Page 13 of The Plan
“And two cans,” he adds.
“That’s ten pounds eighty, please,” the girl says with a smile. I don’t miss that not once since I’ve been stood here has she looked at me. Her focus has been solely on Blake. I can’t blame her; he’s pretty mesmerising.
I feel the heat from his body suddenly warm my back before his hand reaches forward with a couple of notes between his fingers. I’m just about to step away from him when I feel his hand grab my hip and squeeze. My stomach twists at the contact and my head turns to look at him over my shoulder. He’s paying no attention to the girl he’s currently handing money to.
His focus is solely on me.
I feel his fingers flex on my hip just before he takes his change and steps back.
“What do you want?” he calls over his shoulder on his way to the fridge to get our cans.
“Lemonade, please.”
We sit ourselves at the only table in the small fish and chip shop that looks out over the deserted road that heads to the coastline we were just sat on. We both unwrap our food before making a grab for the vinegar bottle in the middle of the table. He just beats me to it, so instead of my hand wrapping around the bottle, it wraps around his warm fingers. My eyes jump to his to find him once again already watching me, his eyes dark and unreadable—or at least that’s what I tell myself, because what I think I see in them can’t possibly be right.
“You first, princess,” he says, handing it to me.
I narrow my eyes at him but take it and squirt a generous amount over my chips before handing it back and watching as he does the same.
“Didn’t you eat all your dinner?” I ask as he digs into his giant portion of chips.
“Yes, it was delicious. Why?”
“Just wondering where you’re going to put all that?”
“A machine like this needs constant fuel, princess,” he says, patting his flat—and in my imagination, toned—stomach.
I can’t help but burst out laughing with a chip partway to my mouth. “You did not just say that,” I splutter.
His response is to throw two chips into his mouth and chew. I can’t take my eyes away from him. I swear he’s even sexy when he’s eating. I continue to watch as his tongue comes out to lick a few grains of salt from his lips. My eyes wander from his mouth over his week-old stubble and up to his nose, that looks like it’s been broken at some point, before coming to rest on his eyes.
He clears his throat before asking, “See something you like?”
“Yeah,” I admit. “I haven’t had sausage in ages.”
Blake’s eyes crinkle at the sides before he smiles and laughs. “Is that right?” he manages, and it makes me realise what I said.
“Oh my God,” I squeal. “That isnotwhat I meant,” I say as I throw a chip at him.
“Sure it wasn’t.”
“Not one this big, anyway,” I say quietly, partly hoping he won’t hear and partly hoping he will. I pick it up and take a bite.
When I look up, Blake’s eyes are hooded and zeroed in on my lips, which are currently wrapped around a battered sausage.
“What?” I ask innocently when I pull it away.
“Oh, nothing, princess. Nothing at all.” He shakes his head before looking down at his own food and continuing to eat. I’m pretty sure it’s not in my imagination that I see him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, and I can’t but smile as I wonder if I affect him the same way he does me.
* * *
“Where are Aunt Addy and Sinead?” I ask seeing the place in darkness.
“At my house. Addy took Sinead home when I came looking for you.”
“Won’t she wonder where you’ve gone?”
“She knows I went to find you.”
