Page 44 of Tangled With the Wrong Guy
They lay still and quiet, and she loved the feeling of his warm body on hers as their hearts slowed. After a while he lifted his head from her shoulder. ‘Thank you,’ he said, and kissed her gently. ‘Thank you for all of it.’
‘An absolute pleasure,’ she said, running her fingers through his hair. Then more seriously, ‘You’ve made me feel things I’ve never felt before.’
‘Maybe that’s down to Monsieur Noir.’
She chuckled. ‘No, Joel. It’s down to you. You’re … amazing. And I don’t just mean … you know. You’re amazing in what you’re doing for Zara, even though I still think it’s a mistake. And you’ve made me smile and laugh again; you’ve brought me back to life. I feel like the future could be okay – better than okay – if I just go out and grab it.’
‘You will.’ He kissed the tip of her nose, then his gaze moved out of the window, where dawn was beginning to wash the sky with pink. ‘Look – it’s tomorrow.’ He sighed. ‘What a fucking shame.’
‘That’s very sad,’ she said, forcing her mind back to the real world. ‘I have to be at the flower shop in a few hours.’
‘Abloomingshame.’
She snorted and glanced at their wrists. ‘How’s that going to work?’
He thought for a moment. ‘We could take an early morning walk? I reckon my hotel could organise a bolt-cutter. A good hotel concierge can get you anything, right? And it would be less embarrassing than a gendarmerie?’
‘Might be a plan.’
‘How far are we from the river?’
‘About half an hour.’
‘So we could walk there along the Seine. Then once the chain’s off, I’ll organise a taxi to take you to your shop. Okay?’
‘Um …’
‘Just be quiet about it,’ said Chloe, as Joel squeezed his tall form into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet.
She stood in the doorway and hummed ‘Everybody wants to be a Cat’, loudly, watching Patapouf munching the biscuits she’d poured into his bowl. Usually he meowed in her ear at around six thirty. Now, it was just gone seven and His Parisian-ness was not amused at the delay in his breakfast. He’d thrown Chloe and Joel a look of utter contempt when they emerged from the bedroom.
‘Finished!’ said Joel in a little-boy voice.
Chloe giggled.
‘Your turn,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to hum too?’
‘Yes please,’ she said, as they swapped places.
He began to hum that song fromLove Actually. “I feel it in my fingers…”
Then he switched up from humming to singing, and …oh. He had the most beautiful voice! She listened, open mouthed. And when he got to the part aboutlying on the bed, thinking of all the things you said, he squeezed her hand and turned to her with a smile, and she didn’t care that she was sitting on the toilet.
‘Now wash hands,’ she said, filling the cereal-bowl sink with warm water. ‘And any sticky bits.’ She picked up her flannel, dipped it in and began wiping herself down. ‘Joel – you have such a great voice!’
‘I love to sing. Me and Monty used to sing together. He wrote songs too; I played guitar, he played keyboards. We liked different things – he was into musicals;The Sound of Musicwas his favourite. And maybeMamma Mia. Big Abba fan. I’m more your rocker, but we had a lot of fun.’
She passed the flannel over and after he’d given himself a quick wipe, she dried them both then gave him a hug. ‘Take it up again. Join a band. Those things you love that you’re supposed to save for your spare time? You could do that.’
He smiled. ‘Maybe I will. But for now I’m just wondering what to do about clothes.’
They retrieved their jeans and underwear from the living room floor.
‘Needs must,’ Joel said, wrinkling his nose as she helped him with his day-old underpants.
‘I could find you a pair of–’
‘Thank you, Chloe, but no.’
