious the second it was gone again.
“Hey.” Amy was beaming when they pulled apart, and good Lord, her smile really was the best sight. “Wow, look at you. You look like the best tour guide I’ve ever had.”
And just like that, Imogen relaxed. All that panic for nothing. The second Amy smiled at her and said hello, everything felt easy again. “Thanks. But I thought you said I wasn’t your tour guide,” she said playfully.
Amy threaded her arm through Imogen’s, and in unspoken agreement, they started to stroll slowly along the path together. “Oh, you’re right, I did say that.” She proceeded to look thoughtful. “What word did I use again?”
“I think you went with friend.” Imogen was fishing, and she knew it.
“Ah yes. How boring.”
Imogen gave her a sideways look. “Boring? You think being friends with me would be boring?”
“Generally, no.” Amy grinned and nudged into her gently. “But I think, for me, having you as only a friend sounds relatively boring. Especially when you show up to meet me looking like that.”
“Like what?”
Amy’s gaze dragged over her slowly. “Like that. All adventurey and appealing.”
“Oh, I see.” Imogen tried to remain serious even though she was dying to smile. Dying to. Amy was openly flirting with her, and it was everything. “So, what did you have in mind if being my friend is out of the question?”
Amy tilted her head. “Dare I use the word date? Or is that too presumptuous?”
There it was. The confirmation that Imogen had been waiting for—hoping for. She made an attempt to play it cool. “I mean, I suppose it’s more flattering than tour guide.”
Amy laughed. “Well, I do like to flatter. Especially women I’ve been thinking about for days.”
“Stop that. You have not thought about me for days.” This woman was too good to be true.
“Only I have. And now it’s out there in the open and I can breathe easier. Now, which way are we going?”
Imogen studied Amy’s attire. Black leggings and a light pink, black, and white fitted fleece.
The outfit looked adorably outdoorsy, and particularly fantastic on Amy.
The white running shoes, however, might not be quite so white by the end of their date.
That’s right, date. “I’d planned a bit of a hike. Are you up for it?”
“Absolutely.” Amy followed Imogen’s gaze down to her feet. “Are these no good? They’re the comfiest shoes I have over here with me. I can walk for miles in them.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine, but they might get a bit dirty.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I like the idea of getting dirty with you.” Amy shot her a devious grin and Imogen’s heart just about stopped. This blatant flirting was unexpected, in the very best way. “What?” Amy then asked innocently.
“You’re trouble and you know it, that’s what,” Imogen said, and Amy laughed again because she clearly did know.
Imogen squeezed her arm which was still interlocked with hers and guided her in the direction of their walk.
“Come on, trouble. This way.” She led them to a narrow lane just off the main road and she walked ahead to swing open the gate for them.
“Are we allowed in here?” Amy asked as she walked through it regardless.
“Yeah, some of the land belongs to folk from around here, but they’re fine with people using their lanes to get around.
The gates are there to keep animals in rather than to keep people out.
” Imogen adjusted the bag straps on her shoulders and fell into step beside Amy once she pulled the gate shut behind them.
Their footsteps crunched along the stony path.
“The main roads don’t go where I’m taking you. ”
“That sounds both intriguing and a touch unnerving at the same time.”
“Unnerving?”
“Well, if you’re a serial killer, then I’m blindly following you to what sounds like the perfect spot for you to kill me. Far away from civilisation.”
“Yet you don’t look too worried about it.”
Amy shrugged. “If you are a serial killer, you seem like a nice one. You might spare me.”
“Or how else would I lure you in?” Imogen said straight-faced. Amy blankly stared at her until Imogen broke and started to laugh. “Relax. The killing life isn’t for me. I’m not a big fan of blood for one thing.”
“Ah. That would put a wrench in the works I’d imagine,” Amy said. “In that case, I’m very excited to see where you have planned for me.”
Imogen led them along the path that cut through some of the fields.
Watching Amy light up over every animal they passed did ridiculous things to Imogen.
