Twenty-seven
Greg had spent the entire week being nothing but a total grump. He’d moped around like a lost sheep and other than on the evenings he had visited Laurence, he’d gone home every night and sat in front of his TV, knowing Jemma was just a wall away. But she might as well have been on a distant planet in a far-off galaxy for all the good it did him.
He had considered knocking on her door so many times all week. But he had talked himself off that particular ledge and had kept his distance. He wasn’t sure how they had gone from getting on so well to not even speaking, but it seemed they had.
Now though, he needed to see her to give her the money that she’d made from her participation in his Indie Bookshops Event. He could just drop it through the letterbox, but it didn’t feel right somehow.
He knew she was home because he had heard the TV earlier and now he could hear her singing. At least someone was happy. She must be in the kitchen and have the back door open, as he had, or he wouldn’t be able to hear her so clearly.
He took several deep breaths and told himself repeatedly that it was simply a matter of knocking on the door, handing her the envelope, explaining briefly how he had arrived at her share by using exactly the same per centages he did with Laurence, and then he would just thank her again for her participation, and come home.
Then he could drink himself into oblivion tonight and hope that one day soon, he would be able to come home without desperately wanting to go and bang down the door of Oak View Cottage, pull a certain someone into his arms and kiss her with all the passion that was burning inside him, and had been since almost the moment they’d met.
She was only here for June so she’d be leaving in two weeks. Could he cope till then?
Did he have a choice?
‘Stop being a wimp, Greg,’ he told himself. ‘Just go and give her the envelope. What’s the worst that could happen?’
He spent the next half hour thinking of several things.
She could slam the door in his face.
She could laugh at him and tell him to get lost.
She could tell him to keep his pittance and go and get a life.
Worst of all, she could be in there with someone else.
There was no point in putting this off.
Was he a man or a mouse?
He made a little squeaking sound and then gave a loud tut.
‘For God’s sake, Greg. Pull yourself together.’
He grabbed the envelope and marched to Oak View Cottage, thumping his fist on the door.
She looked both surprised and possibly a little anxious when she opened it.
‘Greg!’
‘Jemma!’
‘What’s going on? Why are you thumping down the door?’
He held the envelope out to her.
‘To give you this.’
‘What … what is it?’
‘It’s your share of the monies earned for your participation in my Indie Bookshops Event.’
She gasped. ‘Have you been talking to Molly?’
He frowned. ‘Molly? No. Why?’
‘Then why are you giving me this now?’
‘Because that’s the way it works. I have to wait until I have all the figures. Obviously, because you were stepping in for Laurence, I’ve used the per centages I use for his events. It’s not the sort of sums you’re used to, but Laurence always seems happy so I hope you will be too. Especially as we sold more of your books than we’ve ever done at one of his events. Not by that much but each sale makes a difference. Please don’t tell him that you outsold him when you meet him though. He can get a bit touchy where his book sales are concerned. You know where I am if you have any questions. Have a good night, Jemma. And thank you again for your help.’
He had to summon all his strength to turn and walk away, because she looked so gorgeous and also a little lost, standing at the door looking at him as if she couldn’t believe what was happening.
‘Greg?’
He spun round on the spot. ‘Yes.’
‘If I ask you a question, will you tell me the honest truth?’
‘What is the question?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘It might. Is it … is it personal? Or business related?’
‘Business related.’
‘Then yes. I’ll be completely honest.’
‘Did you just decide to give me this money? Or was it always your intention to do so?’
‘It was always my intention. As I said, you were standing in for Laurence. I pay him a share of the profits for events such as these, so of course I’d do the same for you. Or for anyone who was taking his place.’
She looked as if a heavy load had been lifted from her shoulders. And then she looked cross.
‘Then why have you been ignoring me and avoiding me and making me feel that you only wanted me as a stand in for Laurence?’
‘What? Only wanted you as a stand in? Are you mad?’ That made him cross. How could she say that? ‘I wanted you. Full stop. I mean, I did. I do. I don’t know. I have been avoiding you, I’ll admit, but that was because you clearly didn’t feel what I was feeling and I’ve been hurt once and I didn’t relish the prospect of that happening again. And certainly not with you. Because I knew you’d be far harder to get over. But you’ve been that anyway, so it wouldn’t have made the slightest bit of difference. Sorry. What were those questions again?’
‘What are you saying? That you’ve been keeping your distance from me because … you like me?’
‘Yes. No. I did like you. Now I know it’s more than that. But don’t worry. I know you’re way out of my league. You’re a hugely successful author, which was obvious before the event but that event only made it clearer to me. I own a bookshop. Not exactly equals are we?’
‘Is that what you think? That you’re not good enough for me because you have a lower income? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.’
‘Oh is it? Well I’m sorry. But now you’ve made some new friends, haven’t you? So you don’t need me hanging around, do you? I only came to give you that. I’ve done that. That’s it.’
He turned and marched away, slamming his front door behind him.
That bloody woman!
His life was bliss until she arrived. Now he couldn’t even think straight. He couldn’t tell up from down or left from right. Nothing felt the same since she’d arrived.
The sooner she left here the better, then everything would go back to normal.
A loud rumbling came from overhead and lightning lit up the room.
Great. More bloody rain on the way. Some summer this was turning out to be.
He dropped onto the sofa and let out a long, deep sigh and waited for the rain as he stared out of the window.
But it didn’t come. He could be waiting for a while.
He got up, marched to his front door, flung it open and stormed out.
He pounded on the front door of his neighbour.
‘What now?’ Jemma snapped, flinging her door open wide.
Greg raised his voice above the rumbles of thunder. ‘I may not earn as much as you. But I earn enough to have a pretty good life.’
Jemma raised her voice to match his. ‘I didn’t say you didn’t. And I don’t care about that anyway.’
‘I really liked you, Jemma,’ he yelled. ‘I thought we got on brilliantly. I thought you liked me too, and that’s why I backed off. I thought we were moving too fast. And I wasn’t ready to fall for someone again. But I have. And there’s nothing I can do about that. Except stay out of your way. But I don’t want to do that either.’
‘I liked you too. And then I thought you’d used me. But that didn’t stop me liking you. I had to stay out of your way too. Except I didn’t want to. But I didn’t have a choice. And as for my new friends. I met Hanna last week and she took me to Betancourt and the beauty and history and romance of the place inspired me. I was able to write my book faster than I’ve ever written anything. I finished it today.’
‘Congratulations!’ he shouted.
‘Thank you!’ She matched his tone.
‘I think I’m falling in love with you,’ he boomed. ‘No. I think I am in love with you.’
Her eyes opened wide and she shouted, ‘I think I’m in love with you! What do you want to do about that?’
‘This,’ he roared, reaching out and pulling her into his arms.
He kissed her just as the heavens opened and rain bucketed down on them.
‘It’s raining,’ he said his mouth hovering over hers after that first passionate kiss.
‘I know,’ she said, leaning in for more as water dripped off his eyelashes onto her cheeks.
Neither of them cared.
After all, what was a little rain when you were wrapped in the arms of the love of your life?