Page 22 of Hit For Six
His lips curled into a smile.
‘Whatever gave you that idea?’
Lola threw Monty a suspicious look.
‘That would be the destination of the bus.’
‘There are other places en route to the university,’ Lola mumbled quickly. ‘And no, I haven’t taken an exam for almost a decade and I don’t ever plan to again if I can help it. It’s a complete waste of time,’ she muttered those last words under her breath.
Okay, Monty was confused now. But then Lola gave a delayed reaction shudder and let out a little laugh as if she’d inadvertently said too much. God, she sparkled when shelaughed. She was a whole different version of herself today. Like a diamond revealing another facet of its allure. Monty was here for it.
‘Are you eating in?’
‘Are you grabbing a seat?’
They both asked one another at the same time, momentarily trapped in a mutual gaze of mush. Lola wiggled her finger about again, this time in the direction of the tables and chairs. Monty couldn’t help but chew back a grin at the grumpy guy behind the counter whose narrowed eyes he could feel blazing into his side. What had happened to all the older, kinder, mumsy bakers who used to work here? Mind you, they’d probably enjoy the vibes he and Lola were generating a little too much.
Lola led the way to the cosy corner table with the plush armchairs and Monty could have spun her around and kissed her. Not just because she looked dreamy from every angle, her waterfall of tousled, jet-black hair cascading down to her shoulders (it still looked gorgeous even though he now realised she’d had it chopped since the match) and not just because there were actual tables in here as opposed to bathtubs. There was also nobody to eavesdrop on their conversation in this little nook, and, although this totally wasn’t a date, if he could just compose himself and try not to let random sentences fly out of his mouth unchecked, whilst simultaneously keeping his tongue in, and refraining from going embarrassingly gooey-eyed, maybe, just maybe, he could get it to feel like one.
He placed the tray on the table and waited for Lola to choose her seat, more than a little gutted now, on reflection, that she hadn’t opted for the closer fitting bog standard tables and chairs, which would have made for some excellent thigh rubbing opportunities. Monty mentally eye rolled himself. To think he called himself a gent.
‘Can you keep a secret?’ he blurted, immediately berating himself for not forward planning his words. There was no way that he could say what he was about to say without it sounding like he was unabashedly showing off.
‘Probably.’
Lola took a sip of her coffee, her huge green eyes peeking above the mug’s rim. Cuteandhot. He was in so much trouble. He prayed to a god who he’d not exactly been in the closest of contact with over the years, that this woman hadn’t waltzed into his life again only to waltz back out of it.
‘I’m on my way to sign a contract to play T20 for England,’ he lowered his voice, checking nobody was listening in. ‘Which puts me one step closer to another dream: being on the Olympic team when cricket finally gets back to the games. It’s not official news yet so if it does get leaked, I’ll know it was you.’
He winked. And if that very same god could give him an electric shock every time he behaved so cheesily, that would be majorly appreciated too. Monty didn’t know what had come over him.
‘Wow. That’s–’ Lola settled her drink on the table, completely unaware of the dialogue going on in Monty’s head. ‘Congratulations!’ she shrieked. ‘And my lips are sealed,’ she whispered, then covered her mouth with those sensual-looking hands, which Monty was trying very hard not to imagine roaming his anatomy. ‘Now I feel bad for eating half of the roll.’ But she sliced it in two anyway and tore off a piece, eyeing it dreamily. ‘You deserved the celebration! Seriously, though… cricket’s not currently an Olympic sport but brake dancing is?’
‘Don’t get me started.’ Monty’s jaw clenched. ‘I have the upmost respect for all sports and athletes but yeah, that definitely stings a little when cricket’s been out of action at the games since 1900, and even then there were just two teams: Great Britain and France.’ Lola almost choked on her cinnamonroll. ‘Anyway, the sixth of September has turned out to be a very auspicious day after all.’
Monty felt himself drowning in Lola’s discombobulated eyes as he watched her licking her lips. There was something very intimate about a woman eating a sticky bun. He took a giant bite of his to give himself something else to think about.
‘Wait. What?’ She mumbled moments later behind her napkin, patting her lips. ‘Today’s the sixth?’ Lola whispered the number again, just like she had at The Bubble Bath.
‘Yeah.’ Monty laughed nervously. ‘Bit of a coincidence I guess when we’ve never bumped into one another in the city before. Other than those two recent times… which also involved sixes.’
‘Or maybe we have and we just didn’t notice one another,’ Lola tried to sound pragmatic but Monty could tell she was probably thinking along the same lines.
‘I would have remembered you, Lola.’
The words tripped off his tongue unbidden. Monty’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and he hoped that the final piece of cinnamon roll he’d just swallowed wouldn’t get stuck there. The silence stretched between them but somehow it wasn’t uncomfortable, even if it must have looked stargazy for the people around them. The funny thing was, he wasn’t sure if Lola realised she looked as besotted as he felt. It gave him a quiet boost of confidence. They really could have been on a date. Why not follow it up with another? If he could find the right way to ask her out– no,whenhe could find the right way to ask her out. He just needed to be patient. Which was kind of tricky when the clock was ticking and he had a career-changing contract to sign.
‘Anyway.’ He vowed to steer the conversation in a more platonic direction before he freaked her out. ‘You haven’t told me why you’re not currently at work in your office.’
Monty was even more confused now as to why Lola had been putting in the hours in a cocktail bar last weekend. But he didn’twant to play detective. Maybe her day job was a part-time one. And who was he to talk? His own role should be full-time.
‘Oh, I am on my way to work. I start late today. Vet’s appointment.’
‘Please don’t tell me you’ve got a snake in your bag.’
Monty pushed his chair back, eyes wide. He didn’t do reptiles.Oh, shit!He was a colossal dickhead to boot. It was befitting but true. If that hadn’t sounded like an innuendo…
‘Definitely not a snake.’ Lola arched a brow. ‘A Squiffy. Obviously she’s back at home now.’