When they reached one of the fields that had horses, Imogen stopped and opened up her bag.
“When I walk this way, I usually feed them. The owner told me that they go mad for apples.” She pulled out three, one for each horse. “Do you want to do the honours?”
“Do I want to feed the horses? Is that even a real question?” Amy held her hands out. “Pass me the apples.”
Imogen smiled and handed them over. Maybe this was what first dates were really about—finding out if the little things lined up. So far, so good.
“So, how did you get to Ballyluck today?” Imogen asked when they started walking again, after she spent five minutes enraptured by Amy’s joyous expression while she fed and petted the three very appreciative horses. “It’s a bit of a trek from where you work. Or are you staying nearby?”
“Oh no, our hotel’s not far from the set. The Emerald Grand?”
Imogen let out a low whistle. “Fancy.”
Amy chuckled. “Yeah, it’s nice. The studio also has cars that the crew can use to get around if they need to. Or sometimes they hire cabs for us if the cars aren’t available.”
“For the whole crew? That’s good of them.”
“Well, some of the crew are local, so they have their own transportation.” Amy lifted a shoulder. “It depends. Obviously, us Americans didn’t come bearing cars. Do you drive?”
Imogen nodded. “I have a car, but I barely use it. I hated driving around Belfast because of the traffic so I walked most places, and now I hate driving here because I enjoy looking around me too much.”
“I can understand that,” Amy said, gazing out at the expanse of green around them, framed by trees in the process of losing their leaves, blotted with only the odd barn or farmhouse in the distance.
Imogen thought she heard something behind them and turned around to see what it was, but there didn’t seem to be anything there—probably one of the animals. It wasn’t the busiest of trails, though Imogen had run into one or two people along the way before.
“It is peaceful,” Amy said as they continued to walk along. “I can see the appeal of leaving the city to come here. I can’t imagine it’s an easy place to meet people though.”
“I don’t know. Sometimes pretty Americans come into my bar.”
“They do? Tell me more about these pretty Americans. Do they come in packs or one at a time?”
“Um. I didn’t know you’d have follow-up questions and now might be a good time to tell you that sometimes I exaggerate.”
“You? Pourer of Ireland’s best Guinness? No way.” Amy grinned. “What’s the exaggeration this time? The prettiness of these Americans, or the volume of them?”
“Definitely the volume. If anything, the prettiness was understated.” Imogen wasn’t sure where she got her bravery from to come right out and say things like that, but everything felt easy with Amy.
Imogen didn’t overthink or second-guess herself, she just went with the moment.
And it felt good. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten how to date after all.
“Bartenders can be such charmers,” Amy said breezily. “I’ve heard about your sort. Got you sussed.”
“Except I’m only new to the job—basically a baby bartender. What if I told you I actually hail from insurance?”
“Then I would say that the charm is much more of a surprise. I’m not sure that I’ve ever met any charming insurers before.”
Imogen held her hands out to the sides. “Now you have. Believe me, it’s a surprise to both of us.”
Amy chuckled. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. Maybe it’s something to do with that being very very single thing that we talked about before.”
“Ah. You did warn me that you would come back to that.”
“And I will. But not yet. I plan to warm you up with lots of other questions first. That way you’ll be so exhausted from answering me that you’ll give up the information without a fight if only to shut me up.”
Imogen regarded her. “That’s either brilliant or conniving. I’m going with both.”
“You’re probably right. But me being transparent and upfront about it takes the sting out a little, huh? Besides, there’s a waiver in there that you don’t really have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
“Oh, and only now you mention it.”
Amy gave her a sheepish look. “Well, it’s there in the small print. You can now consider yourself fully briefed.”
Imogen would quite happily answer any question that Amy had, but this time it wasn’t going to be a one-way street. “How about we take it in turns? I happen to be very interested in finding out more about you too.”
“Deal.”
They spent the next hour or so trekking up some fairly challenging terrain and steep hills while asking each other questions about anything and everything. Amy took it in her stride, both the hike and the inquisition.