Page 29 of The Lady and the Footballer
“Well, there was the rescheduling of our match in the first place,” he said. “But that could just be a coincidence.”
“You were an evenly matched team with the Ironworkers.”
“Oh, you were watching?”
“Yes, of course,” she said before that beautiful blush filled her cheeks again. “My friend Emmaline is quite the ardent fan.”
“Ah, yes, Miss Whitmore,” he said. “Well, I am glad that you accompanied her.”
She looked down with a small smile that he found altogether too endearing as Milton brought their soups and waters.
“You do not drink?” she asked, and he shook his head.
“Not midday. I must return to the mill, and I want my mind to be clear.”
“I am sorry again about the mishap last week,” she said, biting her lip. “Thank you again for saving me. If you hadn’t been there?—”
Her breath caught, and he reached out and covered her gloved hand with his bare one.
“But I was. And that’s what matters.”
Their eyes caught and held, and Colin was filled with a great awareness that nearly took his breath away.
He didn’t know what it was about this woman.
But he didn’t want to let her go.
Chapter Eleven
Lily couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed a lunch more than this one.
Mr. Thornton was everything she could have asked for in a man. Their conversation had continued into more mundane matters, as he asked her questions about where she had been educated and what she did with her time before he told her about his sisters, one who was excelling in school, the other who was near to finishing her apprenticeship to become a teacher.
His pride was evident, and she now understood why he worked so hard and was so dedicated to his job and passion.
Her enjoyment wasn’t just because of what they talked about, however.
It was how he didn’t just hear her words but listened to them. It was how he held her gaze, his attention not caught by anyone else in the pub. It was how his foot brushed against hers beneath the table, and while he didn’t move it away, he also didn’t press it too forcefully against hers.
The time flew by until he looked up at a wall-mounted regulator clock and shot to his feet.
“I’m late. So late.”
He reached into his pocket and threw down some coins, though Lily also stood, protesting.
“I can look after my own.”
He paused, his eyes catching hers, a frown crossing his face for the first time since they had entered the central area of the pub.
“I can handle it. It’s a bowl of soup.”
“Of course,” she said, immediately filled with regret. She had not meant to question his ability to pay; she just hadn’t wanted him to think she expected it. “I apologize, I never meant to insinuate?—”
“It’s fine,” he said, cutting her off. “Now, where can I walk you? I will be returning to the mill.”
“I have a driver down the road,” she said, biting her lip. “I told him that I was meeting my friend for lunch.”
“You are full of surprises, you devious little thing,” he teased, coaxing a smile out of her again, even as she worried that the mention of a driver would remind him of the difference in their stations.
